CELIA. It is as easy to count atomies as to resolve the propositions of a lover. But take a taste of my finding him, and relish it with good observance. I found him under a tree, like a dropped acorn. ROSALIND. It may well be called Jove’s tree when it drops forth such fruit. CELIA. Give me audience, good madam. ROSALIND. Proceed. CELIA. There lay he, stretched along like a wounded knight. ROSALIND. Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well becomes the ground. CELIA. Cry “holla!” to thy tongue, I prithee. It curvets unseasonably. He was furnished like a hunter. ROSALIND. O, ominous! He comes to kill my heart. CELIA. I would sing my song without a burden. Thou bring’st me out of tune. ROSALIND. Do you not know I am a woman? When I think, I must speak. Sweet, say on. Enter Orlando and Jaques. CELIA. You bring me out. Soft, comes he not here? ROSALIND. ’Tis he! Slink by, and note him. [_Rosalind and Celia step aside._] JAQUES. I thank you for your company but, good faith, I had as lief have been myself alone. ORLANDO. And so had I, but yet, for fashion sake, I thank you too for your society. JAQUES. God be wi’ you, let’s meet as little as we can. ORLANDO. I do desire we may be better strangers. JAQUES. I pray you, mar no more trees with writing love songs in their barks. ORLANDO. I pray you, mar no more of my verses with reading them ill-favouredly. JAQUES. Rosalind is your love’s name? ORLANDO. Yes, just. JAQUES. I do not like her name. ORLANDO. There was no thought of pleasing you when she was christened. JAQUES. What stature is she of? ORLANDO. Just as high as my heart. JAQUES. You are full of pretty answers. Have you not been acquainted with goldsmiths’ wives, and conned them out of rings? 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. 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.