Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare
page 22 of 152 (14%)
page 22 of 152 (14%)
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God bless thee, lady! OLIVIA. Take the fool away. CLOWN. Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady. OLIVIA. Go to, you're a dry fool; I'll no more of you: besides, you grow dishonest. CLOWN. Two faults, madonna, that drink and good counsel will amend; for, give the dry fool drink, then is the fool not dry: bid the dishonest man mend himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if he cannot, let the botcher mend him. Any thing that's mended is but patch'd; virtue that transgresses is but patch'd with sin; and sin that amends is but patch'd with virtue. If that this simple syllogism will serve, so; if it will not, what remedy? As there is no true cuckold but calamity, so beauty's a flower. The lady bade take away the fool; therefore, I say again, take her away. OLIVIA. Sir, I bade them take away you. CLOWN. Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, cucullus non facit |
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