“And in the noise of the struggle I awakened from my miserable slumber,” said the stranger.
“Are you his brother? Was it you who so often plotted to kill him?” asked Celia.
“And your experience makes you sad?” quoth Rosalind.
“It was I, but it is I no longer,” said Oliver.
Orlando’s noble behaviour had completely overcome his malicious nature; all evil thoughts against Orlando were banished, and for the future the two brothers were the best of friends.
Oliver was made welcome by the Duke, and was afterwards talking to Orlando in his own cave, when his brother, calling on the name of Rosalind, suddenly fainted. His arm had been badly torn by the lioness, and had been bleeding all this time. Oliver revived him, bound up the wound, and after a little, Orlando, being brave of heart, begged his brother, stranger as he was, to find his friends at the shepherd’s cottage, and explain to them why he had been unable to keep his promise. He sent the handkerchief dyed in his blood to the shepherd youth whom he had called in sport his Rosalind.
On hearing of the peril through which Orlando had passed, Rosalind was so moved that she almost betrayed herself by fainting. Oliver was somewhat astonished at such weakness on the part of a youth, but Rosalind tried to pretend it was only a counterfeit. Her pale looks, however, showed too plainly that the swoon was no counterfeit, though she persisted in declaring it was, and bade Oliver carry back word to Orlando how well she had pretended to faint.