Ros. I’ll have no other worse than Jove’s own page,
And therefore, look you, call me Ganymede.
But what will you be call’d?
Cel. Something that hath a reference to my state:
No longer Celia, but Aliena.
Ros. But, cousin, what if we assayed to steal
The clownish fool out of your father’s court?
Would he not be a comfort to our travel?
Cel. He’ll go along o’er the wide world with me;
Leave me alone to woo him: Let’s away