That makes thee strangle thy propriety:
Fear not, Cesario; take thy fortunes up;
Be [that thou] know'st thou art, and then thou art
As great as that thou fear'st.
O, welcome, father!
Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence,
Here to unfold, though lately we intended
To keep in darkness what occasion now
Reveals before 'tis ripe, what thou dost know