William Shakespeare: Twelfth Night

ACT I. 4. SCENE IV. A Room in the DUKE'S Palace. (continued)

DUKE.
Dear lad, believe it,
For they shall yet belie thy happy years
That say thou art a man: Diana's lip
Is not more smooth and rubious; thy small pipe
Is as the maiden's organ, shrill and sound,
And all is semblative a woman's part.
I know thy constellation is right apt
For this affair:--some four or five attend him:
All, if you will; for I myself am best
When least in company:--prosper well in this,
And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord,
To call his fortunes thine.

VIOLA.
I'll do my best
To woo your lady. [Aside] Yet, a barful strife!
Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife.