As You Like It

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Original text
Act I, Scene I
Enter Orlando and Adam.

Orlando.
As I remember Adam, it was vpon this fashion
bequeathed me by will, but poore a thousand Crownes, and
as thou saist, charged my brother on his blessing to
breed mee well: and there begins my sadnesse: My
brother Iaques he keepes at schoole, and report speakes
goldenly of his profit: for my part, he keepes me rustically
at home, or (to speak more properly) staies me heere at
home vnkept: for call you that keeping for a gentleman
of my birth, that differs not from the stalling of an
Oxe? his horses are bred better, for besides that they
are faire with their feeding, they are taught their mannage,
and to that end Riders deerely hir'd: but I (his brother)
gaine nothing vnder him but growth, for the which his
Animals on his dunghils are as much bound to him as I:
besides this nothing that he so plentifully giues me, the
something that nature gaue mee, his countenance seemes
to take from me: hee lets mee feede with his Hindes, barres mee
the place of a brother, and as much as in him lies, mines
my gentility with my education. This is it Adam that
grieues me, and the spirit of my Father, which I thinke is
within mee, begins to mutinie against this seruitude. I will
no longer endure it, though yet I know no wise remedy
how to auoid it.
Enter Oliuer.

Adam.
Yonder comes my Master, your brother.

Orlan.
Goe a-part Adam, and thou shalt heare how he
will shake me vp.

Oli.
Now Sir, what make you heere?

Orl.
Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing.

Oli.
What mar you then sir?

Orl.
Marry sir, I am helping you to mar that which
God made, a poore vnworthy brother of yours with
idlenesse.

Oliuer.
Marry sir be better employed, and be naught a
while.

Orlan.
Shall I keepe your hogs, and eat huskes with them?
what prodigall portion haue I spent, that I should come
to such penury?

Oli.
Know you where you are sir?

Orl.
O sir, very well: heere in your Orchard.

Oli.
Know you before whom sir?

Orl.
I, better then him I am before knowes mee: I
know you are my eldest brother, and in the gentle
condition of bloud you should so know me: the courtesie
of nations allowes you my better, in that you are the first
borne, but the same tradition takes not away my bloud,
were there twenty brothers betwixt vs: I haue as much
of my father in mee, as you, albeit I confesse your comming
before me is neerer to his reuerence.

Oli.
What Boy.

Orl.
Come, come elder
brother, you are too yong in this.

Oli.
Wilt thou lay hands on me villaine?

Orl.
I am no villaine: I am the yongest sonne of Sir
Rowland de Boys, he was my father, and he is thrice a
villaine that saies such a father begot villaines: wert thou
not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy
throat, till this other had puld out thy tongue for saying
so, thou hast raild on thy selfe.

Adam.
Sweet Masters bee patient, for
your Fathers remembrance, be at accord.

Oli.
Let me goe I say.

Orl.
I will not till I please: you shall heare mee: my
father charg'd you in his will to giue me good education:
you haue train'd me like a pezant, obscuring and hiding
from me all gentleman-like qualities: the spirit of my
father growes strong in mee, and I will no longer endure it:
therefore allow me such exercises as may become a
gentleman, or giue mee the poore allottery my father left
me by testament, with that I will goe buy my fortunes.

Oli.
And what wilt thou do? beg when that is spent?
Well sir, get you in. I will not long be troubled with
you: you shall haue some part of your will, I pray you
leaue me.

Orl.
I will no further offend you, then becomes mee
for my good.

Oli.
Get you with him, you olde dogge.

Adam.
Is old dogge my reward: most true, I haue lost my
teeth in your seruice: God be with my olde master, he
would not haue spoke such a word.
Ex. Orl. Ad.

Oli.
Is it euen so, begin you to grow vpon me? I will
physicke your ranckenesse, and yet giue no thousand crownes
neyther: holla Dennis.
Enter Dennis.

Den.
Calls your worship?

Oli.
Was not Charles the Dukes Wrastler heere to
speake with me?

Den.
So please you, he is heere at the doore, and
importunes accesse to you.

Oli.
Call him in:
'twill be a good way: and to morrow the wrastling is.
Enter Charles.

Cha.
Good morrow to your worship.

Oli.
Good Mounsier Charles: what's the new newes at
the new Court?

Charles.
There's no newes at the Court Sir, but the olde
newes: that is, the old Duke is banished by his yonger
brother the new Duke, and three or foure louing Lords
haue put themselues into voluntary exile with him,
whose lands and reuenues enrich the new Duke, therefore
he giues them good leaue to wander.

Oli.
Can you tell if Rosalind the Dukes daughter bee
banished with her Father?

Cha.
O no; for the Dukes daughter her Cosen so
loues her, being euer from their Cradles bred together,
that hee would haue followed her exile, or haue died to
stay behind her; she is at the Court, and no lesse beloued
of her Vncle, then his owne daughter, and neuer two Ladies
loued as they doe.

Oli.
Where will the old Duke liue?

Cha.
They say hee is already in the Forrest of Arden,
and a many merry men with him; and there they liue
like the old Robin Hood of England: they say many
yong Gentlemen flocke to him euery day, and fleet the
time carelesly as they did in the golden world.

Oli.
What, you wrastle to morrow before the new
Duke.

Cha.
Marry doe I sir: and I came to acquaint you
with a matter: I am giuen sir secretly to vnderstand,
that your yonger brother Orlando hath a disposition
to come in disguis'd against mee to try a fall: to morrow
sir I wrastle for my credit, and hee that escapes me
without some broken limbe, shall acquit him well: your
brother is but young and tender, and for your loue I
would bee loth to foyle him, as I must for my owne honour
if hee come in: therefore out of my loue to you, I came
hither to acquaint you withall, that either you might
stay him from his intendment, or brooke such disgrace
well as he shall runne into, in that it is a thing of his owne
search, and altogether against my will.

Oli.
Charles, I thanke thee for thy loue to me, which
thou shalt finde I will most kindly requite: I had my selfe
notice of my Brothers purpose heerein, and haue by
vnder-hand meanes laboured to disswade him from it;
but he is resolute. Ile tell thee Charles, it is the stubbornest
yong fellow of France, full of ambition, an
enuious emulator of euery mans good parts, a secret &
villanous contriuer against mee his naturall brother:
therefore vse thy discretion, I had as liefe thou didst
breake his necke as his finger. And thou wert best looke
to't; for if thou dost him any slight disgrace, or if hee
doe not mightilie grace himselfe on thee, hee will practise
against thee by poyson, entrap thee by some treacherous
deuise, and neuer leaue thee till he hath tane thy life
by some indirect meanes or other: for I assure thee,
(and almost with teares I speake it) there is not one so
young, and so villanous this day liuing. I speake but
brotherly of him, but should I anathomize him to thee,
as hee is, I must blush, and weepe, and thou must looke
pale and wonder.

Cha.
I am heartily glad I came hither to you: if hee
come to morrow, Ile giue him his payment: if euer hee goe
alone againe, Ile neuer wrastle for prize more: and so
God keepe your worship.
Exit.
Farewell good Charles. Now will I stirre this
Gamester: I hope I shall see an end of him; for my soule
(yet I know not why) hates nothing more then he: yet
hee's gentle, neuer school'd, and yet learned, full of
noble deuise, of all sorts enchantingly beloued, and
indeed so much in the heart of the world, and especially
of my owne people, who best know him, that I am
altogether misprised: but it shall not be so long, this
wrastler shall cleare all: nothing remaines, but that I
kindle the boy thither, which now Ile goe about.
Exit.
Original text
Act I, Scene II
Enter Rosalind, and Cellia.

Cel.
I pray thee Rosalind, sweet my Coz, be merry.

Ros.
Deere Cellia; I show more mirth then I am
mistresse of, and would you yet were merrier: vnlesse
you could teach me to forget a banished father, you
must not learne mee how to remember any extraordinary
pleasure.

Cel.
Heerein I see thou lou'st mee not with the full waight
that I loue thee; if my Vncle thy banished father had
banished thy Vncle the Duke my Father, so thou hadst
beene still with mee, I could haue taught my loue to take
thy father for mine; so wouldst thou, if the truth of
thy loue to me were so righteously temper'd, as mine is
to thee.

Ros.
Well, I will forget the condition of my estate,
to reioyce in yours.

Cel.
You know my Father hath no childe, but I, nor none
is like to haue; and truely when he dies, thou shalt be his
heire; for what hee hath taken away from thy father perforce,
I will render thee againe in affection: by mine
honor I will, and when I breake that oath, let mee turne
monster: therefore my sweet Rose, my deare Rose,
be merry.

Ros.
From henceforth I will Coz, and deuise sports:
let me see, what thinke you of falling in Loue?

Cel.
Marry I prethee doe, to make sport withall: but loue
no man in good earnest, nor no further in sport neyther,
then with safety of a pure blush, thou maist in honor
come off againe.

Ros.
What shall be our sport then?

Cel.
Let vs sit and mocke the good houswife Fortune
from her wheele, that her gifts may henceforth bee
bestowed equally.

Ros.
I would wee could doe so: for her benefits are
mightily misplaced, and the bountifull blinde woman doth
most mistake in her gifts to women.

Cel.
'Tis true, for those that she makes faire, she scarce
makes honest, & those that she makes honest, she
makes very illfauouredly.

Ros.
Nay now thou goest from Fortunes office
to Natures: Fortune reignes in gifts of the world, not in
the lineaments of Nature.
Enter Clowne.

Cel.
No; when Nature hath made a faire creature, may
she not by Fortune fall into the fire? though nature
hath giuen vs wit to flout at Fortune, hath not Fortune
sent in this foole to cut off the argument?

Ros.
Indeed there is fortune too hard for nature,
when fortune makes natures naturall, the cutter off of
natures witte.

Cel.
Peraduenture this is not Fortunes work neither,
but Natures, who perceiueth our naturall wits too dull
to reason of such goddesses, hath sent this Naturall
for our whetstone. for alwaies the dulnesse of the foole, is
the whetstone of the wits. How now Witte, whether
wander you?

Clow.
Mistresse, you must come away to your
farher.

Cel.
Were you made the messenger?

Clo.
No by mine honor, but I was bid to
come for you

Ros.
Where learned you that oath foole?

Clo.
Of a certaine Knight, that swore by his
Honour they were good Pan-cakes, and swore by his
Honor the Mustard was naught: Now Ile stand to it,
the Pancakes were naught, and the Mustard was good,
and yet was not the Knight forsworne.

Cel.
How proue you that in the great heape of your
knowledge?

Ros.
I marry, now vnmuzzle your wisedome.

Clo.
Stand you both forth now: stroke your
chinnes, and sweare by your beards that I am a knaue.

Cel.
By our beards (if we had them) thou art.

Clo.
By my knauerie (if I had it) then I were:
but if you sweare by that that is not, you are not forsworn:
no more was this knight swearing by his Honor, for
he neuer had anie; or if he had, he had sworne it away,
before euer he saw those Pancakes, or that Mustard.

Cel.
Prethee, who is't that thou means't?

Clo.
One that old Fredericke your Father loues.

Ros.
My Fathers loue is enough to honor him enough;
speake no more of him, you'l be whipt for taxation
one of these daies.

Clo.
The more pittie that fooles may not speak
wisely, what Wisemen do foolishly.

Cel.
By my troth thou saiest true: For, since the little
wit that fooles haue was silenced, the little foolerie that
wise men haue makes a great shew; Heere comes Monsieur
the Beu.
Enter le Beau.

Ros.
With his mouth full of newes.

Cel.
Which he will put on vs, as Pigeons feed their
young.

Ros.
Then shal we be newes-cram'd.

Cel.
All the better: we shalbe the more Marketable.
Boon-iour Monsieur le Beu, what's the newes?

Le Ben.
Faire Princesse, you haue lost much good sport.

Cel.
Sport: of what colour?

Le Beu.
What colour Madame? How shall I aunswer you?

Ros.
As wit and fortune will.

Clo.
Or as the destinies decrees.

Cel.
Well said, that was laid on with a trowell.

Clo.
Nay, if I keepe not my ranke.

Ros.
Thou loosest thy old smell.

Le Beu.
You amaze me Ladies: I would haue told you of
good wrastling, which you haue lost the sight of.

Ros.
Yet tell vs the manner of the Wrastling.

Le Beu.
I wil tell you the beginning: and if it please
your Ladiships, you may see the end, for the best is yet
to doe, and heere where you are, they are comming to
performe it.

Cel.
Well, the beginning that is dead and buried.

Le Beu.
There comes an old man, and his three sons.

Cel.
I could match this beginning with an old tale.

Le Beu.
Three proper yong men, of excellent growth
and presence.

Ros.
With bils on their neckes: Be it knowne vnto
all men by these presents.

Le Beu.
The eldest of the three, wrastled with Charles
the Dukes Wrastler, which Charles in a moment threw
him, and broke three of his ribbes, that there is little hope
of life in him: So he seru'd the second, and so thethird:
yonder they lie, the poore old man their Father, making
such pittiful dole ouer them, that all the beholders take
his part with weeping.

Ros.
Alas.

Clo.
But what is the sport Monsieur, that the
Ladies haue lost?

Le Beu.
Why this that I speake of.

Clo.
Thus men may grow wiser euery day. It is
the first time that euer I heard breaking of ribbes was sport
for Ladies.

Cel.
Or I, I promise thee.

Ros.
But is there any else longs to see this broken
Musicke in his sides? Is there yet another doates vpon
rib-breaking? Shall we see this wrastling Cosin?

Le Beu.
You must if you stay heere, for heere is the place
appointed for the wrastling, and they are ready to performe
it.

Cel.
Yonder sure they are comming. Let vs now stay
and see it.
Flourish. Enter Duke, Lords, Orlando,
Charles, and Attendants.

Duke.
Come on, since the youth will not be intreated / His
owne perill on his forwardnesse.

Ros.
Is yonder the man??

Le Beu.
Euen he, Madam.

Cel.
Alas, he is too yong: yet he looks successefully

Du.
How now daughter, and Cousin: / Are you crept
hither to see the wrastling?

Ros.
I my Liege, so please you giue vs leaue.

Du.
You wil take little delight in it, I can tell you there
is such oddes in the man: In pitie of the challengers
youth, I would faine disswade him, but he will not bee
entreated. Speake to him Ladies, see if you can mooue him.

Cel.
Call him hether good Monsieuer Le Beu.

Duke.
Do so: Ile not be by.

Le Beu.
Monsieur the Challenger, the Princesse cals for
you.

Orl.
I attend them with all respect and dutie.

Ros.
Young man, haue you challeng'd Charles the
Wrastler?

Orl.
No faire Princesse: he is the generall challenger,
I come but in as others do, to try with him the strength
of my youth.

Cel.
Yong Gentleman, your spirits are too bold for
your yeares: you haue seene cruell proofe of this mans
strength, if you saw your selfe with your eies, or knew
your selfe with your iudgment, the feare of your aduenture
would counsel you to a more equall enterprise. We pray
you for your owne sake to embrace your own safetie, and
giue ouer this attempt.

Ros.
Do yong Sir, your reputation shall not therefore
be misprised: we wil make it our suite to the Duke,
that the wrastling might not go forward.

Orl.
I beseech you, punish mee not with your harde
thoughts, wherein I confesse me much guiltie to denie so
faire and excellent Ladies anie thing. But let your faire eies,
and gentle wishes go with mee to my triall; wherein if I bee
foil'd, there is but one sham'd that was neuer gracious:
if kil'd, but one dead that is willing to be so: I shall do
my friends no wrong, for I haue none to lament me: the
world no iniurie, for in it I haue nothing: onely in the
world I fil vp a place, which may bee better supplied,
when I haue made it emptie.

Ros.
The little strength that I haue, I would it were
with you.

Cel.
And mine to eeke out hers.

Ros.
Fare you well: praie heauen I be deceiu'd in
you.

Cel.
Your hearts desires be with you.

Char.
Come, where is this yong gallant, that is so
desirous to lie with his mother earth?

Orl.
Readie Sir, but his will hath in it a more
modest working.

Duk.
You shall trie but one fall.

Cha.
No, I warrant your Grace you shall not entreat
him to a second, that haue so mightilie perswaded him
from a first.

Orl.
You meane to mocke me after: you should not
haue mockt me before: but come your waies.

Ros.
Now Hercules, be thy speede yong man.

Cel.
I would I were inuisible, to catch the strong fellow
by the legge.
Wrastle.

Ros.
Oh excellent yong man.

Cel.
If I had a thunderbolt in mine eie, I can tell who
should downe.
Shout.

Duk.
No more, no more.

Orl.
Yes I beseech your Grace, I am not yet well
breath'd.

Duk.
How do'st thou Charles?

Le Beu.
He cannot speake my Lord.

Duk.
Beare him awaie:
What is thy name yong man?

Orl.
Orlando my Liege, the yongest sonne of Sir
Roland de Boys.

Duk.
I would thou hadst beene son to some man else,
The world esteem'd thy father honourable,
But I did finde him still mine enemie:
Thou should'st haue better pleas'd me with this deede,
Hadst thou descended from another house:
But fare thee well, thou art a gallant youth,
I would thou had'st told me of another Father.
Exit Duke.

Cel.
Were I my Father (Coze) would I do this?

Orl.
I am more proud to be Sir Rolands sonne,
His yongest sonne, and would not change that calling
To be adopted heire to Fredricke.

Ros.
My Father lou'd Sir Roland as his soule,
And all the world was of my Fathers minde,
Had I before knowne this yong man his sonne,
I should haue giuen him teares vnto entreaties,
Ere he should thus haue ventur'd.

Cel.
Gentle Cosen,
Let vs goe thanke him, and encourage him:
My Fathers rough and enuious disposition
Sticks me at heart: Sir, you haue well deseru'd,
If you doe keepe your promises in loue;
But iustly as you haue exceeded all promise,
Your Mistris shall be happie.

Ros.
Gentleman,
Weare this for me: one out of suites with fortune
That could giue more, but that her hand lacks meanes.
Shall we goe Coze?

Cel.
I: fare you well faire Gentleman.

Orl.
Can I not say, I thanke you? My better parts
Are all throwne downe, and that which here stands vp
Is but a quintine, a meere liuelesse blocke.

Ros.
He cals vs back: my pride fell with my fortunes,
Ile aske him what he would: Did you call Sir?
Sir, you haue wrastled well, and ouerthrowne
More then your enemies.

Cel.
Will you goe Coze?

Ros.
Haue with you: fare you well.
Exit.

Orl.
What passion hangs these waights vpõ my toong?
I cannot speake to her, yet she vrg'd conference.
Enter Le Beu.
O poore Orlando! thou art ouerthrowne
Or Charles, or something weaker masters thee.

Le Beu.
Good Sir, I do in friendship counsaile you
To leaue this place; Albeit you haue deseru'd
High commendation, true applause, and loue;
Yet such is now the Dukes condition,
That he misconsters all that you haue done:
The Duke is humorous, what he is indeede
More suites you to conceiue, then I to speake of.

Orl.
I thanke you Sir; and pray you tell me this,
Which of the two was daughter of the Duke,
That here was at the Wrastling?

Le Beu.
Neither his daughter, if we iudge by manners,
But yet indeede the taller is his daughter,
The other is daughter to the banish'd Duke,
And here detain'd by her vsurping Vncle
To keepe his daughter companie, whose loues
Are deerer then the naturall bond of Sisters:
But I can tell you, that of late this Duke
Hath tane displeasure 'gainst his gentle Neece,
Grounded vpon no other argument,
But that the people praise her for her vertues,
And pittie her, for her good Fathers sake;
And on my life his malice 'gainst the Lady
Will sodainly breake forth: Sir, fare you well,
Hereafter in a better world then this,
I shall desire more loue and knowledge of you.

Orl.
I rest much bounden to you: fare you well.
Thus must I from the smoake into the smother,
From tyrant Duke, vnto a tyrant Brother.
But heauenly Rosaline.
Exit
Original text
Act I, Scene III
Enter Celia and Rosaline.

Cel.
Why Cosen, why Rosaline: Cupid haue mercie,
Not a word?

Ros.
Not one to throw at a dog.

Cel.
No, thy words are too precious to be cast away
vpon curs, throw some of them at me; come lame mee
with reasons.

Ros.
Then there were two Cosens laid vp, when the
one should be lam'd with reasons, and the other mad
without any.

Cel.
But is all this for your Father?

Ros.
No, some of it is for my childes Father: Oh
how full of briers is this working day world.

Cel.
They are but burs, Cosen, throwne vpon thee in
holiday foolerie, if we walke not in the trodden paths
our very petty-coates will catch them.

Ros.
I could shake them off my coate, these burs are
in my heart.

Cel.
Hem them away.

Ros.
I would try if I could cry hem, and haue
him.

Cel.
Come, come, wrastle with thy affections.

Ros.
O they take the part of a better wrastler then
my selfe.

Cel.
O, a good wish vpon you: you will trie in time in
dispight of a fall: but turning these iests out of seruice,
let vs talke in good earnest: Is it possible on such a sodaine,
you should fall into so strong a liking with old Sir
Roulands yongest sonne?

Ros.
The Duke my Father lou'd his Father deerelie.

Cel.
Doth it therefore ensue that you should loue his
Sonne deerelie? By this kinde of chase, I should hate him,
for my father hated his father deerely; yet I hate not
Orlando.

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

Cel.
Why should I not? doth he not deserue well?
Enter Duke with Lords.

Ros.
Let me loue him for that, and do you loue him
Because I doe. Looke, here comes the Duke.

Cel.
With his eies full of anger.

Duk.
Mistris, dispatch you with your safest haste,
And get you from our Court.

Ros.
Me Vncle.

Duk
You Cosen,
Within these ten daies if that thou beest found
So neere our publike Court as twentie miles,
Thou diest for it.

Ros.
I doe beseech your Grace
Let me the knowledge of my fault beare with me:
If with my selfe I hold intelligence,
Or haue acquaintance with mine owne desires,
If that I doe not dreame, or be not franticke,
(As I doe trust I am not) then deere Vncle,
Neuer so much as in a thought vnborne,
Did I offend your highnesse.

Duk.
Thus doe all Traitors,
If their purgation did consist in words,
They are as innocent as grace it selfe;
Let it suffice thee that I trust thee not.

Ros.
Yet your mistrust cannot make me a Traitor;
Tell me whereon the likelihoods depends?

Duk.
Thou art thy Fathers daughter, there's enough.

Ros.
So was I when your highnes took his Dukdome,
So was I when your highnesse banisht him;
Treason is not inherited my Lord,
Or if we did deriue it from our friends,
What's that to me, my Father was no Traitor,
Then good my Leige, mistake me not so much,
To thinke my pouertie is treacherous.

Cel.
Deere Soueraigne heare me speake.

Duk.
I Celia, we staid her for your sake,
Else had she with her Father rang'd along.

Cel.
I did not then intreat to haue her stay,
It was your pleasure, and your owne remorse,
I was too yong that time to value her,
But now I know her: if she be a Traitor,
Why so am I: we still haue slept together,
Rose at an instant, learn'd, plaid, eate together,
And wheresoere we went, like Iunos Swans,
Still we went coupled and inseperable.

Duk.
She is too subtile for thee, and her smoothnes;
Her verie silence, and per patience,
Speake to the people, and they pittie her:
Thou art a foole, she robs thee of thy name,
And thou wilt show more bright, & seem more vertuous
When she is gone: then open not thy lips
Firme, and irreuocable is my doombe,
Which I haue past vpon her, she is banish'd.

Cel.
Pronounce that sentence then on me my Leige,
I cannot liue out of her companie.

Duk.
You are a foole: you Neice prouide your selfe,
If you out-stay the time, vpon mine honor,
And in the greatnesse of my word you die.
Exit Duke, &c.

Cel.
O my poore Rosaline, whether wilt thou goe?
Wilt thou change Fathers? I will giue thee mine:
I charge thee be not thou more grieu'd then I am.

Ros.
I haue more cause.

Cel.
Thou hast not Cosen,
Prethee be cheerefull; know'st thou not the Duke
Hath banish'd me his daughter?

Ros.
That he hath not.

Cel.
No, hath not? Rosaline lacks then the loue
Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one,
Shall we be sundred? shall we part sweete girle?
No, let my Father seeke another heire:
Therefore deuise with me how we may flie
Whether to goe, and what to beare with vs,
And doe not seeke to take your change vpon you,
To beare your griefes your selfe, and leaue me out:
For by this heauen, now at our sorrowes pale;
Say what thou canst, Ile goe along with thee.

Ros.
Why, whether shall we goe?

Cel.
To seeke my Vncle in the Forrest of Arden.

Ros.
Alas, what danger will it be to vs,
(Maides as we are) to trauell forth so farre?
Beautie prouoketh theeues sooner then gold.

Cel.
Ile put my selfe in poore and meane attire,
And with a kinde of vmber smirch my face,
The like doe you, so shall we passe along,
And neuer stir assailants.

Ros.
Were it not better,
Because that I am more then common tall,
That I did suite me all points like a man,
A gallant curtelax vpon my thigh,
A bore-speare in my hand, and in my heart
Lye there what hidden womans feare there will,
Weele haue a swashing and a marshall outside,
As manie other mannish cowards haue,
That doe outface it with their semblances.

Cel.
What shall I call thee when thou art a man?

Ros.
Ile haue no worse a name then Ioues owne Page,
And therefore looke 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.

Ros.
But Cosen, what if we assaid to steale
The clownish Foole out of your Fathers Court:
Would he not be a comfort to our trauaile?

Cel.
Heele goe along ore the wide world with me,
Leaue me alone to woe him; Let's away
And get our Iewels and our wealth together,
Deuise the fittest time, and safest way
To hide vs from pursuite that will be made
After my flight: now goe in we content
To libertie, and not to banishment.
Exennt.
Modern text
Act I, Scene I
Enter Orlando and Adam

ORLANDO
As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion
bequeathed me by will, but poor a thousand crowns, and,
as thou sayest, charged my brother on his blessing to
breed me well; and there begins my sadness. My
brother Jaques he keeps at school, and report speaks
goldenly of his profit: for my part, he keeps me rustically
at home, or, to speak more properly, stays me here at
home unkept – for call you that ‘ keeping ’ for a gentleman
of my birth, that differs not from the stalling of an
ox? His horses are bred better, for, besides that they
are fair with their feeding, they are taught their manage,
and to that end riders dearly hired; but I, his brother,
gain nothing under him but growth, for the which his
animals on his dunghills are as much bound to him as I.
Besides this nothing that he so plentifully gives me, the
something that nature gave me his countenance seems
to take from me: he lets me feed with his hinds, bars me
the place of a brother, and, as much as in him lies, mines
my gentility with my education. This is it, Adam, that
grieves me, and the spirit of my father, which I think is
within me, begins to mutiny against this servitude. I will
no longer endure it, though yet I know no wise remedy
how to avoid it.
Enter Oliver

ADAM
Yonder comes my master, your brother.

ORLANDO
Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he
will shake me up.
Adam stands aside

OLIVER
Now, sir, what make you here?

ORLANDO
Nothing: I am not taught to make anything.

OLIVER
What mar you then, sir?

ORLANDO
Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that which
God made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, with
idleness.

OLIVER
Marry, sir, be better employed, and be naught a
while.

ORLANDO
Shall I keep your hogs and eat husks with them?
What prodigal portion have I spent, that I should come
to such penury?

OLIVER
Know you where your are, sir?

ORLANDO
O, sir, very well: here in your orchard.

OLIVER
Know you before whom, sir?

ORLANDO
Ay, better than him I am before knows me: I
know you are my eldest brother, and in the gentle
condition of blood you should so know me. The courtesy
of nations allows you my better, in that you are the first
born, but the same tradition takes not away my blood,
were there twenty brothers betwixt us: I have as much
of my father in me as you, albeit I confess your coming
before me is nearer to his reverence.

OLIVER
(threatening him)
What, boy!

ORLANDO
(seizing him by the throat)
Come, come, elder
brother, you are too young in this.

OLIVER
Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain?

ORLANDO
I am no villain: I am the youngest son of Sir
Rowland de Boys; he was my father, and he is thrice a
villain that says such a father begot villains. Wert thou
not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy
throat till this other had pulled out thy tongue for saying
so; thou hast railed on thyself.

ADAM
(coming forward)
Sweet masters, be patient; for
your father's remembrance, be at accord.

OLIVER
Let me go, I say.

ORLANDO
I will not till I please: you shall hear me. My
father charged you in his will to give me good education:
you have trained me like a peasant, obscuring and hiding
from me all gentleman-like qualities. The spirit of my
father grows strong in me, and I will no longer endure it.
Therefore allow me such exercises as may become a
gentleman, or give me the poor allottery my father left
me by testament; with that I will go buy my fortunes.

OLIVER
And what wilt thou do, beg when that is spent?
Well, sir, get you in. I will not long be troubled with
you: you shall have some part of your will. I pray you,
leave me.

ORLANDO
I will no further offend you than becomes me
for my good.

OLIVER
Get you with him, you old dog.

ADAM
Is ‘ old dog ’ my reward? Most true, I have lost my
teeth in your service. God be with my old master! He
would not have spoke such a word.
Exeunt Orlando and Adam

OLIVER
Is it even so? Begin you to grow upon me? I will
physic your rankness, and yet give no thousand crowns
neither. Holla, Dennis!
Enter Dennis

DENNIS
Calls your worship?

OLIVER
Was not Charles, the Duke's wrestler, here to
speak with me?

DENNIS
So please you, he is here at the door, and
importunes access to you.

OLIVER
Call him in.
Exit Dennis
'Twill be a good way – and tomorrow the wrestling is.
Enter Charles

CHARLES
Good morrow to your worship.

OLIVER
Good Monsieur Charles, what's the new news at
the new court?

CHARLES
There's no news at the court, sir, but the old
news: that is, the old Duke is banished by his younger
brother the new Duke, and three or four loving lords
have put themselves into voluntary exile with him,
whose lands and revenues enrich the new Duke; therefore
he gives them good leave to wander.

OLIVER
Can you tell if Rosalind, the Duke's daughter, be
banished with her father?

CHARLES
O, no; for the Duke's daughter, her cousin, so
loves her, being ever from their cradles bred together,
that she would have followed her exile, or have died to
stay behind her; she is at the court, and no less beloved
of her uncle than his own daughter, and never two ladies
loved as they do.

OLIVER
Where will the old Duke live?

CHARLES
They say he is already in the Forest of Arden,
and a many merry men with him; and there they live
like the old Robin Hood of England: they say many
young gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the
time carelessly as they did in the golden world.

OLIVER
What, you wrestle tomorrow before the new
Duke?

CHARLES
Marry do I, sir; and I came to acquaint you
with a matter. I am given, sir, secretly to understand
that your younger brother, Orlando, hath a disposition
to come in disguised against me to try a fall. Tomorrow,
sir, I wrestle for my credit, and he that escapes me
without some broken limb shall acquit him well. Your
brother is but young and tender, and for your love I
would be loath to foil him, as I must for my own honour
if he come in. Therefore, out of my love to you, I came
hither to acquaint you withal, that either you might
stay him from his intendment, or brook such disgrace
well as he shall run into, in that it is a thing of his own
search, and altogether against my will.

OLIVER
Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which
thou shalt find I will most kindly requite. I had myself
notice of my brother's purpose herein, and have by
underhand means laboured to dissuade him from it;
but he is resolute. I'll tell thee, Charles, it is the stubbornest
young fellow of France, full of ambition, an
envious emulator of every man's good parts, a secret and
villanous contriver against me his natural brother.
Therefore use thy discretion; I had as lief thou didst
break his neck as his finger. And thou wert best look
to't; for if thou dost him any slight disgrace, or if he
do not mightily grace himself on thee, he will practise
against thee by poison, entrap thee by some treacherous
device, and never leave thee till he hath ta'en thy life
by some indirect means or other: for, I assure thee –
and almost with tears I speak it – there is not one so
young and so villainous this day living. I speak but
brotherly of him, but should I anatomize him to thee
as he is, I must blush and weep, and thou must look
pale and wonder.

CHARLES
I am heartily glad I came hither to you. If he
come tomorrow, I'll give him his payment: if ever he go
alone again, I'll never wrestle for prize more. And so
God keep your worship!
Exit

OLIVER
Farewell, good Charles. Now will I stir this
gamester. I hope I shall see an end of him, for my soul –
yet I know not why – hates nothing more than he. Yet
he's gentle, never schooled and yet learned, full of
noble device, of all sorts enchantingly beloved, and
indeed so much in the heart of the world, and especially
of my own people, who best know him, that I am
altogether misprized. But it shall not be so long; this
wrestler shall clear all. Nothing remains but that I
kindle the boy thither, which now I'll go about.
Exit
Modern text
Act I, Scene II
Enter Rosalind and Celia

CELIA
I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be merry.

ROSALIND
Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am
mistress of, and would you yet were merrier. Unless
you could teach me to forget a banished father, you
must not learn me how to remember any extraordinary
pleasure.

CELIA
Herein I see thou lovest me not with the full weight
that I love thee. If my uncle, thy banished father, had
banished thy uncle, the Duke my father, so thou hadst
been still with me, I could have taught my love to take
thy father for mine; so wouldst thou, if the truth of
thy love to me were so righteously tempered as mine is
to thee.

ROSALIND
Well, I will forget the condition of my estate,
to rejoice in yours.

CELIA
You know my father hath no child but I, nor none
is like to have; and truly, when he dies, thou shalt be his
heir: for what he hath taken away from thy father perforce,
I will render thee again in affection, by mine
honour I will, and when I break that oath, let me turn
monster. Therefore, my sweet Rose, my dear Rose,
be merry.

ROSALIND
From henceforth I will, coz, and devise sports.
Let me see – what think you of falling in love?

CELIA
Marry, I prithee do, to make sport withal; but love
no man in good earnest, nor no further in sport neither,
than with safety of a pure blush thou mayst in honour
come off again.

ROSALIND
What shall be our sport then?

CELIA
Let us sit and mock the good housewife Fortune
from her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be
bestowed equally.

ROSALIND
I would we could do so; for her benefits are
mightily misplaced, and the bountiful blind woman doth
most mistake in her gifts to women.

CELIA
'Tis true, for those that she makes fair she scarce
makes honest, and those that she makes honest she
makes very ill-favouredly.

ROSALIND
Nay, now thou goest from Fortune's office
to Nature's: Fortune reigns in gifts of the world, not in
the lineaments of Nature.
Enter Touchstone

CELIA
No; when Nature hath made a fair creature, may
she not by Fortune fall into the fire? Though Nature
hath given us wit to flout at Fortune, hath not Fortune
sent in this fool to cut off the argument?

ROSALIND
Indeed, there is Fortune too hard for Nature,
when Fortune makes Nature's natural the cutter-off of
Nature's wit.

CELIA
Peradventure this is not Fortune's work neither,
but Nature's, who perceiveth our natural wits too dull
to reason of such goddesses and hath sent this natural
for our whetstone: for always the dullness of of the fool is
the whetstone of the wits. How now, wit, whither
wander you?

TOUCHSTONE
Mistress, you must come away to your
father.

CELIA
Were you made the messenger?

TOUCHSTONE
No, by mine honour, but I was bid to
come for you.

ROSALIND
Where learned you that oath, fool?

TOUCHSTONE
Of a certain knight that swore by his
honour they were good pancakes and swore by his
honour the mustard was naught: now I'll stand to it
the pancakes were naught and the mustard was good,
and yet was not the knight forsworn.

CELIA
How prove you that, in the great heap of your
knowledge?

ROSALIND
Ay, marry, now unmuzzle your wisdom.

TOUCHSTONE
Stand you both forth now: stroke your
chins and swear by your beards that I am a knave.

CELIA
By our beards – if we had them – thou art.

TOUCHSTONE
By my knavery – if I had it – then I were;
but if you swear by that that is not, you are not forsworn:
no more was this knight, swearing by his honour, for
he never had any; or if he had, he had sworn it away
before ever he saw those pancakes or that mustard.

CELIA
Prithee, who is't that thou meanest?

TOUCHSTONE
One that old Frederick, your father, loves.

CELIA
My father's love is enough to honour him enough.
Speak no more of him; you'll be whipped for taxation
one of these days.

TOUCHSTONE
The more pity that fools may not speak
wisely what wise men do foolishly.

CELIA
By my troth, thou sayest true: for since the little
wit that fools have was silenced, the little foolery that
wise men have makes a great show. Here comes Monsieur
the Beu.
Enter Le Beau

ROSALIND
With his mouth full of news.

CELIA
Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their
young.

ROSALIND
Then shall we be news-crammed.

CELIA
All the better: we shall be the more marketable.
Bon jour, Monsieur Le Beau, what's the news?

LE BEAU
Fair princess, you have lost much good sport.

CELIA
Sport? Of what colour?

LE BEAU
What colour, madam? How shall I answer you?

ROSALIND
As wit and fortune will.

TOUCHSTONE
Or as the Destinies decrees.

CELIA
Well said, that was laid on with a trowel.

TOUCHSTONE
Nay, if I keep not my rank –

ROSALIND
Thou losest thy old smell.

LE BEAU
You amaze me, ladies. I would have told you of
good wrestling, which you have lost the sight of.

ROSALIND
Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling.

LE BEAU
I will tell you the beginning; and, if it please
your ladyships, you may see the end, for the best is yet
to do, and here, where you are, they are coming to
perform it.

CELIA
Well, the beginning that is dead and buried.

LE BEAU
There comes an old man and his three sons –

CELIA
I could match this beginning with an old tale.

LE BEAU
Three proper young men, of excellent growth
and presence –

ROSALIND
With bills on their necks: ‘Be it known unto
all men by these presents'.

LE BEAU
The eldest of the three wrestled with Charles,
the Duke's wrestler, which Charles in a moment threw
him, and broke three of his ribs, that there is little hope
of life in him. So he served the second, and so the third.
Yonder they lie, the poor old man their father making
such pitiful dole over them that all the beholders take
his part with weeping.

ROSALIND
Alas!

TOUCHSTONE
But what is the sport, Monsieur, that the
ladies have lost?

LE BEAU
Why, this that I speak of.

TOUCHSTONE
Thus men may grow wiser every day. It is
the first time that ever I heard breaking of ribs was sport
for ladies.

CELIA
Or I, I promise thee.

ROSALIND
But is there any else longs to see this broken
music in his sides? Is there yet another dotes upon
rib-breaking? Shall we see this wrestling, cousin?

LE BEAU
You must if you stay here, for here is the place
appointed for the wrestling, and they are ready to perform
it.

CELIA
Yonder, sure, they are coming. Let us now stay
and see it.
Flourish. Enter Duke Frederick, Lords, Orlando,
Charles, and attendants

DUKE
Come on. Since the youth will not be entreated, his
own peril on his forwardness.

ROSALIND
Is yonder the man?

LE BEAU
Even he, madam.

CELIA
Alas, he is too young; yet he looks successfully.

DUKE
How now, daughter and cousin? Are you crept
hither to see the wrestling?

ROSALIND
Ay, my liege, so please you give us leave.

DUKE
You will take little delight in it, I can tell you, there
is such odds in the man. In pity of the challenger's
youth I would fain dissuade him, but he will not be
entreated. Speak to him, ladies, see if you can move him.

CELIA
Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau.

DUKE
Do so: I'll not be by.
He stands aside

LE BEAU
Monsieur the challenger, the princess calls for
you.

ORLANDO
I attend them with all respect and duty.

ROSALIND
Young man, have you challenged Charles the
wrestler?

ORLANDO
No, fair Princess. He is the general challenger;
I come but in as others do, to try with him the strength
of my youth.

CELIA
Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold for
your years. You have seen cruel proof of this man's
strength; if you saw yourself with your eyes, or knew
yourself with your judgement, the fear of your adventure
would counsel you to a more equal enterprise. We pray
you for your own sake to embrace your own safety, and
give over this attempt.

ROSALIND
Do, young sir, your reputation shall not therefore
be misprized: we will make it our suit to the Duke
that the wrestling might not go forward.

ORLANDO
I beseech you, punish me not with your hard
thoughts, wherein I confess me much guilty to deny so
fair and excellent ladies anything. But let your fair eyes
and gentle wishes go with me to my trial: wherein if I be
foiled, there is but one shamed that was never gracious;
if killed, but one dead that is willing to be so. I shall do
my friends no wrong, for I have none to lament me; the
world no injury, for in it I have nothing: only in the
world I fill up a place which may be better supplied
when I have made it empty.

ROSALIND
The little strength that I have, I would it were
with you.

CELIA
And mine, to eke out hers.

ROSALIND
Fare you well. Pray heaven, I be deceived in
you!

CELIA
Your heart's desires be with you!

CHARLES
Come, where is this young gallant that is so
desirous to lie with his mother earth?

ORLANDO
Ready, sir, but his will hath in it a more
modest working.

DUKE
You shall try but one fall.

CHARLES
No, I warrant your grace, you shall not entreat
him to a second, that have so mightily persuaded him
from a first.

ORLANDO
You mean to mock me after; you should not
have mocked me before. But come your ways!

ROSALIND
Now Hercules be thy speed, young man!

CELIA
I would I were invisible, to catch the strong fellow
by the leg.
Orlando and Charles wrestle

ROSALIND
O excellent young man!

CELIA
If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who
should down.
A shout as Charles is thrown

DUKE
(coming forward)
No more, no more.

ORLANDO
Yes, I beseech your grace, I am not yet well
breathed.

DUKE
How dost thou, Charles?

LE BEAU
He cannot speak, my lord.

DUKE
Bear him away.
Attendants carry Charles off
What is thy name, young man?

ORLANDO
Orlando, my liege; the youngest son of Sir
Rowland de Boys.

DUKE
I would thou hadst been son to some man else.
The world esteemed thy father honourable,
But I did find him still mine enemy.
Thou shouldst have better pleased me with this deed
Hadst thou descended from another house.
But fare thee well, thou art a gallant youth;
I would thou hadst told me of another father.
Exit Duke, with Lords, Le Beau, and Touchstone

CELIA
Were I my father, coz, would I do this?

ORLANDO
I am more proud to be Sir Rowland's son,
His youngest son, and would not change that calling
To be adopted heir to Frederick.

ROSALIND
My father loved Sir Rowland as his soul,
And all the world was of my father's mind.
Had I before known this young man his son,
I should have given him tears unto entreaties
Ere he should thus have ventured.

CELIA
Gentle cousin,
Let us go thank him, and encourage him.
My father's rough and envious disposition
Sticks me at heart. – Sir, you have well deserved.
If you do keep your promises in love
But justly as you have exceeded all promise,
Your mistress shall be happy.

ROSALIND
(taking a chain from her neck)
Gentleman,
Wear this for me – one out of suits with fortune,
That could give more but that her hand lacks means.
(to Celia) Shall we go, coz?

CELIA
Ay. Fare you well, fair gentleman.
Rosalind and Celia begin to withdraw

ORLANDO
Can I not say ‘ I thank you ’? My better parts
Are all thrown down, and that which here stands up
Is but a quintain, a mere lifeless block.

ROSALIND
He calls us back. My pride fell with my fortunes:
I'll ask him what he would. – Did you call, sir?
Sir, you have wrestled well, and overthrown
More than your enemies.

CELIA
Will you go, coz?

ROSALIND
Have with you. (To Orlando) Fare you well.
Exeunt Rosalind and Celia

ORLANDO
What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue?
I cannot speak to her, yet she urged conference.
Enter Le Beau
O poor Orlando, thou art overthrown!
Or Charles or something weaker masters thee.

LE BEAU
Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you
To leave this place. Albeit you have deserved
High commendation, true applause, and love,
Yet such is now the Duke's condition,
That he misconsters all that you have done.
The Duke is humorous – what he is, indeed,
More suits you to conceive than I to speak of.

ORLANDO
I thank you, sir; and pray you tell me this,
Which of the two was daughter of the Duke
That here was at the wrestling?

LE BEAU
Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners,
But yet indeed the taller is his daughter;
The other is daughter to the banished Duke,
And here detained by her usurping uncle
To keep his daughter company, whose loves
Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters.
But I can tell you that of late this Duke
Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece,
Grounded upon no other argument
But that the people praise her for her virtues
And pity her for her good father's sake;
And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady
Will suddenly break forth. Sir, fare you well;
Hereafter, in a better world than this,
I shall desire more love and knowledge of you.

ORLANDO
I rest much bounden to you: fare you well.
Exit Le Beau
Thus must I from the smoke into the smother,
From tyrant Duke unto a tyrant brother.
But heavenly Rosalind!
Exit
Modern text
Act I, Scene III
Enter Celia and Rosalind

CELIA
Why cousin, why Rosalind, Cupid have mercy,
not a word?

ROSALIND
Not one to throw at a dog.

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

ROSALIND
Then there were two cousins laid up, when the
one should be lamed with reasons, and the other mad
without any.

CELIA
But is all this for your father?

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

CELIA
They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee in
holiday foolery. If we walk not in the trodden paths,
our very petticoats will catch them.

ROSALIND
I could shake them off my coat; these burs are
in my heart.

CELIA
Hem them away.

ROSALIND
I would try, if I could cry ‘ hem ’ and have
him.

CELIA
Come, come, wrestle with thy affections.

ROSALIND
O, they take the part of a better wrestler than
myself.

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

ROSALIND
The Duke my father loved his father dearly.

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

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

CELIA
Why should I not? Doth he not deserve well?
Enter Duke, with Lords

ROSALIND
Let me love him for that, and do you love him
because I do. – Look, here comes the Duke.

CELIA
With his eyes full of anger.

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

ROSALIND
Me, uncle?

DUKE
You, cousin.
Within these ten days if that thou beest found
So near our public court as twenty miles,
Thou diest for it.

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

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

ROSALIND
Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor.
Tell me whereon the likelihood depends.

DUKE
Thou art thy father's daughter, there's enough.

ROSALIND
So was I when your highness took his dukedom,
So was I when your highness banished him.
Treason 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.

CELIA
Dear sovereign, hear me speak.

DUKE
Ay, Celia, we stayed her for your sake,
Else had she with her father ranged along.

CELIA
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 she be a traitor,
Why so am I: we still have slept together,
Rose at an instant, learned, played, eat together,
And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans
Still we went coupled and inseparable.

DUKE
She is too subtle for thee, and her smoothness,
Her very silence, and her patience
Speak to the people, and they pity her.
Thou art a fool; she robs thee of thy name,
And thou wilt show more bright and seem more virtuous
When she is gone. Then open not thy lips:
Firm and irrevocable is my doom
Which I have passed upon her; she is banished.

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

DUKE
You are a fool. – You, niece, provide yourself.
If you outstay the time, upon mine honour
And in the greatness of my word, you die.
Exit Duke, with Lords

CELIA
O my poor Rosalind, whither wilt thou go?
Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine.
I charge thee, be not thou more grieved than I am.

ROSALIND
I have more cause.

CELIA
Thou hast not, cousin.
Prithee, be cheerful; knowest thou not the Duke
Hath banished me, his daughter?

ROSALIND
That he hath not.

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

ROSALIND
Why, whither shall we go?

CELIA
To seek my uncle in the Forest of Arden.

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

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

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

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

ROSALIND
I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own page,
And therefore look you call me ‘ Ganymede.’
But what will you be called?

CELIA
Something that hath a reference to my state:
No longer ‘ Celia,’ but ‘ Aliena.’

ROSALIND
But, cousin, what if we assayed to steal
The clownish fool out of your father's court:
Would he not be a comfort to our travel?

CELIA
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,
Devise the fittest time and safest 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
SHAKESPEARE'S WORDS © 2018 DAVID CRYSTAL & BEN CRYSTAL