And pity her for her good father's fake; you well; I shall defire more love and knowledge of you. [Exit. Orla. I reft much bounden to you: fare you well. Thus muft I from the smoke into the fmother; [Exit. From tyrant duke unto a tyrant brother : But, heav'nly Rofalind! SCENE VIII. Reenter Celia, and Rofalind. Cel. Why, coufin, why, Rofalind; Cupid have mercy! not a word ? Rof. Not one to throw at a dog. Cel. No, thy words are too precious to be caft away upon curs, throw fome of them at me; come, lame me with reasons. Rof. Then there were two coufins lay'd up; when the one fhould be lam'd with reasons, and the other mad without any. Cel. But is all this for your father? Rof. No, fome of it is for my father's child. O, how full of briers is this working-day-world! Gel. They are but burs, coufin, thrown upon thee in holiday foolery; if we walk not in the trodden paths, our very petticoats will catch them. Rof. I could fhake them off my coat; thefe burs are in my heart. Cel. Hem them away. Rof. I would try, if I could cry, hem, and have him. Cel. Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. Rof. O, they take the part of a better wrestler than myself. Cel. O, a good wifh upon you! you will try in time, in defpite of a fall: but, turning these jefts out of fervice, let us talk in good earneft: is it poffible, on such a sudden, you should fall into fo ftrong a liking with old fir Rowland's youngest fon? Rof. Rof. The duke my father lov'd his father dearly. Cel. Doth it therefore enfue, that you should love his fon 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, for my sake. Rof. Let me love him for that; and do you love him, because I do. Look, here comes the duke. Cel. With his eyes full of anger. Duke. Mistress, despatch you with your safest hafte, And get you from our court. Rof. Me, uncle! Duke. You. Within these ten days if that thou be'st found Rof. I do befeech your grace, Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me: Or have acquaintance with my own defires, Duke. Thus do all traitors; If their purgation did consist in words, Rof. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor; Duke. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's enough. So So was I when your highness banish'd him: Or, if we did derive it from our friends, Cel. Dear fovereign, hear me speak. Duke. Ay, Celia, we but ftay'd her for your fake, Cel. I did not then entreat to have her stay; Still we went coupled and infeparable. Duke. She is too fubtle for thee; and her smoothness, Her very filence, and her patience, Speak to the people, and they pity her: Thou art a fool; fhe robs thee of thy name, And thou wilt show more bright, and feem more virtuous Firm and irrevocable is my doom, Which I have pass'd upon her; she is banish'd. Cel. Pronounce that fentence then on me, my liege; I cannot live out of her company. If 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. SCENE X. [Exe. Duke, &c. Cel. O my poor Rofalind! where wilt thou go? Rof. Rof. I have more cause. Cel. Thou haft not, dearest coufin; Pr'ythee, be cheerful; know'ft thou not, the duke Rof. That he hath not. Cel. No? hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love Cel. To feek my uncle in the forest of Arden. Cel. I'll put myself in poor and mean attire, Rof. Were't not better, Because that I am more than common tall, A boar-fpear in my hand, and (in my heart As many other mannish cowards have, That do outface it with their femblances. Cel. What fhall 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 But what will you be call'd? Cel. Something that hath a reference to my state: No longer Celia, but Aliena. Rof. But, coufin, what if we affay'd to steal Cel. He'll go along o'er the wide world with me. [Exeunt ********* ACT II. SCENE I. A Foreft. Enter Duke fenior, Amiens, and two or three Lords like forefters. N DUKE Senior. OW, my comates, and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet VOL. II. A a Wears |