William Shakespeare: As You Like It

ACT I.
3. 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.

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