AS YOU LIKE IT. Sidney Lee

you will know of me

       What man I am, and how, and why, and where,

       This handkerchief was stain’d.

       CELIA

       I pray you, tell it.

       OLIVER

       When last the young Orlando parted from you,

       He left a promise to return again

       Within an hour; and, pacing through the forest,

       Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy,

       Lo, what befell! he threw his eye aside,

       And, mark, what object did present itself!

       Under an oak, whose boughs were moss’d with age,

       And high top bald with dry antiquity,

       A wretched ragged man, o’ergrown with hair,

       Lay sleeping on his back: about his neck

       A green and gilded snake had wreath’d itself,

       Who, with her head nimble in threats, approach’d

       The opening of his mouth; but suddenly,

       Seeing Orlando, it unlink’d itself,

       And with indented glides did slip away

       Into a bush: under which bush’s shade

       A lioness, with udders all drawn dry,

       Lay couching, head on ground, with cat-like watch,

       When that the sleeping man should stir; for ‘tis

       The royal disposition of that beast

       To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead:

       This seen, Orlando did approach the man,

       And found it was his brother, his elder brother.

       CELIA

       O, I have heard him speak of that same brother;

       And he did render him the most unnatural

       That liv’d amongst men.

       OLIVER

       And well he might so do,

       For well I know he was unnatural.

       ROSALIND

       But, to Orlando:—did he leave him there,

       Food to the suck’d and hungry lioness?

       OLIVER

       Twice did he turn his back, and purpos’d so;

       But kindness, nobler ever than revenge,

       And nature, stronger than his just occasion,

       Made him give battle to the lioness,

       Who quickly fell before him; in which hurtling

       From miserable slumber I awak’d.

       CELIA

       Are you his brother?

       ROSALIND

       Was it you he rescued?

       CELIA

       Was’t you that did so oft contrive to kill him?

       OLIVER

       ‘Twas I; but ‘tis not I: I do not shame

       To tell you what I was, since my conversion

       So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am.

       ROSALIND

       But, for the bloody napkin?—

       OLIVER

       By and by.

       When from the first to last, betwixt us two,

       Tears our recountments had most kindly bath’d,

       As, how I came into that desert place;—

       In brief, he led me to the gentle duke,

       Who gave me fresh array and entertainment,

       Committing me unto my brother’s love,

       Who led me instantly unto his cave,

       There stripp’d himself, and here upon his arm

       The lioness had torn some flesh away,

       Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted,

       And cried, in fainting, upon Rosalind.

       Brief, I recover’d him, bound up his wound,

       And, after some small space, being strong at heart,

       He sent me hither, stranger as I am,

       To tell this story, that you might excuse

       His broken promise, and to give this napkin,

       Dy’d in his blood, unto the shepherd-youth

       That he in sport doth call his Rosalind.

       [ROSALIND faints.]

       CELIA

       Why, how now, Ganymede! sweet Ganymede!

       OLIVER

       Many will swoon when they do look on blood.

       CELIA

       There is more in it:—Cousin—Ganymede!

       OLIVER

       Look, he recovers.

       ROSALIND

       I would I were at home.

       CELIA

       We’ll lead you thither:—

       I pray you, will you take him by the arm?

       OLIVER

       Be of good cheer, youth:—you a man?—You lack a man’s heart.

       ROSALIND

       I do so, I confess it. Ah, sir, a body would think this was well counterfeited. I pray you tell your brother how well I counterfeited.—Heigh-ho!—

       OLIVER

       This was not counterfeit; there is too great testimony in your complexion that it was a passion of earnest.

       ROSALIND

       Counterfeit, I assure you.

       OLIVER

       Well then, take a good heart, and counterfeit to be a man.

       ROSALIND

       So I do: but, i’ faith, I should have been a woman by right.

       CELIA

       Come, you look paler and paler: pray you draw homewards.— Good sir, go with us.

       OLIVER

       That will I, for I must bear answer back

       How you excuse my brother, Rosalind.

       ROSALIND

       I shall devise something: but, I pray you, commend my counterfeiting to him.—Will you go?

       [Exeunt.]

ACT V

       Table of Contents

      SCENE I. The Forest of Arden

       [Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY.]

       TOUCHSTONE

       We shall find a time, Audrey; patience, gentle Audrey.

       AUDREY

       Faith, the priest was good enough, for all the old gentleman’s saying.

       TOUCHSTONE

       A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey, a most vile Martext. But, Audrey, there is a youth here in the forest