Will you make me believe that I am not sent for you?
Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow;
Let me be clear of thee.
Well held out, i' faith! No, I do not know you; nor I am not
sent to you by my lady, to bid you come speak with her; nor your
name is not Master Cesario; nor this is not my nose neither.--
Nothing that is so is so.
I pr'ythee vent thy folly somewhere else. Thou know'st not me.
Vent my folly! he has heard that word of some great man, and
now applies it to a fool. Vent my folly! I am afraid this great
lubber, the world, will prove a cockney.--I pr'ythee now, ungird
thy strangeness, and tell me what I shall vent to my lady. Shall
I vent to her that thou art coming?
I pr'ythee, foolish Greek, depart from me;
There's money for thee; if you tarry longer
I shall give worse payment.
By my troth, thou hast an open hand:--These wise men that
give fools money get themselves a good report after fourteen
Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch,
Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves,
Where manners ne'er were preach'd! Out of my sight!
Be not offended, dear Cesario!--
Rudesby, be gone!--I pr'ythee, gentle friend,
Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway
In this uncivil and unjust extent
Against thy peace. Go with me to my house,
And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks
This ruffian hath botch'd up, that thou thereby
Mayst smile at this: thou shalt not choose but go;
Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me,
He started one poor heart of mine in thee.
What relish is in this? how runs the stream?
Or I am mad/ or else this is a dream:--
Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;
If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!
Nay, come, I pr'ythee. Would thou'dst be ruled by me!