As You Like It: Act 1, Scene 3

            Enter CELIA and ROSALIND.

  1   Why, cousin! why, Rosalind! Cupid have mercy!
  2   not a word?

  3   Not one to throw at a dog.

  4   No, thy words are too precious to be cast away
  5   upon curs; throw some of them at me;
  6   lame me with reasons.

  7   Then there were two cousins laid up; when the
  8   one should be lamed with reasons and the other
  9   mad without any.

 10   But is all this for your father?

 11   No, some of it is for my child's father. O, how
 12   full of briars is this working-day world!

 13   They are but burrs, cousin, thrown upon thee in
 14   holiday foolery: if we walk not in the trodden
 15   paths our very petticoats will catch them.

 16   I could shake them off my coat: these burrs
 17   are in my heart.

 18   Hem them away.

 19   I would try, if I could cry 'hem' and have
 20   him.

 21   Come, come, wrestle with thy affections.

 22   O, they take the part of a better wrestler
 23   than myself!

 24   O, a good wish upon you! you will try in time, in
 25   despite of a fall. But, turning these jests out of
 26   service, let us talk in good earnest: is it possible,
 27   on such a sudden, you should fall into so strong a
 28   liking with old Sir Rowland's youngest son?

 29   The duke my father loved his father
 30   dearly.

 31   Doth it therefore ensue that you should love his
 32   son dearly? By this kind of chase, I should hate
 33    him, for my father hated his father dearly; yet I
 34   hate not Orlando.

 35   No, faith, hate him not, for my sake.

 36   Why should I not? doth he not deserve
 37   well?

           Enter DUKE [FREDERICK], with Lords.

 38   Let me love him for that, and do you love him
 39   because I do. Look, here comes the duke.

 40   With his eyes full of anger.

 41   Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste
 42   And get you from our court.

 42                                            Me, uncle?

 42                                                              You, cousin.
 43   Within these ten days if that thou be'st found
 44   So near our public court as twenty miles,
 45   Thou diest for it.

 45                                   I do beseech your grace,
 46   Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me:
 47   If with myself I hold intelligence
 48   Or have acquaintance with mine own desires,
 49   If that I do not dream or be not frantic,—
 50   As I do trust I am not—then, dear uncle,
 51   Never so much as in a thought unborn
 52   Did I offend your highness.

 52                                               Thus do all traitors:
 53   If their purgation did consist in words,
 54   They are as innocent as grace itself:
 55   Let it suffice thee that I trust thee not.

 56   Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor:
 57   Tell me whereon the likelihood depends.

 58   Thou art thy father's daughter; there's enough.

 59   So was I when your highness took his dukedom;
 60   So was I when your highness banish'd him:
 61   Treason is not inherited, my lord;
 62   Or, if we did derive it from our friends,
 63   What's that to me? my father was no traitor:
 64   Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much
 65   To think my poverty is treacherous.

 66   Dear sovereign, hear me speak.

 67   Ay, Celia; we stay'd her for your sake,
 68   Else had she with her father ranged along.

 69   I did not then entreat to have her stay;
 70   It was your pleasure and your own remorse:
 71   I was too young that time to value her;
 72   But now I know her: if she be a traitor,
 73   Why so am I; we still have slept together,
 74   Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together,
 75   And wheresoever we went, like Juno's swans,
 76   Still we went coupled and inseparable.

 77   She is too subtle for thee; and her smoothness,
 78   Her very silence and her patience
 79   Speak to the people, and they pity her.
 80   Thou art a fool: she robs thee of thy name;
 81   And thou wilt show more bright and seem more virtuous
 82   When she is gone. Then open not thy lips:
 83   Firm and irrevocable is my doom
 84   Which I have pass'd upon her; she is banish'd.

 85   Pronounce that sentence then on me, my liege:
 86   I cannot live out of her company.

 87   You are a fool. You, niece, provide yourself:
 88   If you outstay the time, upon mine honour,
 89   And in the greatness of my word, you die.

           Exit DUKE, etc.

 90   O my poor Rosalind, whither wilt thou go?
 91   Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine.
 92   I charge thee, be not thou more griev'd than I am.

 93   I have more cause.

 93                                   Thou hast not, cousin;
 94   Prithee be cheerful: know'st thou not, the duke
 95   Hath banish'd me, his daughter?

 95                                                           That he hath not.

 96   No, hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love
 97   Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one:
 98   Shall we be sunder'd? shall we part, sweet girl?
 99   No: let my father seek another heir.
100   Therefore devise with me how we may fly,
101   Whither to go and what to bear with us;
102   And do not seek to take your change upon you,
103   To bear your griefs yourself and leave me out;
104   For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale,
105   Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee.

106   Why, whither shall we go?

107   To seek my uncle in the forest of Arden.

108   Alas, what danger will it be to us,
109   Maids as we are, to travel forth so far!
110   Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.

111   I'll put myself in poor and mean attire
112   And with a kind of umber smirch my face;
113   The like do you: so shall we pass along
114   And never stir assailants.

114                                              Were it not better,
115   Because that I am more than common tall,
116   That I did suit me all points like a man?
117   A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh,
118   A boar-spear in my hand; and—in my heart
119   Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will—
120   We'll have a swashing and a martial outside,
121   As many other mannish cowards have
122   That do outface it with their semblances.

123   What shall I call thee when thou art a man?

124   I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own page;
125   And therefore look you call me Ganymede.
126   But what will you be call'd?

127   Something that hath a reference to my state
128   No longer Celia, but Aliena.

129   But, cousin, what if we assay'd to steal
130   The clownish fool out of your father's court?
131   Would he not be a comfort to our travel?

132   He'll go along o'er the wide world with me;
133   Leave me alone to woo him. Let's away,
134   And get our jewels and our wealth together,
135   Devise the fittest time and safest way
136   To hide us from pursuit that will be made
137   After my flight. Now go we in content
138   To liberty and not to banishment.