messenger.
  OLIVIA. Sure, you have some hideous matter to deliver, when the
    courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak your office.
  VIOLA. It alone concerns your ear. I bring no overture of war,
no
    taxation of homage: I hold the olive in my hand; my words are
as
    full of peace as matter.
  OLIVIA. Yet you began rudely. What are you? What would you?
  VIOLA. The rudeness that hath appear'd in me have I learn'd
from my
    entertainment. What I am and what I would are as secret as
    maidenhead- to your cars, divinity; to any other's,
profanation.
  OLIVIA. Give us the place alone; we will hear this divinity.
    [Exeunt MARIA and ATTENDANTS] Now, sir, what is your text?
  VIOLA. Most sweet lady-
  OLIVIA. A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said of it.
    Where lies your text?
  VIOLA. In Orsino's bosom.
  OLIVIA. In his bosom! In what chapter of his bosom?
  VIOLA. To answer by the method: in the first of his heart.
  OLIVIA. O, I have read it; it is heresy. Have you no more to
say?
  VIOLA. Good madam, let me see your face.
  OLIVIA. Have you any commission from your lord to negotiate
with my
    face? You are now out of your text; but we will draw the
curtain
    and show you the picture. [Unveiling] Look you, sir, such a
one I
    was this present. Is't not well done?
  VIOLA. Excellently done, if God did all.
  OLIVIA. 'Tis in grain, sir; 'twill endure wind and weather.
  VIOLA. 'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white
    Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on.
    Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive,
    If you will lead these graces to the grave,
    And leave the world no copy.
  OLIVIA. O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will give out
    divers schedules of my beauty. It shall be inventoried, and
every
    particle and utensil labell'd to my will: as- item, two lips
    indifferent red; item, two grey eyes with lids to them; item,
one
    neck, one chin, and so forth. Were you sent hither to praise
me?
  VIOLA. I see you what you are: you are too proud;
    But, if you were the devil, you are fair.
    My lord and master loves you- O, such love
    Could be but recompens'd though you were crown'd
    The nonpareil of beauty!
  OLIVIA. How does he love me?
  VIOLA. With adorations, fertile tears,
    With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.
  OLIVIA. Your lord does know my mind; I cannot love him.
    Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble,
    Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth;
    In voices well divulg'd, free, learn'd, and valiant,
    And in dimension and the shape of nature
    A gracious person; but yet I cannot love him.
    He might have took his answer long ago.
  VIOLA. If I did love you in my master's flame,
    With such a suff'ring, such a deadly life,
    In your denial I would find no sense;
    I would not understand it.
  OLIVIA. Why, what would you?
  VIOLA. Make me a willow cabin at your gate,
    And call upon my soul within the house;
    Write loyal cantons of contemned love
    And sing them loud even in the dead of night;
    Halloo your name to the reverberate hals,
    And make the babbling gossip of the air
    Cry out 'Olivia!' O, you should not rest
    Between the elements of air and earth
    But you should pity me!
  OLIVIA. You might do much.
    What is your parentage?
  VIOLA. Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:
    I am a gentleman.
  OLIVIA. Get you to your lord.
    I cannot love him; let him send no more-
    Unless perchance you come to me again
    To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well.
    I thank you for your pains; spend this for me.
  VIOLA. I am no fee'd post, lady; keep your purse;
    My master, not myself, lacks recompense.
    Love make his heart of flint that you shall love;
    And let your fervour, like my master's, be
    Plac'd in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty. Exit
  OLIVIA. 'What is your parentage?'
    'Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:
    I am a gentleman.' I'll be sworn thou art;
    Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit,
    Do give thee five-fold blazon. Not too fast! Soft, soft!
    Unless the master were the man. How now!
    Even so quickly may one catch the plague?
    Methinks I feel this youth's perfections
    With an invisible and subtle stealth
    To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.
    What ho, Malvolio!

Re-enter MALVOLIO

  MALVOLIO. Here, madam, at your service.
  OLIVIA. Run after that same peevish messenger,
    The County's man. He left this ring behind him,
    Would I or not. Tell him I'll none of it.
    Desire him not to flatter with his lord,
    Nor hold him up with hopes; I am not for him.
    If that the youth will come this way to-morrow,
    I'll give him reasons for't. Hie thee, Malvolio.
  MALVOLIO. Madam, I will. Exit
  OLIVIA. I do I know not what, and fear to find
    Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind.
    Fate, show thy force: ourselves we do not owe;
    What is decreed must be; and be this so! Exit

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ACT II. SCENE I. The sea-coast

Enter ANTONIO and SEBASTIAN

  ANTONIO. Will you stay no longer; nor will you not that I go
with
    you?
  SEBASTIAN. By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly over me;
the
    malignancy of my fate might perhaps distemper yours;
therefore I
    shall crave of you your leave that I may bear my evils alone.
It
    were a bad recompense for your love to lay any of them on
you.
  ANTONIO. Let me know of you whither you are bound.
  SEBASTIAN. No, sooth, sir; my determinate voyage is mere
    extravagancy. But I perceive in you so excellent a touch of
    modesty that you will not extort from me what I am willing to
    keep in; therefore it charges me in manners the rather to
express
    myself. You must know of me then, Antonio, my name is
Sebastian,
    which I call'd Roderigo; my father was that Sebastian of
    Messaline whom I know you have heard of. He left behind him
    myself and a sister, both born in an hour; if the heavens had
    been pleas'd, would we had so ended! But you, sir, alter'd
that;
    for some hour before you took me from the breach of the sea
was
    my