Act 1, Scene III

SCENE III. A room in the palace.

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 briers 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?

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.

Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with Lords

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

ROSALIND
Me, uncle?

DUKE FREDERICK
You, cousin
Within these ten days if that thou be'st 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 FREDERICK
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.