Rosalind.
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 laid 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 father's child. Oh how full
of briers is this working-day-world.
Cel.
They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee in a 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 my self.
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 chase I should hate him, for my father
hated his father dearly; yet I hate not Orlando.
-- 198 --
Ros.
No faith, hate him not for my sake.
Cel.
Why should I not? doth he not deserve well?
George Sewell [1723–5], The works of Shakespear in six [seven] volumes. Collated and Corrected by the former Editions, By Mr. Pope ([Vol. 7] Printed by J. Darby, for A. Bettesworth [and] F. Fayram [etc.], London) [word count] [S11101].