Cel.

Why, cousin; why, Rosalind;—Cupid have mercy!

—Not a word?

Ros.

Not one to throw at a dog.

Cel.

No, thy words are too precious to be cast away upon curs, throw some of them at me; come, lame me with reasons.

Ros.

Then there were two cousins lay'd up; when the one should be lam'd with reasons, and the other mad without any.

Cel.

But is all this for your father?

Ros.

No, some of it is for my child's father:14Q0299 O, how full of briars is this working-day world!

Cel.

They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee in holiday foolery; if we walk not in the trodden paths, our very petticoats will catch them.

Ros.

I could shake them off my coat; these burs are in my heart.

Cel.

Hem them away.

Ros.

I would try; if I could cry, hem, and have him.

Cel.

Come, come, wrestle with thy affections.

Ros.

O, they take the part of a better wrestler than myself.

Cel.

O, a good wish upon you! you will try in time, in despight of a fall. But, turning these jests out of service, let us talk in good earnest: Is it possible, on such a sudden, you should fall into so strong a liking with old sir Rowland's youngest son?

Ros.

The duke my father lov'd his father dearly.

Cel.

Doth it therefore ensue, that you should love his son dearly? By this kind of chace, I should hate him, for my father hated his father dearly; yet I hate not Orlando.

Ros.

No, 'faith, hate him not, for my sake.

Cel.

Why should I? ^note doth he not deserve well?

Ros.

Let me love him for that; and do you love him because I do.—Look, here comes the duke.

Cel.

With his eyes full of anger.

D. j.
Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste,
And get you from our court.

Ros.
Me, uncle?

D. j.
You, cousin:
Within these ten days if that thou be'st found
So near our publick court as twenty miles,
Thou dy'st for it.

Ros.
I do beseech your grace,
Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me:
If with myself I hold intelligence,
Or have acquaintance with mine own desires;
If that I do not dream, or be not frantick,
(As I do trust I am not) then, dear uncle,
Never, so much as in a thought unborn,
Did I offend your highness.

D. j.
Thus do all traitors;
If their purgation did consist in words,
They are as innocent as grace itself:—
Let it suffice thee, that I trust thee not.

Ros.
Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor:
Tell me, whereon the likelyhood ^note depends.

D. j.
Thou art thy father's daughter, there's enough.

Ros.
So was I, when your highness took his dukedom;
So was I, when your highness banish'd him:
Treason is not inherited, my lord;
Or, if we did derive it from our friends,

What's that to me? my father was no traitor:
Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much,
To think my poverty is treacherous.

Cel.
Dear sovereign, hear me speak.

D. j.
Ay, Celia; we stay'd her for your sake,
Else had she with her father rang'd along.

Cel.
I did not then entreat to have her stay,
It was your pleasure, and your own remorse;
I was too young that time to value her,
But now I know her: if she be a traitor,
Why so am I; we still have slept together,
Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together;
And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans,
Still we went coupl'd and inseperable.

D. j.
She is too subtle for thee; and her smoothness,
Her very silence, and her patience,
Speak to the people, and they pity her.
Thou art a fool: she robs thee of thy name;
And thou wilt show more bright, and seem more virtuous,
When she is gone: then open not thy lips;
Firm and irrevocable is my doom
Which I have past upon her; she is banish'd.

Cel.
Pronounce that sentence then on me, my liege;
I cannot live out of her company.

D. j.
You are a fool:—You, niece, provide yourself;
If you out stay the time, upon mine honour,
And in the greatness of my word, you die. [Exeunt Duke, and Attendants.

Cel.
O my poor Rosalind! whither wilt thou go?
Wilt thou change fathers? ^note 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
Hath banish'd me his daughter?

Ros.
That he hath not.

Cel.
No? hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love
Which teacheth me14Q0300 that ^note thou and I am one:
Shall we be sunder'd? 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 charge ^note upon you,
To bear your griefs yourself, and leave me out;
For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale,
Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee.

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? ^note
Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.

Cel.
I'll put myself in poor and mean attire,
And with a kind of umber smirch ^note my face;
The like do you; so shall we pass along,
And never stir assailants.

Ros.
Were it not better,
Because that I am more than common tall,
That I did suit me all points like a man?
A gallant curtelass upon my thigh,
A boar-spear in my hand; and (in my heart
Lye there what hidden woman's fear there will)
We'll have a swashing and a martial outside;
As many other manish cowards have,

That do out-face 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? ^note

Cel.
Something that hath a reference to my state;
No longer Celia, but Aliena.

Ros.
But, cousin, what if we assay'd 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 ^note content;
To liberty, and not to banishment. [Exeunt.

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