ORLANDO.
I am glad of your departure. Adieu, good Monsieur Melancholy.
[Exit Jaques.—Celia and Rosalind come forward.]
ROSALIND.
I will speak to him like a saucy lackey, and under that habit play the knave with him.
Do you hear, forester?
ORLANDO.
Very well. What would you?
ROSALIND.
I pray you, what is’t o’clock?
ORLANDO.
You should ask me what time o’ day. There’s no clock in the forest.
ROSALIND.
Then there is no true lover in the forest, else sighing every minute and groaning every hour would detect the lazy foot of time as well as a clock.
ORLANDO.
And why not the swift foot of time? Had not that been as proper?
ROSALIND.
By no means, sir. Time travels in divers paces with divers persons. I’ll tell you who time ambles withal, who time trots withal, who time gallops withal, and who he stands still withal.
ORLANDO.
I prithee, who doth he trot withal?