Prithee, be cheerful

Celia
Prithee, be cheerful. Know’st thou not the Duke
Hath banished me, his daughter?
Rosalind
That he hath not.

Shall we be sundered? Shall we part, sweet girl?
No, let my father seek another heir.

Celia
No, hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love
Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one.
Shall we be sundered? Shall we part, sweet girl?
No, let my father seek another heir.
Therefore devise with me how we may fly,
Whither to go, and what to bear with us,
And do not seek to take your change upon you,
To bear your griefs yourself and leave me out.
For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale,
Say what thou canst, I’ll go along with thee.
Rosalind
Why, whither shall we go?
Celia
To seek my uncle in the Forest of Arden