Duke. Orlando. I have tried to persuade him to go, but he will not be entreated. Speak to him, ladies; see if you can move him.
[Whistle. Time. Arden Wednesday is defeated 2-1. Orlando approaches.
Rosalind. Young man, are you aware that there is a war on?
Orlando. Yes, lady.
Rosalind (giving him a small white feather from her bag).
Wear this for me, the lastling of the flock;
To-morrow you shall have a better one.
Orlando. Lady, I thank you for your welcome gift.
This little favour cunningly affixed
With mucilage upon the upper lip
Shall take the place of those informal sproutings
Which military etiquette demands
And Nature has persistently denied me.
Rosalind (alarmed). Why want you a moustache, young man?
Orlando. To fight with.
(Bowing.) Second Lieutenant O. de Boys; gazetted
This very morning to the Fifth Battalion
The Arden Foresters—and at your service.
My men await me. Fare you well, fair ladies.
[Exit.
Rosalind (sighing). Celia, my dear, I've made a fool of myself again.
Celia. It looks like it. You're always so hasty.