OLIVIA.
Give us the place alone: we will hear this divinity.
[Exit Maria.]
Now, sir, what is your text?
VIOLA.
Most sweet lady—
OLIVIA.
A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said of it. Where lies your text?
VIOLA.
In Orsino’s bosom.
OLIVIA.
In his bosom? In what chapter of his bosom?
VIOLA.
To answer by the method, in the first of his heart.
OLIVIA.
O, I have read it; it is heresy. Have you no more to say?
VIOLA.
Good madam, let me see your face.