As You Like It: Act 1, Scene 3
Enter CELIA and ROSALIND.
1Why, cousin! why, Rosalind! Cupid have mercy!
2not a word?
3Not one to throw at a dog.
4No, thy words are too precious to be cast away
5upon curs; throw some of them at me;
6lame me with reasons.
7Then there were two cousins laid up; when the
8one should be lamed with reasons and the other
9mad without any.
10But is all this for your father?
11No, some of it is for my child's father. O, how
12full of briars is this working-day world!
13They are but burrs, cousin, thrown upon thee in
14holiday foolery: if we walk not in the trodden
15paths our very petticoats will catch them.
16I could shake them off my coat: these burrs
17are in my heart.
18Hem them away.
19I would try, if I could cry 'hem' and have
21Come, come, wrestle with thy affections.
22O, they take the part of a better wrestler
24O, a good wish upon you! you will try in time, in
25despite of a fall. But, turning these jests out of
26service, let us talk in good earnest: is it possible,
27on such a sudden, you should fall into so strong a
28liking with old Sir Rowland's youngest son?
29The duke my father loved his father
31Doth it therefore ensue that you should love his
32son dearly? By this kind of chase, I should hate
33him, for my father hated his father dearly; yet I
34hate not Orlando.
35No, faith, hate him not, for my sake.
36Why should I not? doth he not deserve
Enter DUKE [FREDERICK], with Lords.
38Let me love him for that, and do you love him
39because I do. Look, here comes the duke.
40With his eyes full of anger.
41Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste
42And get you from our court.
43Within these ten days if that thou be'st found
44So near our public court as twenty miles,
45Thou diest for it.
45I do beseech your grace,
46Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me:
47If with myself I hold intelligence
48Or have acquaintance with mine own desires,
49If that I do not dream or be not frantic,
50As I do trust I am notthen, dear uncle,
51Never so much as in a thought unborn
52Did I offend your highness.
52Thus do all traitors:
53If their purgation did consist in words,
54They are as innocent as grace itself:
55Let it suffice thee that I trust thee not.
56Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor:
57Tell me whereon the likelihood depends.
58Thou art thy father's daughter; there's enough.
59So was I when your highness took his dukedom;
60So was I when your highness banish'd him:
61Treason is not inherited, my lord;
62Or, if we did derive it from our friends,
63What's that to me? my father was no traitor:
64Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much
65To think my poverty is treacherous.
66Dear sovereign, hear me speak.
67Ay, Celia; we stay'd her for your sake,
68Else had she with her father ranged along.
69I did not then entreat to have her stay;
70It was your pleasure and your own remorse:
71I was too young that time to value her;
72But now I know her: if she be a traitor,
73Why so am I; we still have slept together,
74Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together,
75And wheresoever we went, like Juno's swans,
76Still we went coupled and inseparable.
77She is too subtle for thee; and her smoothness,
78Her very silence and her patience
79Speak to the people, and they pity her.
80Thou art a fool: she robs thee of thy name;
81And thou wilt show more bright and seem more virtuous
82When she is gone. Then open not thy lips:
83Firm and irrevocable is my doom
84Which I have pass'd upon her; she is banish'd.
85Pronounce that sentence then on me, my liege:
86I cannot live out of her company.
87You are a fool. You, niece, provide yourself:
88If you outstay the time, upon mine honour,
89And in the greatness of my word, you die.
Exit DUKE, etc.
90O my poor Rosalind, whither wilt thou go?
91Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine.
92I charge thee, be not thou more griev'd than I am.
93I have more cause.
93Thou hast not, cousin;
94Prithee be cheerful: know'st thou not, the duke
95Hath banish'd me, his daughter?
95That he hath not.
96No, hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love
97Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one:
98Shall we be sunder'd? shall we part, sweet girl?
99No: let my father seek another heir.
100Therefore devise with me how we may fly,
101Whither to go and what to bear with us;
102And do not seek to take your change upon you,
103To bear your griefs yourself and leave me out;
104For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale,
105Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee.
106Why, whither shall we go?
107To seek my uncle in the forest of Arden.
108Alas, what danger will it be to us,
109Maids as we are, to travel forth so far!
110Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.
111I'll put myself in poor and mean attire
112And with a kind of umber smirch my face;
113The like do you: so shall we pass along
114And never stir assailants.
114Were it not better,
115Because that I am more than common tall,
116That I did suit me all points like a man?
117A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh,
118A boar-spear in my hand; andin my heart
119Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will
120We'll have a swashing and a martial outside,
121As many other mannish cowards have
122That do outface it with their semblances.
123What shall I call thee when thou art a man?
124I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own page;
125And therefore look you call me Ganymede.
126But what will you be call'd?
127Something that hath a reference to my state
128No longer Celia, but Aliena.
129But, cousin, what if we assay'd to steal
130The clownish fool out of your father's court?
131Would he not be a comfort to our travel?
132He'll go along o'er the wide world with me;
133Leave me alone to woo him. Let's away,
134And get our jewels and our wealth together,
135Devise the fittest time and safest way
136To hide us from pursuit that will be made
137After my flight. Now go we in content
138To liberty and not to banishment.