Orl. And what wit could wit have to excuse that?
Ros. Marry, to say she came to seek you there. You shall never take her without her answer, unless you take 155 her without her tongue. O, that woman that cannot make [156] her fault her husband’s occasion, let her never nurse her [157] child herself, for she will breed it like a fool!
Orl. For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave thee.
Ros. Alas, dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours!
160 Orl. I must attend the Duke at dinner: by two o’clock I will be with thee again.
Ros. Ay, go your ways, go your ways; I knew what you would prove: my friends told me as much, and I thought no less: that flattering tongue of yours won me: 165 ’tis but one cast away, and so, come, death! Two o’clock is your hour?
Orl. Ay, sweet Rosalind.
Ros. By my troth, and in good earnest, and so God mend me, and by all pretty oaths that are not dangerous, 170 if you break one jot of your promise or come one minute [171] behind your hour, I will think you the most pathetical break-promise and the most hollow lover and the most unworthy of her you call Rosalind that may be chosen out of the gross band of the unfaithful: therefore beware my 175 censure and keep your promise.
Orl. With no less religion than if thou wert indeed my Rosalind: so adieu.
Ros. Well, Time is the old justice that examines all [179] such offenders, and let Time try: adieu. [Exit Orlando.