VIOLA.
I warrant thou art a merry fellow, and car'st for nothing.
CLOWN.
Not so, sir; I do care for something; but in my conscience, sir,
I do not care for you: if that be to care for nothing, sir, I
would it would make you invisible.
VIOLA.
Art not thou the Lady Olivia's fool?
CLOWN. No, indeed, sir; the Lady Olivia has no folly: she will keep no fool, sir, till she be married; and fools are as like husbands as pilchards are to herrings, the husband's the bigger. I am, indeed, not her fool, but her corrupter of words.
VIOLA.
I saw thee late at the Count Orsino's.
CLOWN. Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun, it shines everywhere. I would be sorry, sir, but the fool should be as oft with your master as with my mistress. I think I saw your wisdom there.
VIOLA. Nay, and thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee. Hold, there's expenses for thee.
CLOWN.
Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send thee a beard!
VIOLA. By my troth, I'll tell thee, I am almost sick for one; [Aside] though I would not have it grow on my chin. Is thy lady within?
CLOWN.
Would not a pair of these have bred, sir?