Twelfth Night; Or, What You Will

1 Enter Valentine and Viola in man’s attire.
2 VALENTINE.
3 If the duke continue these favours towards you, Cesario, you are like
4 to be much advanced; he hath known you but three days, and already you
5 are no stranger.
6 VIOLA.
7 You either fear his humour or my negligence, that you call in question
8 the continuance of his love. Is he inconstant, sir, in his favours?
9 VALENTINE.
10 No, believe me.
11 Enter Duke, Curio and Attendants.
12 VIOLA.
13 I thank you. Here comes the Count.
14 DUKE.
15 Who saw Cesario, ho?
16 VIOLA.
17 On your attendance, my lord, here.
18 DUKE.
19 Stand you awhile aloof.—Cesario,
20 Thou know’st no less but all; I have unclasp’d
21 To thee the book even of my secret soul.
22 Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her,
23 Be not denied access, stand at her doors,
24 And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow
25 Till thou have audience.
26 VIOLA.
27 Sure, my noble lord,
28 If she be so abandon’d to her sorrow
29 As it is spoke, she never will admit me.
30 DUKE.
31 Be clamorous and leap all civil bounds,
32 Rather than make unprofited return.
33 VIOLA.
34 Say I do speak with her, my lord, what then?
35 DUKE.
36 O then unfold the passion of my love,
37 Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith;
38 It shall become thee well to act my woes;
39 She will attend it better in thy youth,
40 Than in a nuncio’s of more grave aspect.
41 VIOLA.
42 I think not so, my lord.
43 DUKE.
44 Dear lad, believe it;
45 For they shall yet belie thy happy years,
46 That say thou art a man: Diana’s lip
47 Is not more smooth and rubious; thy small pipe
48 Is as the maiden’s organ, shrill and sound,
49 And all is semblative a woman’s part.
50 I know thy constellation is right apt
51 For this affair. Some four or five attend him:
52 All, if you will; for I myself am best
53 When least in company. Prosper well in this,
54 And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord,
55 To call his fortunes thine.
56 VIOLA.
57 I’ll do my best
58 To woo your lady. [_Aside._] Yet, a barful strife!
59 Whoe’er I woo, myself would be his wife.
60 [_Exeunt._]