Reading Twelfe Night, or What You Will — William Shakespeare

Direct reading · Original

Section 123

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Du.

Deere Lad, beleeue it;

For they shall yet belye thy happy yeeres,

That say thou art a man: Dianas lip

Is not more smooth, and rubious: thy small pipe

Is as the maidens organ, shrill, and sound,

And all is semblatiue a womans part.

I know thy constellation is right apt

For this affayre: some foure or fiue attend him,

All if you will: for I my selfe am best

When least in companie: prosper well in this,

And thou shalt liue as freely as thy Lord,

To call his fortunes thine.

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