Who was it?

CURIO.
Feste, the jester, my lord; a fool that the lady Olivia's father
took much delight in. He is about the house.

DUKE.
Go seek him out, and play the tune the while.

[Exit CURIO. Music plays]

Come hither, boy. If ever thou shalt love,
In the sweet pangs of it remember me;
For such as I am all true lovers are,
Unstaid and skittish in all motions else,
Save in the constant image of the creature
That is belov'd. How dost thou like this tune?

VIOLA.
It gives a very echo to the seat
Where Love is thron'd.

DUKE.
Thou dost speak masterly:
My life upon 't, young though thou art, thine eye
Hath stay'd upon some favour that it loves;
Hath it not, boy?

VIOLA.
A little, by your favour.