Duke F. You are a fool:—You, niece, provide yourself;
If you outstay the time, upon my honor,
And in the greatness of my word, you die.
(Exeunt Duke Frederick and Lords.)
Cel. 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.
Ros. I have more cause.
Cel. Thou hast not, cousin,
Pr’ythee, be cheerful: know’st thou not, the duke