That he mifconftrues all that you have done.
The Duke is humorous; what he is indeed
More fuits you to conceive, than me to speak of.
Orla. I thank you, Sir; and pray you, tell me this
Which of the two was daughter of the Duke,
That here were at the wrestling?

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

[Exit.

I fhall defire more love and knowledge of you,
Orla. I reft much bounden to you: fare you well!
Thus muft I from the fmoke into the fmother;
From tyrant Duke unto a tyrant brother:
But, heav'nly Rofalind!

[Exit.

SCENE

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

your father?

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

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'!

Duke, You.

Within these ten days if that thou be'ft found
So near our publick court as twenty miles,
Thou dieft for it.

Rof. I do befeech your Grace,

Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me:
If with my self I hold intelligence,
Or have acquaintance with my own defires,
If that I do not dream, or be not frantick,
As I do truft I am not; then, dear uncle,
Never fo much as in a thought unborn
Did I offend your Highness.

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.
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;
Then, good my Liege, mistake me not so much
To think my poverty is treacherous,

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;
It was your pleasure, and your own remorse;
I was too young that time to value her
But now I know her; if the be a traitor,
Why, fo am I; we still have slept together,
Rofe at an inftant, learn'd, play'd, eat together,
And wherefoe'er we went, like Juno's (wans
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 seem more virtuous
When the is gone; then open not thy lips:
Firm and irrevocable is my doom,

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.

อา

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.

Ref.

Rof. I have more cause.
Cel. Thou haft not, dearest coufin;
Pr'ythee, be cheerful; know'ft thou not the Duke
Has banish'd me his daughter?

Rof. That he hath not.

Cel. No? hath not? Rofalind lacks then the love
Which teacheth me that thou and I are one:
Shall we be fundred? fhall we part, sweet girl?
No, let my father feek another heir.
Therefore devife with me how we may fly,
Whither to go, and what to bear with us;
And do not feek to take your charge upon you,
To bear your griefs your felf, and leave me out:
For by this heav'n, now at our forrows pale,
Say what thou can'ft, I'll go along with thee.

Rof. Why, whither shall we go?

Cel. To feek my uncle in the foreft of Arden.
Rof. Alas, what danger will it be to us,
Maids as we are, to travel forth fo far!
Beauty provoketh thieves fooner than gold.

Cel. I'll put my felf in poor and mean attire,
And with a kind of umber smutch my face;
The like do you; so fhall we pass along,
And never ftir affailants.

Ref. Were't not better,

Because that I am more than common tall,
That I did fuit me all points like a man?
A gallant curtelax upon my thigh,
A boar--fpear in my hand, and (in my heart
Lye there what hidden woman's fear there will)
I'll have a swashing and a martial outfide,
As many other mannish cowards have,
That do outface it with their femblances.

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

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.
Leave me alone to woo him; let's away,
And get our jewels and our wealth together;
Devife the fittest time, and fafeft way
To hide us from pursuit that will be made
After my flight: now go we in content
To liberty, and not to banishment!

[Exeunt.

ACT II. SCENE

I.

A Foreft. Enter Duke Senior, Amiens, and two or three Lords like forefters.

Duke Sen.

OW, my co-mates, and brothers in exile,
Hath not old cuftom made this life more

fweet

NOW

Than that of painted pomp? are not these woods
More free from peril then the envious court?
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,
The season's difference; as, the icie phang,
And churlish chiding of the winter's wind,
Which when it bites and blows upon my body,
Even 'till I fhrink with cold, I fmile, and fay,
This is no flattery: these are counsellors
'That feelingly perfuade me what I am.
Sweet are the uses of adverfity,
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,
Sermons in ftones, and good in every thing.

Ami. I would not change it; happy is your Grace
That can tranflate the ftubbornnefs of fortune
Into fo quiet and fo fweet a ftyle.

Duke Sen. Come, fhall we go and kill us venifon?
And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools,
Being native burghers of this defart city,
Should, in their own confines, with forked heads
Have their round haunches goar'd.

x Lord. Indeed, my Lord,

The