| ACT I SCENE III | A room in the palace. | |
| | Enter CELIA and ROSALIND | |
| CELIA | Why, cousin! why, Rosalind! Cupid have mercy! not a word? | |
| ROSALIND | Not one to throw at a dog. | |
| CELIA | No, thy words are too precious to be cast away upon | |
| | curs; throw some of them at me; come, lame me with reasons. | 5 |
| ROSALIND | Then there were two cousins laid up; when the one | |
| | should be lamed with reasons and the other mad | |
| | without any. | |
| CELIA | But is all this for your father? | |
| ROSALIND | No, some of it is for my child's father. O, how | 10 |
| | full of briers is this working-day world! | |
| CELIA | 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. | |
| ROSALIND | I could shake them off my coat: these burs are in my heart. | 15 |
| CELIA | Hem them away. | |
| ROSALIND | I would try, if I could cry 'hem' and have him. | |
| CELIA | Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. | |
| ROSALIND | O, they take the part of a better wrestler than myself! | |
| CELIA | O, a good wish upon you! you will try in time, in | 20 |
| | 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 Sir Rowland's youngest son? | |
| ROSALIND | The duke my father loved his father dearly. | 25 |
| CELIA | 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. | |
| ROSALIND | No, faith, hate him not, for my sake. | 30 |
| CELIA | Why should I not? doth he not deserve well? | |
| ROSALIND | Let me love him for that, and do you love him | |
| | because I do. Look, here comes the duke. | |
| CELIA | With his eyes full of anger. | |
| | Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with Lords | |
| DUKE FREDERICK | Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste | 35 |
| | And get you from our court. | |
| ROSALIND | Me, uncle? | |
| DUKE FREDERICK | You, cousin | |
| | Within these ten days if that thou be'st found | |
| | So near our public court as twenty miles, | 40 |
| | Thou diest for it. | |
| ROSALIND | 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, | 45 |
| | If that I do not dream or be not frantic,-- | |
| | As I do trust I am not--then, dear uncle, | |
| | Never so much as in a thought unborn | |
| | Did I offend your highness. | |
| DUKE FREDERICK | Thus do all traitors: | 50 |
| | If their purgation did consist in words, | |
| | They are as innocent as grace itself: | |
| | Let it suffice thee that I trust thee not. | |
| ROSALIND | Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor: | |
| | Tell me whereon the likelihood depends. | 55 |
| DUKE FREDERICK | Thou art thy father's daughter; there's enough. | |
| ROSALIND | 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, | 60 |
| | 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. | |
| CELIA | Dear sovereign, hear me speak. | |
| DUKE FREDERICK | Ay, Celia; we stay'd her for your sake, | 65 |
| | Else had she with her father ranged along. | |
| CELIA | 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, | 70 |
| | Why so am I; we still have slept together, | |
| | Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together, | |
| | And wheresoever we went, like Juno's swans, | |
| | Still we went coupled and inseparable. | |
| DUKE FREDERICK | She is too subtle for thee; and her smoothness, | 75 |
| | 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: | 80 |
| | 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: | 85 |
| | If you outstay the time, upon mine honour, | |
| | And in the greatness of my word, you die. | |
| | Exeunt DUKE FREDERICK and Lords | |
| CELIA | O my poor Rosalind, whither wilt thou go? | |
| | Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine. | |
| | I charge thee, be not thou more grieved than I am. | 90 |
| ROSALIND | I have more cause. | |
| CELIA | Thou hast not, cousin; | |
| | Prithee be cheerful: know'st thou not, the duke | |
| | Hath banish'd me, his daughter? | |
| ROSALIND | That he hath not. | 95 |
| CELIA | 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? | |
| | No: let my father seek another heir. | |
| | Therefore devise with me how we may fly, | 100 |
| | Whither to go and what to bear with us; | |
| | And do not seek to take your change 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. | 105 |
| ROSALIND | Why, whither shall we go? | |
| CELIA | To seek my uncle in the forest of Arden. | |
| ROSALIND | Alas, what danger will it be to us, | |
| | Maids as we are, to travel forth so far! | |
| | Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. | 110 |
| CELIA | I'll put myself in poor and mean attire | |
| | And with a kind of umber smirch my face; | |
| | The like do you: so shall we pass along | |
| | And never stir assailants. | |
| ROSALIND | Were it not better, | 115 |
| | Because that I am more than common tall, | |
| | That I did suit me all points like a man? | |
| | A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh, | |
| | A boar-spear in my hand; and--in my heart | |
| | Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will-- | 120 |
| | We'll have a swashing and a martial outside, | |
| | 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; | 125 |
| | And therefore look you call me Ganymede. | |
| | But what will you be call'd? | |
| CELIA | Something that hath a reference to my state | |
| | No longer Celia, but Aliena. | |
| ROSALIND | But, cousin, what if we assay'd to steal | 130 |
| | The clownish fool out of your father's court? | |
| | Would he not be a comfort to our travel? | |
| CELIA | 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, | 135 |
| | 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. | |
| | Exeunt | |