Enter CELIA and ROSALIND
Why, cousin! Why, Rosalind! Cupid have mercy, not a
Not one to throw at a dog.
No, thy words are too precious to be cast away upon curs.
5Throw some of them at me. Come, lame me with reasons.
Then there were two cousins laid up, when the one should
be lamed with reasons and the other mad without any.
But is all this for your father?
No, some of it is for my child’s father. Oh, how full of briers
is this working-day world!
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.
I could shake them off my coat. These burs are in my heart.
I would try, if I could cry “hem” and have him.
Come, come, wrestle with thy affections.