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.
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