ACT III.
2. SCENE II. The Forest of Arden.
(continued)
CELIA.
Nay, he hath but a little beard.
ROSALIND.
Why, God will send more if the man will be thankful: let me stay
the growth of his beard, if thou delay me not the knowledge of
his chin.
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.
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