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.
Above my fortunes, yet my state is well. I am a gentleman.
You might do much. What is your parentage?
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.
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 fervor, like my master’s, be placed in contempt.Farewell, fair cruelty.
Fare you well. I thank you for your pains.
The door shuts closed and Cesario leaves.
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.
“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 fivefold blazon. Not too fast! Soft, soft!
*Sighs* Well, let it be.
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