Why, whither shall we go?

Rosalind
Why, whither shall we go?
Celia 
To seek my uncle in the Forest of Arden.

Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.

Rosalind
Alas, what danger will it be to us,
Maids as we are, to travel forth so far?
Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.
Celia
I’ll put myself in poor and mean attire,
And with a kind of umber smirch my face.
The like do you. So shall we pass along
And never stir assailants.
Rosalind
Were it not better,
Because that I am more than common tall,
That I did suit me all points like a man?
A gallant curtal-ax upon my thigh,
A boar-spear in my hand, and in my heart
Lie there what hidden woman’s fear there will,
We’ll have a swashing and a martial outside—
As many other mannish cowards have
That do outface it with their semblances.
Celia
What shall I call thee when thou art a man?
Rosalind
I’ll have no worse a name than Jove’s own page,
And therefore look you call me Ganymede.
But what will you be called?
Celia
Something that hath a reference to my state:
No longer Celia, but Aliena.
Rosalind
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?
Celia
He’ll go along o’er the wide world with me.
Leave me alone to woo him. Let’s away
And get our jewels and our wealth together,
Devise the fittest time and safest way
To hide us from pursuit that will be made
After my flight. Now go we in content
To liberty, and not to banishment.
 They exit.