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And pity her for her good father's fake;
And, on my life, his malice ʼgainst the lady
Will suddenly break forth. Sir, fare you well;
Hereafter, in a better world than this,
I shall desire more love and knowledge of you.
Orla. I rest much bounden to you: fare you well.
Thus must I from the smoke into the smother;
From tyrant duke unto a tyrant brother :
But, heav'nly Rosalind !
Reenter Celia, and Rosalind.
. Why, coufin, why, Rosalind; Cupid have mercy! not a
Rof. 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.
Rof. 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
Rof. No, some of it is for my father's child. O, how full of
briers 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.
Rof. I could shake them off my coat; these burs are in my
Cel. Hem them away:
Rof. I would try, if I could cry, hem, and have him.
Cel. Come, come, wrestle with thy affections.
. , they take the part of a better wrestler than myself.
Cel. O, a good wish upon you! you will try in time, in despite
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 fir Rowland's youngest fon?
Rof. 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. Rof. No, 'faith; hate him not, my
sake. Cel. Why should I? doth he not deserve well ?
Enter Duke, with Lords.
Ros. Let me love him for that; and do you love him, because
I do. Look, here comes the duke.
Cel. With his
Duke. Mistress, despatch you with your safest haste,
And get you from our court.
Rof. Me, uncle!
Within these ten days if that thou be'st found
So near our publick court as twenty miles,
Thou diest 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 my 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.
Duke. 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.
Rof. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor ;
Tell me, whereon the likelihood depends.
Duke. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's enough.
Rof. 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.
Duke. Ay, Celia, we but 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 1; 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 coupled and inseparable.
Duke. She is too subtle for thee; and her smoothness,
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 pass’d upon her; she is banish’d.
Cel. Pronounce that sentence then on me, my liege;
I cannot live out of her company.
Duke. You are a fool: you, neice, provide yourself;
you outstay the time, upon mine honour,
And in the greatness of my word, you die.
[Exe. Duke, &c.
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.
Rof. I have more cause.
Cel. Thou hast not, dearest cousin;
Pr’ythee, be cheerful; know'st thou not, the duke
Haš banish'd me his daughter?
Rof. That he hath not.
Cel. No? hath not ? Rosalind lacks then the love
Which teacheth me that thou and I are 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 Ay,
Whither to go, and what to bear with us;
And do not seek to take your charge 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.
Rof. Why, whither shall we go?
Cel. To seek my uncle in the forest of Arden.
Rof. Alas, what danger will it be to us,
Maids as we are, to travel forth fo far!
Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.
. I'll put myself in poor and mean attire,
And with a kind of umber fmutch my face;
The like do you ; so shall we pass along,
And never stir assailants.
Rof. Were't not better,
Because that I am more than common tall,
That I did suit me all points like a man?
A gallant curtelax upon my thigh,
A boar-spear in my hand, and (in my heart
Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will)
I'll have 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?
Rof. I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own page, And therefore look you call me, Ganimed:
But what will you be callid ?
Cel. Something that hath a reference to my state: No longer Celia, but Aliena.
Rof. But, cousin, what if we affay'd to steal
The clownish fool out of your father's court?
Would he not be a comfort to our tavel ?
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 !
A Forest. Enter Duke senior, Amiens, and two or three Lords like forefters.
Nach my com custom made this life more sweet
Hath not old custom made this life more sweet
Than that of painted pomp? are not these woods
More free from peril than the envious court?
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,
The season's difference; as, the icy fang,
And churlish chiding of the winter's wind,
Which when it bites and blows upon my body,
Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say,
This is no flattery: these are counsellors
That feelingly persuade me what I am.
Sweet are the uses of adversity,
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,