ACT I, SCENE III. A room in the palace.
          
          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.
           
          ROSALIND
          CELIA
          
            But is all this for your father?
           
          
            Then there were two cousins laid up; when the one
            should be lamed with reasons and the other mad
            without any.
           
          ROSALIND
          
            No, some of it is for my child's father. O, how
            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.
           
          CELIA
          
          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
            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.
           
          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.
           
          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
            And get you from our court.
           
          ROSALIND
          
          DUKE FREDERICK
          
            You, cousin
            Within these ten days if that thou be'st found
            So near our public court as twenty miles,
            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,
            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:
            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.
           
          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,
            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,
            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,
            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,
            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,
            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.
           
          ROSALIND
          
          CELIA
          
                              Thou hast not, cousin;
            Prithee be cheerful: know'st thou not, the duke
            Hath banish'd me, his daughter?
           
          ROSALIND
          
          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,
            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.
           
          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.
           
          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,
            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--
            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;
            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
            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,
            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