ROSALIND.
I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder before you came; for look here what I found on a palm-tree. I was never so berhymed since Pythagoras’ time that I was an Irish rat, which I can hardly remember.
CELIA.
Trow you who hath done this?
ROSALIND.
Is it a man?
CELIA.
And a chain, that you once wore, about his neck. Change you colour?
ROSALIND.
I prithee, who?
CELIA.
O Lord, Lord, it is a hard matter for friends to meet; but mountains may be removed with earthquakes and so encounter.
ROSALIND.
Nay, but who is it?
CELIA.
Is it possible?
ROSALIND.
Nay, I prithee now, with most petitionary vehemence, tell me who it is.
CELIA.
O wonderful, wonderful, most wonderful wonderful, and yet again wonderful, and after that, out of all whooping!