Page 574 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

OLIVIA

My servant, sir? ’Twas never merry world
Since lowly feigning was call’d compliment:
Y’are servant to the Count Orsino, youth.

VIOLA
And he is yours, and his must needs be yours: [100]

Your servant’s servant is your servant, madam.

OLIVIA
For him, I think not on him: for his thoughts,
Would they were blanks, rather than fill’d with me.

VIOLA
Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts
On his behalf.

OLIVIA
O, by your leave, I pray you! [105]

I bade you never speak again of him;
But would you undertake another suit,
I had rather hear you to solicit that,

Than music from the spheres.

VIOLA

Dear lady−

OLIVIA
Give me leave, beseech you. I did send, [110]
After the last enchantment you did here,

A ring in chase of you. So did I abuse
Myself, my servant, and, I fear me, you.
Under your hard construction must I sit,
To force that on you in a shameful cunning [115]

Which you knew none of yours. What might you think?
Have you not set mine honour at the stake,