VIOLA.
You either fear his humour or my negligence, that you call in question the continuance of his love. Is he inconstant, sir, in his favours?
VALENTINE.
No, believe me.
Enter Duke, Curio and Attendants.
VIOLA.
I thank you. Here comes the Count.
DUKE.
Who saw Cesario, ho?
VIOLA.
On your attendance, my lord, here.
DUKE.
Stand you awhile aloof.—Cesario,
Thou know’st no less but all; I have unclasp’d
To thee the book even of my secret soul.
Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her,
Be not denied access, stand at her doors,
And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow
Till thou have audience.
VIOLA.
Sure, my noble lord,
If she be so abandon’d to her sorrow
As it is spoke, she never will admit me.
DUKE.
Be clamorous and leap all civil bounds,
Rather than make unprofited return.
VIOLA.
Say I do speak with her, my lord, what then?