William Shakespeare: Twelfth Night

ACT I. 5. SCENE V. A Room in OLIVIA'S House. (continued)

MARIA.
Will you hoist sail, sir? here lies your way.

VIOLA.
No, good swabber; I am to hull here a little longer.--
Some mollification for your giant, sweet lady.

OLIVIA.
Tell me your mind.

VIOLA.
I am a messenger.

OLIVIA.
Sure, you have some hideous matter to deliver, when the
courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak your office.

VIOLA.
It alone concerns your ear. I bring no overture of war, no
taxation of homage; I hold the olive in my hand: my words are as
full of peace as matter.

OLIVIA.
Yet you began rudely. What are you? what would you?

VIOLA.
The rudeness that hath appeared in me have I learned from my
entertainment. What I am and what I would are as secret as
maidenhead: to your ears, divinity; to any other's, profanation.

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.

OLIVIA.
Have you any commission from your lord to negotiate with my
face? you are now out of your text: but we will draw the curtain
and show you the picture. Look you, sir, such a one I was this
present. Is't not well done?

[Unveiling.]