If music be the food of love, Play on.
But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk And water once a day her chamber round, With eye-offending brine
“It is
“Itperchance is perchance you you yourself yourself were were saved”
saved”
“All is semblative a woman’s part”
“Who’er I woo, myself would be his wife”
“Better a witty Fool than a foolish wit�
"There/is no slander in an allowed fool, though he do/ nothing but rail. Nor no railing in a known discreet/ man, though he do nothing but reprove."
Make me a willow cabin at your gate/ And call upon my soul within the house
He left behind him myself and a sister, both born in an hour.
Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her, and her will is it should be so returned.. O time! thou must untangle this, not I/ It is too hard a knot for me to untie
“Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?”
“Excellent! Why, this is the best fooling when all is done.Now a song.”
“I did impeticos the gratillity, for Malvolio’s nose is no whipstock, my lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses.”
Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon ‘em.
We’ll have the bear again, and we will fool him black and blue
Fie on him, Jezebel
For here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling
I am not weary, and ‘tis long to night. I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes, with the memorials and the things of fame that do renown this city.
Hold, sir, here’s my purse.
“‘Tis not/ for gravity to
“I warrant there’s vinegar and
play at cherry-pit with Satan. Hang/ him, foul collier!”
pepper in ’t.”
“Fellow!” Not “Malvolio,” nor after my degree, but “fellow.”
I am as mad as he, If sad and merry madness equal be.
Nay, come, I prithee. Would thou ’dst be ruled by me!
Nay, then, I must have an ounce or two of this malapert blood from you
Or I am mad, or else this is a dream Let fancy still my sense in Leethe steep.
Nothing that is so is so
Madman, thou errest. I say,there is no darkness but ignorance,
Fool, there was never a man so notoriously abused. I am as well in my wits. Fool as thou art.
Nay, I prithee, put on this gown and this beard; make him believe thou art Sir Topas the curate.
The knave counterfeits well. A good knave.
I’ll follow this good man and go with you/ And, having sworn truth, ever will be true.
Plight me the full assurance of your faith, / That my most jealous and too doubtful soul / May live at peace.
ol r fo ey o o , p ve th s a a e! Al w h d the o h fle f ba
t, s i ve e a m co u h k. So y, yo stoo i lad n m e be
u g ho O t blin m se ! dis cub
dy loo be b If a omb u c cox urt, yo t a h e hur hav e. m
The End