Like a ripe sister. The woman low

And browner than her brother.’ Are not you

The owner of the house I did enquire for?

CELIA

It is no boast, being asked, to say we are.

OLIVER

Orlando doth commend him to you both,

And to that youth he calls his Rosalind

He sends this bloody napkin. Are you he?

ROSALIND

I am. What must we understand by this?

OLIVER

Some of my shame, if you will know of me

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

This handkerchief was stained.

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 old oak, whose boughs were mossed 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 wreathed itself,

Who with her head, nimble in threats, approached

The opening of his mouth. But suddenly

Seeing Orlando, it unlinked 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 catlike 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 lived 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 sucked and hungry lioness?

OLIVER

Twice did he turn his back, and purposed 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 awaked.

CELIA

Are you his brother?

ROSALIND

Was’t 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 bathed—

As how I came into that desert place—

I’ 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 stripped 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 recovered 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,

Dyed 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.

(To Oliver) 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, sirrah, 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

5.1 Enter Touchstone the clown 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 lays claim to you.

AUDREY Ay, I know who ’tis. He hath no interest in me in the world. Here comes the man you mean.

Enter William

TOUCHSTONE It is meat and drink to me to see a clown. By my troth, we that have good wits have much to answer for. We shall be flouting; we cannot hold.

WILLIAM Good ev’n, Audrey.

AUDREY God ye good ev’n, William.

WILLIAM (to Touchstone) And good ev’n to you, sir.

TOUCHSTONE Good ev’n, gentle friend. Cover thy head, cover thy head. Nay, prithee, be covered. How old are you, friend?

WILLIAM Five-and-twenty, sir.

TOUCHSTONE A ripe age. Is thy name William?

WILLIAM William, sir.

TOUCHSTONE A fair name. Wast born i’th’ forest here?

WILLIAM Ay, sir, I thank God.

TOUCHSTONE Thank God—a good answer. Art rich?

WILLIAM Faith, sir, so-so.