monachum; that's as much to say as I wear not motley in my brain.
Good madonna, give me leave to prove you a fool.

OLIVIA.
Can you do it?

CLOWN.
Dexteriously, good madonna.

OLIVIA.
Make your proof.

CLOWN.
I must catechize you for it, madonna; good my mouse of virtue,
answer me.

OLIVIA.
Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I'll bide your proof.

CLOWN.
Good madonna, why mourn'st thou?

OLIVIA.
Good fool, for my brother's death.

CLOWN.
I think his soul is in hell, madonna.

OLIVIA.
I know his soul is in heaven, fool.