“Clown. No pains, sir; I take pleasure in singing, sir. DUKE. I'll pay thy pleasure, then. Clown. Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid one time or another. DUKE. Give me now leave to leave thee. Clown. Now the melancholy god protect thee; and the tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffeta, for thy mind is a very opal!—I would have men of such constancy put to sea, that their business might be everything, and their intent everywhere; for that's it that always makes a good voyage of nothing.—Farewell.
DUKE. Let all the rest give place.— [Exeunt CURIO and Attendants.]
Once more, Cesario, Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty: Tell her my love, more noble than the world,”