He asked me of what parentage I was; I told him, of as good
as
he; so he laugh'd and let me go. But what talk we of fathers
when
there is such a man as Orlando?
CELIA. O, that's a brave man! He writes brave verses, speaks
brave
words, swears brave oaths, and breaks them bravely, quite
traverse, athwart the heart of his lover; as a puny tilter,
that
spurs his horse but on one side, breaks his staff like a
noble
goose. But all's brave that youth mounts and folly guides.
Who
comes here?
Enter CORIN
CORIN. Mistress and master, you have oft enquired
After the shepherd that complain'd of love,
Who you saw sitting by me on the turf,
Praising the proud disdainful shepherdess
That was his mistress.
CELIA. Well, and what of him?
CORIN. If you will see a pageant truly play'd
Between the pale complexion of true love
And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain,
Go hence a little, and I shall conduct you,
If you will mark it.
Pages:
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100