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Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare
page 60 of 115 (52%)
Your seruants seruant, is your seruant Madam

Ol. For him, I thinke not on him: for his thoughts,
Would they were blankes, rather then fill'd with me

Vio. Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts
On his behalfe

Ol. O by your leaue I pray you.
I bad you neuer speake againe of him;
But would you vndertake another suite
I had rather heare you, to solicit that,
Then Musicke from the spheares

Vio. Deere Lady

Ol. Giue me leaue, beseech you: I did send,
After the last enchantment you did heare,
A Ring in chace of you. So did I abuse
My selfe, my seruant, and I feare me you:
Vnder your hard construction must I sit,
To force that on you in a shamefull cunning
Which you knew none of yours. What might you think?
Haue you not set mine Honor at the stake,
And baited it with all th' vnmuzled thoughts
That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiuing
Enough is shewne, a Cipresse, not a bosome,
Hides my heart: so let me heare you speake

Vio. I pittie you
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