CELIA. O wonderful, wonderful, most wonderful wonderful, and
yet
again wonderful, and after that, out of all whooping!
ROSALIND. Good my complexion! dost thou think, though I am
caparison'd like a man, I have a doublet and hose in my
disposition? One inch of delay more is a South Sea of
discovery.
I prithee tell me who is it quickly, and speak apace. I would
thou could'st stammer, that thou mightst pour this conceal'd
man
out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of narrow-mouth'd bottle-
either too much at once or none at all. I prithee take the
cork
out of thy mouth that I may drink thy tidings.
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.
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