SCENE X.
Cel.
O my poor Rosalind; where wilt thou go?
Wilt thou change fathers! I will give thee mine:
I charge thee, be not thou more griev'd than I am.
Ros.
I have more cause.
Cel.
Thou hast not, cousin;
Pr'ythee, be cheerful; know'st thou not, the Duke
Has banish'd me his daughter?
Ros.
That he hath not.
Cel.
No? hath not?5 note
Rosalind lacks then the love,
Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one.
Shall we be sundred? shall we part, sweet Girl?
No, let my father seek another heir.
Therefore devise with me, how we may fly;
Whither to go, and what to bear with us;
And do not seek to take your change6 note upon you,
To bear your griefs yourself, and leave me out:
For by this heav'n, now at our sorrows pale,
Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee.
-- 25 --
Ros.
Why, whither shall we go?
Cel.
To seek my Uncle in the forest of Arden.
Ros.
Alas, what danger will it be to us,
Maids as we are, to travel forth so far!
Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.
Cel.
I'll put myself in poor and mean attire,
And with a kind of umber smirch my face;
The like do you; so shall we pass along,
And never stir assailants.
Ros.
Were't not better,
Because that I am more than common tall,
That I did suit me all points like a man?
A gallant Curtle-ax7 note upon my thigh,
A boar-spear in my hand, and (in my heart
Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will)
I'll have8 note a swashing and a martial outside,
As many other mannish Cowards have,
That do outface it with their semblances.
Cel.
What shall I call thee, when thou art a man?
Ros.
I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own Page;
And therefore, look, you call me Ganimed.
But what will you be call'd?
Cel.
Something that hath a reference to my state:
No longer Celia, but Aliena.
Ros.
But, Cousin, what if we assaid to steal
The clownish Fool out of your father's Court?
Would he not be a comfort to our travel?
Cel.
He'll go along o'er the wide world with me.
Leave me alone to woo him. Let's away,
And get our jewels and our wealth together;
Devise the fittest time, and safest way
To hide us from pursuit that will be made
After my flight: now go we in content
To Liberty, and not to Banishment.
[Exeunt.
-- 26 --
Samuel Johnson [1765], The plays of William Shakespeare, in eight volumes, with the corrections and illustrations of Various Commentators; To which are added notes by Sam. Johnson (Printed for J. and R. Tonson [and] C. Corbet [etc.], London) [word count] [S11001].
