Orl. Not so; but I answer you right painted
cloth, from whence you have studied your ques-
tions. 293
Jaq. You have a nimble wit: I think 'twas
made of Atalanta's heels. Will you sit down
with me? and we two will rail against our mis-
tress the world, and all our misery. 297
Orl. I will chide no breather in the world but
myself, against whom I know most faults.
Jaq. The worst fault you have is to be in
love.
Orl. 'Tis a fault I will not change for your
best virtue. I am weary of you.
Jaq. By my troth, I was seeking for a fool
when I found you. 305
Orl. He is drowned in the brook: look but in,
and you shall see him.
Jaq. There I shall see mine own figure. 308
Orl. Which I take to be either a fool or a
cipher.
Jaq. I'll tarry no longer with you. Farewell,
good Signior Love. 312
Orl. I am glad of your departure. Adieu,
good Monsieur Melancholy. [Exit Jaques.]
Ros. I will speak to him like a saucy lackey,
and under that habit play the knave with him.
Do you hear, forester? 317
Orl. Very well: what would you?
Ros. I pray you, what is 't o'clock?
Orl. You should ask me, what time o' day;
there's no clock in the forest. 321
Ros. Then there is no true lover in the forest;
else sighing every minute and groaning every
291 painted cloth; cf. n.
298 breather: living creature
316 habit: garb
