Never talk to me, I will weep.
Don't speak to me; I'm going to cry.
Just leave me alone, I'm going to cry.
dont talk 2 me im gonna cry
Do, I prithee, but yet have the grace to consider that tears do not
become a man.
Go ahead and cry, please, but do consider that tears don't suit a man.
Go ahead and cry then, but remember that tears don't look good on a man.
cry if u want but tears dont suit men
But have I not cause to weep?
But don't I have reason to cry?
Seriously though, isn't there plenty of reason for me to fall apart?
dont i have reason to cry?
As good cause as one would desire; therefore weep.
As good a reason as anyone could want; so go ahead and cry.
You have every reason in the world, so yes, cry.
u have every reason so cry
His very hair is of the dissembling colour.
His hair is literally the color of deception.
His hair is the color of a liar.
his hair color = lies
Something browner than Judas’s. Marry, his kisses are Judas’s own
children.
Somewhat browner than Judas's hair. Why, his kisses are like Judas's own children.
It's browner than Judas's hair. And his kisses—they're like Judas's own children.
browner than judas his kisses r judas's children
I’ faith, his hair is of a good colour.
In truth, his hair is a good color.
Actually, his hair is a nice color.
his hair is nice
An excellent colour. Your chestnut was ever the only colour.
Excellent color. Chestnut has always been the only color for you.
A perfect color. But chestnut is really the only color that works for you.
perfect chestnut is ur only color
For two full acts, Rosalind has been in control. She engineers the disguise, she manages the name (Ganymede), she sets up the love-game with Orlando — proposing to 'cure' him of love while secretly deepening her own. In 3-2, she's dazzling. In 3-3, she's watching from the audience. By 3-4, the performance is starting to cost her something.
The clearest sign is the oscillation between criticizing Orlando and defending him — sometimes within the same breath. She calls his hair the 'dissembling colour' (Judas-red, treacherous) and forty words later declares chestnut 'the only colour.' This isn't indecision. It's the symptom of someone who can't sustain a position because the emotional stakes are too high. Every critical thought she has about Orlando is immediately overturned by feeling.
Celia sees this. Her deadpan line about tears not suiting a man — 'have the grace to consider that tears do not become a man' — is both a practical warning (the disguise is slipping) and a diagnosis: Rosalind is behaving like someone in love, not someone administering a cure. The game has turned.
This scene is brief by the play's standards, but it performs critical structural work. It establishes that Rosalind is now the patient, not the therapist. Whatever happens in 4-1 — when Orlando arrives and the role-play continues — will be conducted by someone who is genuinely in danger of the thing she was supposed to be curing. The comedy deepens because the stakes are now real on both sides.
And his kissing is as full of sanctity as the touch of holy bread.
And his kiss is filled with holiness, like touching sacred bread.
And his kiss is so pure, it's like touching a holy sacrament.
his kiss is holy like sacred bread
He hath bought a pair of cast lips of Diana. A nun of winter’s
sisterhood kisses not more religiously; the very ice of chastity is in
them.
He has obtained a pair of lips donated by Diana herself. No nun from a winter convent kisses more devoutly; pure frozen chastity lives in them.
He's got lips donated by Diana. A nun in a winter convent couldn't kiss more reverently; those lips are absolutely frozen with purity.
he got diana's lips even nuns kiss less holy ice cold chaste lips
But why did he swear he would come this morning, and comes not?
But why did he swear he would come this morning, and now he doesn't come?
But why did he promise to come this morning, and then he doesn't show up?
why'd he swear hed come and then he doesnt
Nay, certainly, there is no truth in him.
Well, certainly, there is no honesty in him.
Definitely not. He's got no honesty in him.
nah theres no truth in him
Do you think so?
You really think that?
You really think so?
u think so?
Yes. I think he is not a pick-purse nor a horse-stealer, but for his
verity in love, I do think him as concave as a covered goblet or a
worm-eaten nut.
Yes. I don't think he's a pickpocket or a horse thief, but when it comes to his truthfulness in love, I think he's as hollow as a covered cup or a worm-eaten nut.
Right. I don't think he's a criminal or a thief, but when it comes to being true in love, he's as hollow as a covered goblet or a bug-eaten nut.
not a thief but for love? hollow as a cup or worm-eaten nut
Not true in love?
He's not sincere about love?
He doesn't really mean what he says about love?
wait he's not actually in love?
Yes, when he is in, but I think he is not in.
Yes, he would be if he were in love, but I don't think he is in love.
Sure, he'd be truthful if he was actually in love—but I don't believe he is.
he would b if he was in love but hes not
You have heard him swear downright he was.
You have heard him swear plainly that he was.
You've heard him swear he was in love.
u heard him swear he was
In comedy, the straight man is often the most undervalued role. They don't get the laughs; they set them up. Celia's function in this scene is exactly that — she provides the level surface against which Rosalind's instability registers as instability.
But Celia is more than a reaction mechanism. Her skepticism is substantive. When she points out that tears don't prove sincerity, or that a man who swore love and then didn't show up has produced actual counter-evidence, she's right. She isn't just playing devil's advocate — she's keeping Rosalind honest, or at least trying to.
There's also something quietly rueful about Celia's position in this scene. She's watching her best friend fall completely apart over a man they met three days ago, a man whose virtues are entirely theoretical from Celia's perspective. The friendship was their life before the Forest. Now Rosalind barely notices she's there. Celia's needling wit — 'tears do not become a man,' 'therefore weep,' 'your chestnut was ever the only colour' — is also a strategy for staying present in a conversation that keeps threatening to leave her behind.
Watch what Celia doesn't say. She never tells Rosalind her love is foolish, or that Orlando will disappoint her, or that this isn't worth it. She holds her skepticism right up to the edge of cruelty and stops. That restraint is the measure of her love for Rosalind — which is, quietly, the deepest love in the play.
“Was” is not “is”. Besides, the oath of a lover is no stronger than the
word of a tapster. They are both the confirmer of false reckonings. He
attends here in the forest on the Duke your father.
Past tense is not present tense. Besides, a lover's oath is no stronger than a bartender's word. They both confirm false accounts. He is here in the forest attending on your father the Duke.
Past tense isn't present tense. Plus, a lover's promise is just as worthless as a bartender's word—they both just confirm false bills. He's here in the forest working for your father.
'was' isnt 'is' lovers lie like bartenders he's here in forest
I met the Duke yesterday, and had much question with him. He asked me
of what parentage I was. I told him, of as good as he, so he laughed
and let me go. But what talk we of fathers when there is such a man as
Orlando?
I met the Duke yesterday and had a long conversation with him. He asked me about my family background. I told him it was as good as his, so he laughed and sent me away. But why are we discussing fathers when there is someone like Orlando?
I ran into the Duke yesterday and we had a long talk. He asked where I came from, and I told him my family was as good as his, so he laughed and let me go. But why are we talking about fathers when there's someone like Orlando?
met the duke yesterday asked my family i said better than his lol but why talk fathers when theres orlando
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?
O, that's an impressive man! He writes impressive verses, speaks impressive words, swears impressive oaths, and breaks them impressively, straight across the heart of his lover, like a weak jouster who spurs his horse on only one side, breaks his lance like a silly fool. But everything is impressive when youth rides it and folly steers it. Who is coming here?
Oh yeah, he's amazing! He writes amazing verses, says amazing things, makes amazing promises, and breaks them spectacularly right through the heart of his lover—like some weak jouster who only spurs his horse on one side and snaps his lance like an idiot. But everything is amazing when youth rides it and folly steers it. Who's coming?
hes so brave writes great stuff breaks oaths brilliantly like a bad jouster but youth is folly whos coming
Mistress and master, you have oft enquired
After the shepherd that complained of love,
Who you saw sitting by me on the turf,
Praising the proud disdainful shepherdess
That was his mistress.
Mistress and master, you have often asked about the shepherd who complained of love, whom you saw sitting by me on the grass, praising the proud, disdainful shepherdess who was his beloved.
Mistress and master, you've been asking a lot about that shepherd who was complaining about love—the one you saw sitting next to me on the grass, going on about the proud, stuck-up shepherdess he's in love with.
u asked bout the shepherd who complains of love the one by me praising proud shepherdess
Well, and what of him?
Well, what about him?
So what's the story with this shepherd?
whats his deal?
If you will see a pageant truly played
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.
If you want to see a scene truly performed between the pale appearance of genuine love and the red glow of scorn and proud disdain, go a little distance from here, and I will take you there, if you will pay attention.
If you want to see a real scene play out between what true love looks like and what scorn and pride look like, come with me a little way, and I'll take you to see it—if you'll watch.
wanna see love play out? true love pale scorn red come w me ill show u
O, come, let us remove.
The sight of lovers feedeth those in love.
Bring us to this sight, and you shall say
I’ll prove a busy actor in their play.
O, come, let us go. The sight of lovers nourishes those in love. Take us to this sight, and you will say I will prove an active participant in their drama.
Oh let's go. Watching lovers feeds people who are in love. Take us there, and I'll show you I can get involved in their story.
lets go seeing lovers feeds love take us there ill be in the play
The Reckoning
Rosalind has been playing the cure for love, and the cure is backfiring. She's been waiting for Orlando and he hasn't come, and she's been crying — which is awkward because she's still dressed as a boy. Celia watches with the affectionate skepticism of someone who can see exactly what's happening. Their banter about Orlando's hair color is a delaying tactic, a way to stay in motion so neither of them has to say the obvious: Rosalind is in love, entirely, without a net. When Corin arrives to offer them a front-row seat to Silvius and Phoebe's spectacle, Rosalind leaps at it — watching other people love badly is the next best thing to being loved herself. She doesn't yet know she's about to watch something that enrages her.
If this happened today…
Your therapist assigned you homework: spend time with someone who's terrible at relationships, observe their patterns, report back. The catch is you've started doing all the things they told you to stop doing — checking your phone every five minutes, rewriting texts, crying in the bathroom. Your best friend watches you spiral and maintains a carefully neutral expression. Then a neighbor texts: want to come watch my friend make the most cringe-worthy attempts at flirting you've ever seen? You say yes immediately, because at least when you're watching someone else's disaster you're not thinking about yours. You walk over. It turns out to be more complicated than you expected.