ROSALIND: [Aside to CELIA] I will speak to him, like a saucy lackey and
under that habit play the knave with him. Do you
ORLANDO: Very well: what would you?
ROSALIND: I pray you, what is't ošclock? 
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?
ROSALIND: Marry, he trots hard with a young maid
between the contract of her marriage and the day it
is solemnized: if the interim be but a se'nnight, 
Time's pace is so hard that it seems the length of seven
ORLANDO: Who ambles Time withal?
ROSALIND: With a priest that lacks Latin and a rich
man that hath not the gout, for the one sleeps easily 
because he cannot study, and the other lives merrily
because he feels no pain, the one lacking the burden
of lean and wasteful learning, the other knowing no
burden of heavy tedious penury; these Time ambles
ORLANDO: Who doth he gallop withal?
ROSALIND: With a thief to the gallows, for though he
go as softly as foot can fall, he thinks himself too soon
ORLANDO: Who stays it still withal? 
ROSALIND: With lawyers in the vacation, for they
sleep between term and term and then they perceive
not how Time moves.
ORLANDO: Where dwell you, pretty youth?
ROSALIND: With this shepherdess, my sister; here in 
the skirts of the forest, like fringe upon a petticoat.
ORLANDO: Are you native of this place?
ROSALIND: As the cony that you see dwell where she is
ORLANDO: Your accent is something finer than you 
could purchase in so removed a dwelling.
ROSALIND: I have been told so of many: but indeed an
old religious uncle of mine taught me to speak, who
was in his youth an inland man; one that knew
courtship too well, for there he fell in love. I have 
heard him read many lectures against it, and I thank
God I am not a woman, to be touched with so many
giddy offences as he hath generally taxed their whole
ORLANDO: Can you remember any of the principal 
evils that he laid to the charge of women?
ROSALIND: There were none principal; they were all
like one another as half-pence are, every one fault
seeming monstrous till his fellow fault came to
match it. 
ORLANDO: I prithee, recount some of them.
ROSALIND: No, I will not cast away my physic but on
those that are sick. There is a man haunts the forest,
that abuses our young plants with carving Rosalind'
on their barks; hangs odes upon hawthorns and 
elegies on brambles, all, forsooth, deifying the name
of Rosalind: if I could meet that fancy-monger I
would give him some good counsel, for he seems to
have the quotidian of love upon him.
ORLANDO: I am he that is so love-shaked: I pray you 
tell me your remedy.
ROSALIND: There is none of my uncle's marks upon
you: he taught me how to know a man in love; in
which cage of rushes I am sure you are not prisoner.
ORLANDO: What were his marks? 
ROSALIND: A lean cheek, which you have not, a blue
eye and sunken, which you have not, an unquestion-
able spirit, which you have not, a beard neglected,
which you have not; but I pardon you for that, for
simply your having in beard is a younger brother's 
revenue: then your hose should be ungartered, your
bonnet unbanded, your sleeve unbuttoned, your shoe
untied and every thing about you demonstrating a
careless desolation; but you are no such man; you are
rather point-device in your accoutrements as loving 
yourself than seeming the lover of any other.
ORLANDO: Fair youth, I would I could make thee
believe I love.
ROSALIND: Me believe it! you may as soon make her
that you love believe it; which, I warrant, she is apter 
to do than to confess she does: that is one of the points
in the which women still give the lie to their con-
sciences. But, in good sooth, are you he that hangs the
verses on the trees, wherein Rosalind is so admired?
ORLANDO: I swear to thee, youth, by the white hand 
of Rosalind, I am that he, that unfortunate he.
ROSALIND: But are you so much in love as your
ORLANDO: Neither rhyme nor reason can express how
ROSALIND: Love is merely a madness, and, I tell you,
deserves as well a dark house and a whip as madmen
do: and the reason why they are not so punished and
cured is, that the lunacy is so ordinary that the whippers
are in love too. Yet I profess curing it by counsel. 
ORLANDO: Did you ever cure any so?
ROSALIND: Yes, one, and in this manner. He was to
imagine me his love, his mistress; and I set him every
day to woo me: at which time would I, being but a
moonish youth, grieve, be effeminate, changeable, 
longing and liking, proud, fantastical, apish, shallow,
inconstant, full of tears, full of smiles, for every
passion something and for no passion truly any thing,
as boys and women are for the most part cattle of this
colour; would now like him, now loathe him; then 
entertain him, then forswear him; now weep for him,
then spit at him; that I drave my suitor from his mad
humour of love to a living humour of madness; which
was, to forswear the full stream of the world, and to
live in a nook merely monastic. And thus I cured him; 
and this way will I take upon me to wash your liver
as clean as a sound sheep's heart, that there shall not be
one spot of love in't.
ORLANDO: I would not be cured, youth.
ROSALIND: I would cure you, if you would but call 
me Rosalind and come every day to my cote and
ORLANDO: Now, by the faith of my love, I will: tell
me where it is.
ROSALIND: Go with me to it and I'll show it you: 
and by the way you shall tell me where in the forest
you live. Will you go?
ORLANDO: With all my heart, good youth.
ROSALIND: Nay you must call me Rosalind. Come,
sister, will you go?