ROSALIND.
A traveller! By my faith, you have great reason to be sad. I fear you have sold your own lands to see other men’s. Then to have seen much and to have nothing is to have rich eyes and poor hands.
JAQUES.
Yes, I have gained my experience.
ROSALIND.
And your experience makes you sad. I had rather have a fool to make me merry than experience to make me sad—and to travel for it too.
Enter Orlando.
ORLANDO.
Good day and happiness, dear Rosalind!
JAQUES.
Nay, then, God be wi’ you, an you talk in blank verse.
ROSALIND.
Farewell, Monsieur Traveller. Look you lisp and wear strange suits; disable all the benefits of your own country; be out of love with your nativity, and almost chide God for making you that countenance you are, or I will scarce think you have swam in a gondola.
[Exit Jaques.]
Why, how now, Orlando, where have you been all this while? You a lover! An you serve me such another trick, never come in my sight more.
ORLANDO.
My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my promise.