'O sweet Oliver!
O brave Oliver!
Leave me not behind thee:'
but,— 108
'Wind away,
Begone, I say,
I will not to wedding with thee.'
Sir Oli. 'Tis no matter: ne'er a fantastical
knave of them all shall flout me out of my call-
ing. [Exit.]
Scene Four
[Another Part of the Forest]
Enter Rosalind and Celia.
Ros. Never talk to me: I will weep.
Cel. Do, I prithee; but yet have the grace to
consider that tears do not become a man.
Ros. But have I not cause to weep? 4
Cel. As good cause as one would desire;
therefore weep.
Ros. His very hair is of the dissembling colour.
Cel. Something browner than Judas's; marry,
his kisses are Judas's own children. 9
Ros. I' faith, his hair is of a good colour.
Cel. An excellent colour: your chestnut was
ever the only colour. 12
Ros. And his kissing is as full of sanctity as
the touch of holy bread.
Cel. He hath bought a pair of cast lips of
105 O sweet Oliver; cf. n.
109 Wind away: go away
7 dissembling: false; cf. n.
8 Judas's; cf. n.
11 your chestnut; cf. n.
15 cast: cast off, possibly a quibble for 'chaste'
