Название | William Shakespeare - Ultimate Collection: Complete Plays & Poetry in One Volume |
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Автор произведения | William Shakespeare |
Жанр | Языкознание |
Серия | |
Издательство | Языкознание |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9788075834171 |
CELIA
So you may put a man in your belly.
ROSALIND
Is he of God’s making? What manner of man? Is his head worth a hat or his chin worth a beard?
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.
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.]
ROSALIND
I will speak to him like a saucy lacquey, and under that habit play the knave with him.—
Do you hear, forester?
ORLANDO
Very well: what would you?
ROSALIND
I pray you, what is’t o’clock?
ORLANDO
You should ask me what time o’ day; there’s no clock in the forest.
ROSALIND
Then there is no true lover in the forest, else sighing every minute and groaning every hour would detect the lazy foot of time as well as a clock.
ORLANDO
And why not the swift foot of time? had not that been as proper?
ROSALIND