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Enter Valentine and Viola in man’s attire.
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| Valentine |
If the duke continue these favours towards you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanced: 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. |
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Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants.
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| Duke |
Who saw Cesario, ho? |
| Viola |
On your attendance, my lord; here. |
| Duke |
Stand you a while 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.
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| Viola |
Sure, my noble lord,
If she be so abandon’d to her sorrow
As it is spoke, she never will admit me.
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| Duke |
Be clamorous and leap all civil bounds
Rather than make unprofited return.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| Viola |
I’ll do my best
To woo your lady: aside yet, a barful strife!
Whoe’er I woo, myself would be his wife. Exeunt.
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