Tell me your mind: I am a 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 fun of peace as matter.
OLIVIA Yet you began rudely. What are you? what would you?
VIOLA The rudeness that hath appeared in me have I
learned from my entertainment. What I am, and what I
would, are as secret as maidenhead; to your ears,
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.
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