I pity you.
OLIVIA . . .
Have you not set mine honor at the stake, 123
And baited it with all th’ unmuzzled thoughts 124
That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your 125
receiving 126
Enough is shown. A cypress , not a bosom, 127
Hides my heart. So, let me hear you speak. 128
VIOLA
I pity you. 129
OLIVIA
That’s a degree to love. 130
VIOLA
No, not a grize , for ’tis a vulgar proof 131
That very oft we pity enemies. 132
[Act 3 Scene 1]
