ORLANDO.
Not so; but I answer you right painted cloth, from whence you have studied your questions.
JAQUES.
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 mistress the world and all our misery.
ORLANDO.
I will chide no breather in the world but myself, against whom I know most faults.
JAQUES.
The worst fault you have is to be in love.
ORLANDO.
’Tis a fault I will not change for your best virtue. I am weary of you.
JAQUES.
By my troth, I was seeking for a fool when I found you.
ORLANDO.
He is drowned in the brook. Look but in, and you shall see him.
JAQUES.
There I shall see mine own figure.
ORLANDO.
Which I take to be either a fool or a cipher.
JAQUES.
I’ll tarry no longer with you. Farewell, good Signior Love.