As You Like It By William Shakespeare Act III: Scene 2

CELIA.
It is young Orlando, that tripped up the wrestler's
heels and your heart both in an instant.

ROSALIND.
Nay, but the devil take mocking: speak sad brow and true maid.

CELIA.
I' faith, coz, 'tis he.

ROSALIND.
Orlando?

CELIA.
Orlando.

ROSALIND.
Alas the day! what shall I do with my doublet and hose? —
What did he when thou saw'st him? What said he? How look'd he?
Wherein went he? What makes he here? Did he ask for me? Where
remains he? How parted he with thee? and when shalt thou see
him again? Answer me in one word.

CELIA.
You must borrow me Gargantua's mouth first: 'tis a word too
great for any mouth of this age's size. To say ay and no to
these particulars is more than to answer in a catechism.

ROSALIND.
But doth he know that I am in this forest, and in
man's apparel? Looks he as freshly as he did the day he wrestled?

CELIA.
It is as easy to count atomies as to resolve the propositions of
a lover: — but take a taste of my finding him, and relish it with
good observance. I found him under a tree, like a dropp'd acorn.

ROSALIND.
It may well be called Jove's tree, when it drops forth such
fruit.

CELIA.
Give me audience, good madam.

ROSALIND.
Proceed.

CELIA.
There lay he, stretched along like a wounded knight.

ROSALIND.
Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well
becomes the ground.

CELIA.
Cry, "holla!" to thy tongue, I pr'ythee; it curvets
unseasonably. He was furnished like a hunter.

ROSALIND.
O, ominous! he comes to kill my heart.

CELIA.
I would sing my song without a burden: thou bring'st me
out of tune.

ROSALIND.
Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must speak.
Sweet, say on.

CELIA.
You bring me out. — Soft! comes he not here?

ROSALIND.
'Tis he: slink by, and note him.

{CELIA and ROSALIND retire.]

[Enter ORLANDO and JAQUES.]

JAQUES.
I thank you for your company; but, good faith, I had as
lief have been myself alone.

ORLANDO.
And so had I; but yet, for fashion's sake, I thank you
too for your society.

JAQUES.
God buy you: let's meet as little as we can.

ORLANDO.
I do desire we may be better strangers.

JAQUES.
I pray you, mar no more trees with writing love songs in
their barks.

ORLANDO.
I pray you, mar no more of my verses with reading them
ill-favouredly.

JAQUES.
Rosalind is your love's name?

ORLANDO.
Yes, just.

JAQUES.
I do not like her name.

ORLANDO.
There was no thought of pleasing you when she was christened.

JAQUES.
What stature is she of?

ORLANDO.
Just as high as my heart.

JAQUES.
You are full of pretty answers. Have you not been
acquainted with goldsmiths' wives, and conned them out of
rings?

ORLANDO.
Not so; but I answer you right painted cloth, from
whence you have studied your questions.

JAQUES.
You have a nimble wit: I think 'twas made of Atalanta's
heels. Will you sit down with me? and we two will rail
against our mistress the world, and all our misery.

ORLANDO.
I will chide no breather in the world but myself, against
whom I know most faults.

JAQUES.
The worst fault you have is to be in love.

ORLANDO.
'Tis a fault I will not change for your best virtue. I am
weary of you.

JAQUES.
By my troth, I was seeking for a fool when I found you.

ORLANDO.
He is drowned in the brook; look but in, and you shall see him.

JAQUES.
There I shall see mine own figure.

ORLANDO.
Which I take to be either a fool or a cipher.

JAQUES.
I'll tarry no longer with you: farewell, good Signior Love.

ORLANDO.
I am glad of your departure: adieu, good Monsieur Melancholy.

[Exit JAQUES. — CELIA and ROSALIND come forward.]

Back to Top

Take the Quiz

Celia and Rosalind are



Quiz