Enter OLIVIA and MARIA
Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain
odours on you!
SIR ANDREW
That youth's a rare courtier: 'Rain odours;' well.
VIOLA
My matter hath no voice, to your own most pregnant
and vouchsafed ear.
SIR ANDREW
'Odours,' 'pregnant' and 'vouchsafed:' I'll get 'em
all three all ready.
OLIVIA
Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing.
Exeunt SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and MARIA
Give me your hand, sir.
VIOLA
My duty, madam, and most humble service.
OLIVIA
What is your name?
VIOLA
Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess.
OLIVIA
My servant, sir! 'Twas never merry world
Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment:
You're servant to the Count Orsino, youth.
VIOLA
And he is yours, and his must needs be yours:
Your servant's servant is your servant, madam.
OLIVIA
For him, I think not on him: for his thoughts,
Would they were blanks, rather than fill'd with me!
VIOLA
Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts
On his behalf.
OLIVIA
O, by your leave, I pray you,
I bade you never speak again of him:
But, would you undertake another suit,
I had rather hear you to solicit that
Than music from the spheres.
VIOLA
Dear lady,--
OLIVIA
Give me leave, beseech you. I did send,
After the last enchantment you did here,
A ring in chase of you: so did I abuse
Myself, my servant and, I fear me, you:
Under your hard construction must I sit,
To force that on you, in a shameful cunning,
Which you knew none of yours: what might you think?
Have you not set mine honour at the stake
And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts
That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiving
Enough is shown: a cypress, not a bosom,
Hideth my heart. So, let me hear you speak.
VIOLA
I pity you.
OLIVIA
That's a degree to love.
VIOLA
No, not a grize; for 'tis a vulgar proof,
That very oft we pity enemies.
OLIVIA
Why, then, methinks 'tis time to smile again.
O, world, how apt the poor are to be proud!
If one should be a prey, how much the better
To fall before the lion than the wolf!
Clock strikes
The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.
Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you:
And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest,
Your were is alike to reap a proper man:
There lies your way, due west.
VIOLA
Then westward-ho! Grace and good disposition
Attend your ladyship!
You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?
OLIVIA
Stay:
I prithee, tell me what thou thinkest of me.
VIOLA
That you do think you are not what you are.
OLIVIA
If I think so, I think the same of you.
VIOLA
Then think you right: I am not what I am.
OLIVIA
I would you were as I would have you be!
VIOLA
Would it be better, madam, than I am?
I wish it might, for now I am your fool.
OLIVIA
O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
In the contempt and anger of his lip!
A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon
Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon.
Cesario, by the roses of the spring,
By maidhood, honour, truth and every thing,
I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride,
Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide.
Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,
For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause,
But rather reason thus with reason fetter,
Love sought is good, but given unsought better.
VIOLA
By innocence I swear, and by my youth
I have one heart, one bosom and one truth,
And that no woman has; nor never none
Shall mistress be of it, save I alone.
And so adieu, good madam: never more
Will I my master's tears to you deplore.
OLIVIA
Yet come again; for thou perhaps mayst move
That heart, which now abhors, to like his love.
Exeunt