Читать книгу The Complete Works of Shakespeare онлайн
886 страница из 942
Cel. So you may put a man in your belly.
Ros. Is he of God’s making? What manner of man? Is his head worth a hat? or his chin worth a beard?
Cel. Nay, he hath but a little beard.
Ros. 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.
Cel. It is young Orlando, that tripp’d up the wrastler’s heels, and your heart, both in an instant.
Ros. Nay, but the devil take mocking. Speak sad brow and true maid.
Cel. I’ faith, coz, ’tis he.
Ros. Orlando?
Cel. Orlando.
Ros. Alas the day, what shall I do with my doublet and hose? What did he when thou saw’st him? What said he? How look’d he? Wherein went he? What makes he here? Did he ask for me? Where remains he? How parted he with thee? And when shalt thou see him again? Answer me in one word.
Cel. You must borrow me Gargantua’s mouth first; ’tis a word too great for any mouth of this age’s size. To say ay and no to these particulars is more than to answer in a catechism.