SCENE II. A lawn before the DUKE'S palace  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 I 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 lov'st 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 temper'd     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 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 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 pancackes or     that mustard.   CELIA. Prithee, who is't that thou mean'st?   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 whipt 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 Le Beau.                             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-cramm'd.   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 serv'd     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    FREDERICK. 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.   FREDERICK. How now, daughter and cousin! Are you crept hither to     see the wrestling?   ROSALIND. Ay, my liege; so please you give us leave.   FREDERICK. 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.   FREDERICK. Do so; I'll not be by.                                      [DUKE FREDERICK goes apart]   LE BEAU. Monsieur the Challenger, the Princess calls for you.   ORLANDO. I attend them with all respect and duty.   ROSALIND. Young man, have you challeng'd 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 judgment, 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     misprised: 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 any thing. But let your fair eyes and gentle wishes go     with me to my trial; wherein if I be foil'd there is but one     sham'd that was never gracious; if kill'd, 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 deceiv'd 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.   FREDERICK. 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 mock'd 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.                                          [They wrestle]   ROSALIND. O excellent young man!   CELIA. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who should     down.                                       [CHARLES is thrown. Shout]   FREDERICK. No more, no more.   ORLANDO. Yes, I beseech your Grace; I am not yet well breath'd.   FREDERICK. How dost thou, Charles?   LE BEAU. He cannot speak, my lord.   FREDERICK. Bear him away. What is thy name, young man?   ORLANDO. Orlando, my liege; the youngest son of Sir Rowland de     Boys.   FREDERICK. I would thou hadst been son to some man else.     The world esteem'd thy father honourable,     But I did find him still mine enemy.     Thou shouldst have better pleas'd 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.                                  Exeunt DUKE, train, and LE BEAU   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 lov'd 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 ventur'd.   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 deserv'd;     If you do keep your promises in love     But justly as you have exceeded all promise,     Your mistress shall be happy.   ROSALIND. Gentleman,        [Giving him a chain from her neck]     Wear this for me; one out of suits with fortune,     That could give more, but that her hand lacks means.     Shall we go, coz?   CELIA. Ay. Fare you well, fair gentleman.   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. Fare you well.                                        Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA   ORLANDO. What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue?     I cannot speak to her, yet she urg'd conference.     O poor Orlando, thou art overthrown!     Or Charles or something weaker masters thee.                        Re-enter LE BEAU    LE BEAU. Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you     To leave this place. Albeit you have deserv'd     High commendation, true applause, and love,     Yet such is now the Duke's condition     That he misconstrues 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 smaller is his daughter;     The other is daughter to the banish'd Duke,     And here detain'd 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     SCENE III. The DUKE's 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 lam'd 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 lov'd 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 FREDERICK, 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.   FREDERICK. Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste,     And get you from our court.   ROSALIND. Me, uncle?   FREDERICK. 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.   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.   ROSALIND. Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor.     Tell me whereon the likelihood depends.   FREDERICK. 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 banish'd 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.   FREDERICK. Ay, Celia; we stay'd her for your sake,     Else had she with her father rang'd 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, learn'd, play'd, eat together;     And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans,     Still we went coupled and inseparable.   FREDERICK. 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 pass'd upon her; she is banish'd.   CELIA. Pronounce that sentence, then, on me, my liege;     I cannot live out of her company.   FREDERICK. 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.                                            Exeunt DUKE and 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 griev'd than I am.   ROSALIND. I have more cause.   CELIA. Thou hast not, cousin.     Prithee be cheerful. Know'st thou not the Duke     Hath banish'd 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 sund'red? 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 charge 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 call'd?   CELIA. Something that hath a reference to my state:     No longer Celia, but Aliena.   ROSALIND. But, cousin, what if we assay'd 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