OLIVIA. Give me leave, beseech you. I did send, 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, Which you knew none of yours; what might you think? Have you not set mine honour at the stake, And baited it with all th' unmuzzled thoughts That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiving Enough is shown. A cypress, not a bosom, Hides my heart. So, let me hear you speak. VIOLA. I pity you. OLIVIA. That's a degree to love. VIOLA. No, not a grize; for 't is a vulgar proof, That very oft we pity enemies. OLIVIA. Why, then methinks 't is time to smile again. O world, how apt the poor are to be proud! If one should be a prey, how much the better To fall before the lion than the wolf! [Clock strikes] The clock upbraids me with the waste of time. Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you; And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest, Your wife is like to reap a proper man. There lies your way, due west. VIOLA. Then westward-ho! Grace and good disposition Attend your ladyship! You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me? OLIVIA. Stay: I prithee, tell me what thou think'st of me. VIOLA. That you do think you are not what you are. OLIVIA. If I think so, I think the same of you. VIOLA. Then think you right; I am not what I am. OLIVIA. I would you were as I would have you be! VIOLA. Would it be better, madam, than I am? I wish it might, for now I am your fool. OLIVIA. O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his lip! A murd'rous guilt shows not itself more soon Than love that would seem hid; love's night is noon. Cesario, by the roses of the spring, By maidhood, honour, truth, and every thing, I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride, Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide. Do not extort thy reasons from this clause, For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause; But rather reason thus with reason fetter, Love sought is good, but given unsought is better. VIOLA. By innocence I swear, and by my youth, I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth, And that no woman has; nor never none Shall mistress be of it, save I alone. And so adieu, good madam; never more Will I my master's tears to you deplore. OLIVIA. Yet come again; for thou perhaps mayst move That heart, which now abhors, to like his love. [Exeunt.] SCENE II. OLIVIA'S house [Enter SIR TOBY, SIR ANDREW and FABIAN.] SIR ANDREW. No, faith, I'll not stay a jot longer. SIR TOBY. Thy reason, dear venom, give thy reason. FABIAN. You must needs yield your reason, Sir Andrew. SIR ANDREW. Marry, I saw your niece do more favours to the count's serving-man than ever she bestow'd upon me; I saw 't i' th' orchard. SIR TOBY. Did she see thee the while, old boy? tell me that. SIR ANDREW. As plain as I see you now. FABIAN. This was a great argument of love in her toward you.