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Shakespeare, William

"Twelfth Night"


Clown You have said, sir. To see this age! A sentence is
but a cheveril glove to a good wit: how quickly the
wrong side may be turned outward!
VIOLA Nay, that's certain; they that dally nicely with
words may quickly make them wanton.
Clown I would, therefore, my sister had had no name, sir.
VIOLA Why, man?
Clown Why, sir, her name's a word; and to dally with that
word might make my sister wanton. But indeed words
are very rascals since bonds disgraced them.
VIOLA Thy reason, man?
Clown Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words; and
words are grown so false, I am loath to prove
reason with them.
VIOLA I warrant thou art a merry fellow and carest for nothing.
Clown Not so, sir, I do care for something; but in my
conscience, sir, I do not care for you: if that be
to care for nothing, sir, I would it would make you invisible.
VIOLA Art not thou the Lady Olivia's fool?
Clown No, indeed, sir; the Lady Olivia has no folly: she
will keep no fool, sir, till she be married; and
fools are as like husbands as pilchards are to
herrings; the husband's the bigger: I am indeed not
her fool, but her corrupter of words.


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