Rof. No, faith, hate him not, for my fake. Cel. Why should I 'not? doth he not deserve well? 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. Miftrefs, difpatch you with your And get you from our court. Rof. Me, uncle? Duke. You, coufin : fafest hafte, 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 confift in words, Let it fuffice thee, that I truft thee not. Rof. Yet your mistrust 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, 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 fhow more bright, and feem more "virtuous, When she is gone: then open not thy lips; Firm and irrevocable is my doom Which I have paft upon her; fhe 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-fstay 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? m your own remorfe ;]-the refult of your own feelings. Cel. 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 Therefore devife with me, how we may fly, 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, • “Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one :" '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 affay'd to steal Cel. He'll go along o'er the wide world with me; [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I. The Foreft of Arden. Enter Duke Jenior, Amiens, and two or three lords like forefters. Duke Sen. Now, my co-mates, and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? That That feelingly persuade me what I am. Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head : And this our life, exempt from publick haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Ami. I would not change it; Happy is your grace, Into fo quiet and fo sweet a ftile. Duke Sen. Come, fhall we go and kill us venison? And yet it irks it irks me, the poor dappled fools, Being native burghers of this defert city, Should, in their own confines, with forked heads 1 Lord. Indeed, my lord, The melancholy Jaques grieves at that; And, in that kind, fwears you do more ufurp Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you. Did steal behind him, as he lay along Under an oak, whofe antique root peeps out forked beads]-barbed arrows. u brawls]-purls, murmurs. O 3 Stood |