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That he mifconftrues all that you have done.
Le Beu. Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners; But yet indeed the shorter is his daughter; The other's daughter to the banish'd Duke, And here detain'd by her ufurping uncle To keep his daughter company; whofe loves Are dearer than the natural bond of fifters. But I can tell you, that of late this Duke Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainft his gentle neice, Grounded upon no other argument, But that the people praise her for her virtues, And pity her for her good father's fake; And on my life, his malice 'gainft the lady. Will fuddenly break forth. Sir, fare you well; Hereafter in a better world than this
I fhall defire more love and knowledge of you,
VIII. Re-enter 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 laid up, when the one should be lam'd with reafons, and the other mad without any. Cel. But is all this for
Rof. No, fome of it is for my father's child. Oh, how full of briers is this working-day-world!
Cel. 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 shake them off my coat; these 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 my self. Cel. O, a good with upon you! you will try in time in defpight of a fall; but turning these jefts out of service let us talk in good earnest: is it poffible on fuch a fudden you, fhould fall into so strong a liking with old Sir Rowland's youngest son?
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 fhould hate him; for my father hated his father dearly; yet I hate not Orlando. Rof. No, faith; hate him not, for my fake, Cel. Why should I? doth he not deferve well?
SCENE IX. Enter Duke with Lords. Ref. 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, dispatch you with your safest hafte,.. And get you from our court. Rof. Me, uncle'!
Within these ten days if that thou be'ft found
Rof. I do befeech your Grace,
Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me:
They are as innocent as grace it felf:
Let it fuffice thee that I trust 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.
Or if we did derive it from our friends,
Cel. Dear Sovereign, hear me speak.
Duke. Ay, Celia, we but ftaid her for your fake, Elfe had the 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 seem more virtuous
Which I have paft upon her; the is banish'd,
Col. Pronounce that fentence then on me, my Liege ; I cannot live out of her company.
Duke. You are a fool: you, neice, provide your self : If you out-ftay the time, upon mine honour,
And in the greatnefs of my word, you die. [Exe. Duke,&e, SCENE X.
Cel. O my poor Refalind, where wilt thou go? Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine: I charge thee be not thou more griev'd than I am.
Rof. I have more cause.
Rof. That he hath not.
Cel. No? hath not? Rofalind lacks then the love
Rof. Why, whither shall we go?
Cel. To feek my uncle in the foreft of Arden.
Cel. I'll put my felf in poor and mean attire,
Ref. Were't not better,
Because that I am more than common tall,
Cel. What fhall I call thee when thou art a man?
Rof. I'll have no worfe 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.
Ref, But, coufin, what if we afsaid to steal
The clownish fool out of your father's court?
Cel. He'll go along o'er the wide world with me.
ACT II. SCENE
A Foreft. Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, and two or three Lords like forefters.
OW, my co-mates, and brothers in exile,
Than that of painted pomp? are not these woods
Ami. I would not change it; happy is your Grace
Duke Sen. Come, fhall we go and kill us venifon?
x Lord. Indeed, my Lord,