William Shakespeare - William Shakespeare - Complete Works

melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted

from many objects, and, indeed, the sundry contemplation of my

travels; in which my often rumination wraps me in a most humorous

sadness.

ROSALIND. A traveller! By my faith, you have great reason to be

sad. I fear you have sold your own lands to see other men's; then

to have seen much and to have nothing is to have rich eyes and

poor hands.

JAQUES. Yes, I have gain'd my experience.

Enter ORLANDO

ROSALIND. And your experience makes you sad. I had rather have a

fool to make me merry than experience to make me sad- and to

travel for it too.

ORLANDO. Good day, and happiness, dear Rosalind!

JAQUES. Nay, then, God buy you, an you talk in blank verse.

ROSALIND. Farewell, Monsieur Traveller; look you lisp and wear

strange suits, disable all the benefits of your own country, be

out of love with your nativity, and almost chide God for making

you that countenance you are; or I will scarce think you have

swam in a gondola. [Exit JAQUES] Why, how now, Orlando! where

have you been all this while? You a lover! An you serve me such

another trick, never come in my sight more.

ORLANDO. My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my promise.

ROSALIND. Break an hour's promise in love! He that will divide a

minute into a thousand parts, and break but a part of the

thousand part of a minute in the affairs of love, it may be said

of him that Cupid hath clapp'd him o' th' shoulder, but I'll

warrant him heart-whole.

ORLANDO. Pardon me, dear Rosalind.

ROSALIND. Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more in my sight. I had

as lief be woo'd of a snail.

ORLANDO. Of a snail!

ROSALIND. Ay, of a snail; for though he comes slowly, he carries

his house on his head- a better jointure, I think, than you make

a woman; besides, he brings his destiny with him.

ORLANDO. What's that?

ROSALIND. Why, horns; which such as you are fain to be beholding to

your wives for; but he comes armed in his fortune, and prevents

the slander of his wife.

ORLANDO. Virtue is no horn-maker; and my Rosalind is virtuous.

ROSALIND. And I am your Rosalind.

CELIA. It pleases him to call you so; but he hath a Rosalind of a

better leer than you.

ROSALIND. Come, woo me, woo me; for now I am in a holiday humour,

and like enough to consent. What would you say to me now, an I

were your very very Rosalind?

ORLANDO. I would kiss before I spoke.

ROSALIND. Nay, you were better speak first; and when you were

gravell'd for lack of matter, you might take occasion to kiss.

Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit; and for

lovers lacking- God warn us!- matter, the cleanliest shift is to

kiss.

ORLANDO. How if the kiss be denied?

ROSALIND. Then she puts you to entreaty, and there begins new

matter.

ORLANDO. Who could be out, being before his beloved mistress?

ROSALIND. Marry, that should you, if I were your mistress; or I

should think my honesty ranker than my wit.

ORLANDO. What, of my suit?

ROSALIND. Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your suit.

Am not I your Rosalind?

ORLANDO. I take some joy to say you are, because I would be talking

of her.

ROSALIND. Well, in her person, I say I will not have you.

ORLANDO. Then, in mine own person, I die.

ROSALIND. No, faith, die by attorney. The poor world is almost six

thousand years old, and in all this time there was not any man

died in his own person, videlicet, in a love-cause. Troilus had

his brains dash'd out with a Grecian club; yet he did what he

could to die before, and he is one of the patterns of love.

Leander, he would have liv'd many a fair year, though Hero had

turn'd nun, if it had not been for a hot midsummer night; for,

good youth, he went but forth to wash him in the Hellespont, and,

being taken with the cramp, was drown'd; and the foolish

chroniclers of that age found it was- Hero of Sestos. But these

are all lies: men have died from time to time, and worms have

eaten them, but not for love.

ORLANDO. I would not have my right Rosalind of this mind; for, I

protest, her frown might kill me.

ROSALIND. By this hand, it will not kill a fly. But come, now I

will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on disposition; and ask me

what you will, I will grant it.

ORLANDO. Then love me, Rosalind.

ROSALIND. Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays, and all.

ORLANDO. And wilt thou have me?

ROSALIND. Ay, and twenty such.

ORLANDO. What sayest thou?

ROSALIND. Are you not good?

ORLANDO. I hope so.

ROSALIND. Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing? Come,

sister, you shall be the priest, and marry us. Give me your hand,

Orlando. What do you say, sister?

ORLANDO. Pray thee, marry us.

CELIA. I cannot say the words.

ROSALIND. You must begin 'Will you, Orlando'-

CELIA. Go to. Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rosalind?

ORLANDO. I will.

ROSALIND. Ay, but when?

ORLANDO. Why, now; as fast as she can marry us.

ROSALIND. Then you must say 'I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.'

ORLANDO. I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.

ROSALIND. I might ask you for your commission; but- I do take thee,

Orlando, for my husband. There's a girl goes before the priest;

and, certainly, a woman's thought runs before her actions.

ORLANDO. So do all thoughts; they are wing'd.

ROSALIND. Now tell me how long you would have her, after you have

possess'd her.

ORLANDO. For ever and a day.

ROSALIND. Say 'a day' without the 'ever.' No, no, Orlando; men are

April when they woo, December when they wed: maids are May when

they are maids, but the sky changes when they are wives. I will

be more jealous of thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon over his hen,

more clamorous than a parrot against rain, more new-fangled than

an ape, more giddy in my desires than a monkey. I will weep for

nothing, like Diana in the fountain, and I will do that when you

are dispos'd to be merry; I will laugh like a hyen, and that when

thou are inclin'd to sleep.

ORLANDO. But will my Rosalind do so?

ROSALIND. By my life, she will do as I do.

ORLANDO. O, but she is wise.

ROSALIND. Or else she could not have the wit to do this. The wiser,

the waywarder. Make the doors upon a woman's wit, and it will out

at the casement; shut that, and 'twill out at the key-hole; stop

that, 'twill fly with the smoke out at the chimney.

ORLANDO. A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might say 'Wit,

whither wilt?' ROSALIND. Nay, you might keep that check for it, till you met your

wife's wit going to your neighbour's bed.

ORLANDO. And what wit could wit have to excuse that?

ROSALIND. Marry, to say she came to seek you there. You shall never

take her without her answer, unless you take her without her

tongue. O, that woman that cannot make her fault her husband's

occasion, let her never nurse her child herself, for she will

breed it like a fool!

ORLANDO. For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave thee.

ROSALIND. Alas, dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours!

ORLANDO. I must attend the Duke at dinner; by two o'clock I will be

with thee again.

ROSALIND. Ay, go your ways, go your ways. I knew what you would

prove; my friends told me as much, and I thought no less. That

flattering tongue of yours won me. 'Tis but one cast away, and

so, come death! Two o'clock is your hour?

ORLANDO. Ay, sweet Rosalind.