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with my speech in your praise, and then shew

you

the heart of my message.

Oli. Come to what is important in't: I forgive you the praise.

Vio. Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis poetical.

490 Oli. It is the more like to be feign’d; I pray you, keep it in. I heard, you were saucy at my gates ; and allow'd your approach, rather to wonder at you than to hear you,

If you be not mad, be gone; if you have reason, be brief : 'tis not that time of the moon with me, to make one in so skipping a dialogue. Mar. Will

you

hoist sail, sir? here lies your way. Vio. No, good swabber; I am to hull here a little longer.—Some mollification for your giant, sweet lady.

500 Oli. Tell me your

mind. Vio. I am a messenger.

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

Vio. 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.

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

510 Vio. The rudeness, that hath appear'd in

me,

have I learn’d from my entertainment. What I am, and what I would, are as secret as maiden-head : to your ears, divinity; to any other's, prophanation.

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TWELFTH NIGHT. Butun will draurthe rurtuves termen wie Pictures took your recharmee

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