VALENTINE. If the Duke continue these favours towards you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanc'd; he hath known you but three days, and already you are no stranger.

        VIOLA. You either fear his humour or my negligence, that you call  in question the continuance of his love. Is he inconstant, sir, in his favours?

       VALENTINE. No, believe me.

      VIOLA. I thank you. Here comes the Count.

        DUKE. Who saw Cesario, ho?

        VIOLA. On your attendance, my lord, here.

        DUKE. Stand you awhile aloof. Cesario,

          Thou know'st no less but all; I have unclasp'd

          To thee the book even of my secret soul.

          Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her;

          Be not denied access, stand at her doors,

          And tell them there thy fixed foot shall grow

          Till thou have audience.

        VIOLA. Sure, my noble lord,

          If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow

          As it is spoke, she never will admit me.

        DUKE. Be clamorous and leap all civil bounds,

          Rather than make unprofited return.

        VIOLA. Say I do speak with her, my lord, what then?

        DUKE. O, then unfold the passion of my love,

          Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith!

          It shall become thee well to act my woes:

          She will attend it better in thy youth

          Than in a nuncio's of more grave aspect.

        VIOLA. I think not so, my lord.

        DUKE. Dear lad, believe it,

          For they shall yet belie thy happy years

          That say thou art a man: Diana's lip

          Is not more smooth and rubious; thy small pipe

          Is as the maiden's organ, shrill and sound,

          And all is semblative a woman's part.

          I know thy constellation is right apt

          For this affair. Some four or five attend him-

          All, if you will, for I myself am best

          When least in company. Prosper well in this,

          And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord

          To call his fortunes thine.

        VIOLA. I'll do my best

          To woo your lady. [Aside] Yet, a barful strife!

          Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife.

      MARIA. Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will not open my lips so wide as a bristle may enter in way of thy excuse; my lady will hang thee for thy absence.

        CLOWN. Let her hang me. He that is well hang'd in this world needs to fear no colours.

        MARIA. Make that good.

        CLOWN. He shall see none to fear.

        MARIA. A good lenten answer. I can tell thee where that saying was born, of 'I fear no colours.'

        CLOWN. Where, good Mistress Mary?

        MARIA. In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in your foolery.

        CLOWN. Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those that are fools, let them use their talents.

        MARIA. Yet you will be hang'd for being so long absent; or to be turn'd away- is not that as good as a hanging to you?

        CLOWN. Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage; and for turning away, let summer bear it out.

        MARIA. You are resolute, then?

        CLOWN. Not so, neither; but I am resolv'd on two points.

        MARIA. That if one break, the other will hold; or if both break, your gaskins fall.

        CLOWN. Apt, in good faith, very apt! Well, go thy way; if Sir Toby  would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria.

        MARIA. Peace, you rogue, no more o' that. Here comes my lady. Make your excuse wisely, you were best. Exit

      CLOWN. Wit, an't be thy will, put me into good fooling! Those wits

      that think they have thee do very oft prove fools; and I that am

      sure I lack thee may pass for a wise man. For what says

      Quinapalus? 'Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.' God bless thee, lady!

        OLIVIA.