SCENE IV. An Apartment in the Palace. Enter CELIA and 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.-But is all this for your father? Ros. No, some of it is for my child's father: Oh, 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. Oh, they take the part of a better wrestler than myself. Cel. Oh, a good wish upon you!-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, loved 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 pot Orlando. Ros. No, 'faith, hate him not, for my sake. Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with LORDS. Ros. Let me love him for that; and do you love him, because I do:-Look, here comes the duke! full of anger. Cel. With his eyes Fred. Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste, And get you from our court! Ros. Me, uncle? Fred. You, cousin : Within these ten days, if that thou be'st found Ros. [Kneeling.] I do beseech your grace, Or have acquaintance with my own desires; Fred. Thus do all traitors; If their purgation did consist in words, Ros. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor : Tell me, whereon the likelihood depends. Fred. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's enough. Ros. So was 1, when your highness took his dukedom. So was I, when your highness banish'd him : Or, if we did derive it from our friends, Cel. Dear sovereign, hear me speak! Fred. 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, Why, so am I; we still have slept together, Fred. She is too subtle for thee; and her smooth- 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. Cel. Pronounce that sentence, then, on me, my liege; I cannot live out of her company. Fred. You are a fool !-You, niece, provide your self; If you outstay the time, upon mine honour, [Exeunt DUKE FREDERICK, &c. Cel. Thou hast not, cousin; Pr'y thee, be cheerful: know'st thou not, the duke Ros. That he hath not. Cel. No? hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love, Which teacheth thee, that thou and I am one: Shall we be sunder'd? shall we part, sweet girl? Cel. To seek my uncle, in the forest of Arden. Cel. I'll put myself in poor and mean attire; Ros. Were it not better, Because, that I am more than common tall, A boar-spear in my hand; and (in my heart, 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 Ganymede. 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 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; To hide us from pursuit, that will be made After my flight. Adam. What! my young master ?-Oh, my gentle master, Oh, my sweet master! Oh, you memory Of old Sir Rowland! why, what make you here? D |