I was too young that time to value her, Still we went coupled and inseparable. Duke Frederick. 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 pass'd upon her; she is banish'd. Celia. Pronounce that sentence then on me, my liege: I cannot live out of her company. Duke Frederick. You are a fool.-You, niece, provide yourself: If you outstay the time, upon mine honour, [Exeunt Duke Frederick and Lords. Celia. Hath banish'd me, his daughter? Rosalind. That he hath not. Celia. No, hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love Celia. To seek my uncle in the forest of Arden. Rosalind. Were it not better, Because that I am more than common tall, A boar-spear in my hand; and, in my heart As many other mannish cowards have That do outface it with their semblances. Celia. What shall I call thee when thou art a man? Rosalind. I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own page, And therefore look you call me Ganymede. But what will you be call'd? Celia. Something that hath a reference to my state; Rosalind. But, cousin, what if we assay'd to steal Celia. He'll go along o'er the wide world with me; And get our jewels and our wealth together, To hide us from pursuit that will be made [Exeunt. |