The sound of the clicketting foxes was unmistakable.

I am slightly skeptical about the neatness of these edifyings in the play. Olivia remains my best positive case, Malvolio my best negative. Too proud, as Viola says, Olivia is humbled by both Feste and Viola, her twin fools, but more obviously and more frequently by herself, until finally she is blessed with the joy of undeserved grace and love. Malvolio will not learn that his madness is everyone's madness in Illyria.

I like the way Brant herself describes the book as crimance... a perfect genre description.

Hast thou nor shame, nor modesty, nor fear? / That thus thou struttest in the face of God, / Spreading thy peacock's feathers, with their gleam?