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Rof. No, faith, hate him not, for my fake.
Enter Duke, with lords.
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, dispatch you And get you from our court. Rof. Me, uncle ?
Duke. You, cousin :
Within these ten days if that thou be'st found
Thou dieft for it.
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 confist in words,
Rof. Yet your miftruft cannot make me a traitor: Tell me, whereon the likelihood depends.
Duke. Thou art thy father's daughter, there's enough. Rof. So was I when your highness took his dukedom; So was I, when your highness banish'd him : Treafon is not inherited, my lord;
Or, if we did derive it from our friends,
What's that to me? my father was no traitor :
Cel. Dear fovereign, hear me speak.
Duke. Ay, Celia; we but stay'd her for your fake, Elfe had she with her father rang'd along.
Cel. I did not then entreat to have her stay,
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 fhow more bright, and feem more "virtuous, When fhe is gone: then open not thy lips;
Firm and irrevocable is my doom
Which I have past upon her; she is banish'd.
Cel. Pronounce that fentence then on me, my liege; I cannot live out of her company.
Duke. You are a fool;-You, niece, provide yourself; If you out-stay the time, upon mine honour, And in the greatness of my word, you die.
[Exeunt Duke, &c.
Cel. O my poor Rofalind! whither wilt thou go?
your own remorfe ;]-the refult of your own feelings. a virtuous,]-excellent.
Cel. Thou haft not, coufin;
Pr'ythee, be cheerful: know'st thou not, the duke
Rof. That he hath not.
Cel. No? hath not? Rofalind lacks then the love
Rof. Why, whither fhall we go?
Cel. To feek my uncle in the forest of Arden.
Cel. I'll put myself in poor and mean attire,
Rof. Were it not better,
Because that I am more than common tall,
A boar-spear in my hand; and (in my heart
• "Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one :"
umber Smirch my face ;]-ftain my complexion brown.
mannish cowards]-male cowards.
I'll have a fwaggering.
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 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 assay'd to steal The clownish fool out of your father's court? Would he not be a comfort to our travel?
Cel. He'll go along o'er the wide world with me;
To hide us from pursuit that will be made
The Foreft of Arden.
Enter Duke Jenior, Amiens, and two or three lords like foresters.
Duke Sen. Now, my co-mates, and brothers in exile, Hath not old cuftom made this life more sweet
Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods
That feelingly perfuade me what I am.
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Ami. I would not change it; Happy is your grace,
Duke Sen. Come, fhall we go and kill us venifon?
1 Lord. Indeed, my lord,
The melancholy Jaques grieves at that;
Under an oak, whofe antique root peeps out
* forked beads]-barbed arrows.
u brawls]-purls, murmurs.