And. I, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent well in a dam'd colour'd stocke. Shall we sit about some Reuels? To. What shall we do else: were we not borne vnder Taurus? And. Taurus? That sides and heart
To. No sir, it is leggs and thighes: let me see thee caper. Ha, higher: ha, ha, excellent.
Enter Valentine, and Viola in mans attire.
Val. If the Duke continue these fauours towards you Cesario, you are like to be much aduanc'd, he hath known you but three dayes, and already you are no stranger
Vio. You either feare his humour, or my negligence, that you call in question the continuance of his loue. Is he inconstant sir, in his fauours
Val. No beleeue me. Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants.
Vio. I thanke you: heere comes the Count
Duke. Who saw Cesario hoa? Vio. On your attendance my Lord heere
Du. Stand you a-while aloofe. Cesario, Thou knowst no lesse, but all: I haue vnclasp'd To thee the booke euen of my secret soule. Therefore good youth, addresse thy gate vnto her, Be not deni'de accesse, stand at her doores, And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow Till thou haue audience
Vio. Sure my Noble Lord, If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow As it is spoke, she neuer will admit me
Du. Be clamorous, and leape all ciuill bounds, Rather then make vnprofited returne, Vio. Say I do speake with her (my Lord) what then? Du. O then, vnfold the passion of my loue, Surprize her with discourse of my deere faith; It shall become thee well to act my woes: She will attend it better in thy youth, Then in a Nuntio's of more graue aspect
Vio. I thinke not so, my Lord
Du. Deere Lad, beleeue it; For they shall yet belye thy happy yeeres, That say thou art a man: Dianas lip Is not more smooth, and rubious: thy small pipe Is as the maidens organ, shrill, and sound, And all is semblatiue a womans part. I know thy constellation is right apt For this affayre: some foure or fiue attend him, All if you will: for I my selfe am best When least in companie: prosper well in this, And thou shalt liue as freely as thy Lord, To call his fortunes thine
Vio. Ile do my best To woe your Lady: yet a barrefull strife, Who ere I woe, my selfe would be his wife.
Enter Maria, and Clowne.
Ma. Nay, either tell me where thou hast bin, or I will not open my lippes so wide as a brissle may enter, in way of thy excuse: my Lady will hang thee for thy absence
Clo. Let her hang me: hee that is well hang'de in this world, needs to feare no colours
Ma. Make that good
Clo. He shall see none to feare
Ma. A good lenton answer: I can tell thee where y saying was borne, of I feare no colours
Clo. Where good mistris Mary? Ma. In the warrs, & that may you be bolde to say in your foolerie
Clo. Well, God giue them wisedome that haue it: & those that are fooles, let them vse their talents
Ma. 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? Clo. Many a good hanging, preuents a bad marriage: and for turning away, let summer beare it out
Ma. You are resolute then? Clo. Not so neyther, but I am resolu'd on two points Ma. That if one breake, the other will hold: or if both breake, your gaskins fall