ACT I.

_An open place_ (_with goal-posts at each end_).

_Enter from opposite turnstiles_ Duke Frederick _and_ Rosalind (_with_ Celia).

_Duke._ How now, daughter and cousin? Are you crept hither to see the football?

_Rosalind._ Ay, my lord, so please you give us leave.

_Duke._ You will take little delight in it, I can tell you. I only came myself from--er--duty. It's disgraceful to think that our able-bodied young men should waste their time kicking a ball about in this crisis. I would enlist myself if only I were ten years younger.

_Celia_ (_thoughtfully_). I know a man just about your age who----

_Duke_ (_hastily_). Besides, I have a weak heart.

[_Shout._ Orlando _kicks a goal_.

_Rosalind._ Who is that excellent young man?

_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.

_Rosalind_ (_casually_). I wonder where the Fifth Battalion is training?

_Celia._ Somewhere in the Forest, I expect.

_Rosalind._ Alas, what danger will it be to us Maids as we are to travel forth so far!

_Celia._ I'll put myself into a Red Cross dress.

_Rosalind._ I do not like the Red Cross uniform.

_Celia._ You could be photographed ten times a day: "_The Lady Rosalind a Red Cross Nurse_."

_Rosalind._ I like it not. Nay, I will be a Scout.

_Celia._ What shall I call thee when thou art a Scout?

_Rosalind._ I'll have no worse a name than Archibald. The Boy Scout Archibald. And what of you?

_Celia._ Something that hath a reference to my state; No longer Celia now, but Helia.

_Rosalind._ Help!