God bless thee, lady!

Feste
—God bless thee, lady!
Olivia
Take the Fool away.
Feste
Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the Lady.
Olivia
Go to, you're a dry Fool. I'll no more of you.
Besides, you grow dishonest.
Feste
Two faults, madonna, that drink and good counsel
will amend. For give the dry Fool drink, then is
the Fool not dry. Bid the dishonest man mend
himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if he
cannot, let the botcher mend him. Anything that's
mended is but patched; virtue that transgresses is
but patched with sin, and sin that amends is but
patched with virtue. If that this simple syllogism
will serve, so; if it will not, what remedy? As there is
no true cuckold but calamity, so beauty's a flower.
The Lady bade take away the Fool. Therefore, I say
again, take her away.
Olivia
Sir, I bade them take away you.
Feste
Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, cucullus
non facit monachum. That's as much to say as, I
wear not motley in my brain.