Twelfth Night, Act 4, Scene 3

This is the air; that is the glorious sun, This pearl she gave me, I do feel’t and see’t, And though ’tis wonder that enwraps me thus, Yet ’tis not madness. Where’s Antonio, then? I could not find him at the Elephant, Yet there he was, and there I found this credit, That he did range the town to seek me out. His counsel now might do me golden service. For though my soul disputes well with my sense That this may be some error, but no madness, Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune So far exceed all instance, all discourse, That I am ready to distrust mine eyes And wrangle with my reason that persuades me To any other trust but that I am mad, Or else the lady’s mad; yet if ’twere so, She could not sway her house, command her followers, Take and give back affairs and their dispatch, With such a smooth, discreet, and stable bearing As I perceive she does. There’s something in’t That is deceivable. But here the lady comes.

This is the air; that is the glorious sun. This is the pearl she gave me — I can feel it and see it. And though it's a wonder that wraps me up like this, still it isn't madness. Where's Antonio, then? I couldn't find him at the Elephant, but he had been there, and there I learned this much to trust: that he had gone all over the town looking for me. His advice right now would be worth gold to me. For though my soul argues it out well with my senses that this may be some mistake, but not madness, still this accident and flood of good fortune goes so far beyond every example, every explanation, that I'm ready to distrust my own eyes and quarrel with my reason, which tries to convince me of anything rather than that I am mad — or else the lady is mad. Yet if that were so, she couldn't run her household, give orders to her servants, take in business and send it back settled, with the smooth, careful, steady manner I see she has. There's something in all this that can deceive. But here comes the lady.

Blame not this haste of mine. If you mean well, Now go with me and with this holy man Into the chantry by: there, before him And underneath that consecrated roof, Plight me the full assurance of your faith, That my most jealous and too doubtful soul May live at peace. He shall conceal it Whiles you are willing it shall come to note, What time we will our celebration keep According to my birth. What do you say?

Don't blame me for hurrying like this. If your intentions are good, come with me now, and with this holy man, into the chapel nearby. There, in front of him and under that blessed roof, promise me the full assurance of your love, so that my very anxious and far too doubtful soul can live in peace. He will keep it secret until you're willing for it to be made known, and then we'll hold our wedding celebration as suits my rank. What do you say?

I’ll follow this good man, and go with you, And having sworn truth, ever will be true.

I'll follow this good man, and go with you, and having sworn to be faithful, I will always be faithful.

Then lead the way, good father, and heavens so shine, That they may fairly note this act of mine!

Then lead the way, good father — and may the heavens shine so brightly that they look kindly on what I'm doing!