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: There's for thy pains. Feste
: No pains, sir: I take pleasure in singing, sir. Orsino
: I'll pay thy pleasure then. Feste
: Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or another.
: Dost thou live by thy music, friend? Feste
: No, sir, I live by the church. Cesario
: Art thou a churchman? Feste
: No such matter, sir: I do live by the church; for I do live at my house, and my house doth stand by the church.
: Good madonna, why mournest thou? Olivia
: Good fool, for my brother's death. Feste
: I think his soul is in hell, madonna. Olivia
: I know his soul is in heaven, fool. Feste
: The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your brother's soul being in heaven.
: And thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.
: I prithee, vent thy folly somewhere else: Thou know'st not me. Feste
: Vent my folly! Tell me what I shall vent to my lady: shall I vent to her that thou art coming?