« PředchozíPokračovat »
But_P Wind away,
Begone, I say,
I will not to wedding with thee to-day. Sir Oli. 'Tis no matter ; ne'er a fantastical knave of them all shall flout me out of my calling. [Exeunt.
Enter Rosalind and Celia. Rof. Never talk to me, I will weep.
Cel. Do, I pr’ythee ; but yet have the grace to consider, that tears do not become a man.
Ros. But have I not cause to weep?
Cel. Something browner than o Judas's: marry, his kisses are Judas's own children. Ros
. I'faith, his hair is of a good colour. Cel. An excellent colour : your chesnut was ever the only colour.
Ros. And his kissing is as full of sanctity as the touch of 'holy beard.
Cel. He hath bought a pair of cast lips of Diana: a nun of winter's sisterhood kisses not more religiously; the very ice of chastity is in them.
Rof. But why did he swear he would come this morning, and comes not?
Cel. Nay certainly, there is no truth in him.
. Do you think so?
9 Judas's :)-which was red, holy beard. ]—of a faint, or hermit. : winter's fifterhood ]-devoted to chastity.
Cel. Yes: I think he is not a pick-purse, nor a horsestealer ; but for his verity in love, I do think him as concave as a cover'd goblet, or a worm-eaten nut.
Ref. Not true in love?
Cel. Was, is not is: besides, the oath of a lover is no stronger than the word of a tapster; they are both the confirmers of falfe reckonings : He attends here in the forest on the duke your father.
Rof. I met the duke yesterday, and had much question with himn : He asked me, of what parentage I was; I told him, of as good as he ; fo he laugh’d, and let me go. But what talk we of fathers, when there is such a man as Orlando?
Cel. O, that's 'a brave man! he writes brave verses, speaks brave words, swears brave oaths, and breaks them bravely, "quite traverse, athwart the heart of his lover ; as a puny tilter, that spurs his horse but on one side, breaks his staff like "a noble goose: but all's brave, that youth mounts, and folly guides :-Who comes here?
Cor. Mistress, and master, you have oft enquired
Cel. Well, and what of him?
Cor. If you will see a pageant truly play'd, Between the pale complexion of true love
a brave man!] -a fashionable gallant.
quite traverse,]-it was a disgrace to have a lance broken across. w noje-quill'd-with a quill stuck through the nose.
And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain,
you will mark it,
Ref. O, come, let us remove;
Sil. Sweet Phebe, do not scorn me; do not, Phebe: Say, that you love me not; but say not so In bitterness: The common executioner, Whose heart the accustom'd sight of death makes hard, *Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck, But first begs pardon ; Will you sterner be Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops ?
Enter Rosalind, Celia, and Corin. Pbe. I would not be thy executioner ; I Ay thee, ? for I would not injure thee. Thou tell'st me, there is murder in mine eye ; 'Tis pretty, sure, and very probable, That eyes,--that are the frail'st and softest things, Who shut their coward gates on atomies, – Should be call'd tyrants, butchers, murderers ! Now do I frown on thee with all my heart; And, if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee : Now counterfeit to fwoon ; why now fall down ;
* Falls not]-Does not let fall.
Or, if thou can'st not, oh, for shame, for shame,
Sil. O dear Phebe,
Pbe. But, 'till that time,
mother, That you insult, exult, and all at once, Over the wretched ? What though you have no beauty, (As, by my faith, I see no more in you Than without candle may go dark to bed) Must you be therefore proud and pitiless ? Why, what means this? Why do you look on me? I see no more in you, than in the ordinary Of nature's sale-work :-—'Od's, my little life!
capable impreffure]-hollow mark, dint.
Who might be your mother,]-What tigress nursed thee ? d and all at once,]-at the same instant, all in a breath.
e in the ordinary of nature's sale-work :]-common course of nature's productions.
i Od's,]-God save.
I think, she means to tangle mine eyes too:--
well. Pbe. Sweet youth, I pray you chide a year together ; I had rather hear you chide, than this man woo.
Rof. He's fallen in love with her foulness, and she'll fall in love with my anger :-If it be so, as fast as she answers thee with frowning looks, I'll sauce her with bitter words.--Why look you so upon me?
Pbe. For no ill will I bear you.
Roj. I pray you, do not fall in love with me,
3. Foul is most foul, being foul to be a fcoffer.]—For an ill-favoured person to ridicule the defects of others adds deformity to native homefoulness, ;-hrewishness.