5 It is as fat* and fulsome to mine ear, Still so cruel ? Duke. What! to perverseness ? you uncivil lady, come him. I chief: Vio. And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly, To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die. [Following. After him I love, Oli. Ah me, detested! how am I beguild! wrong? • Dull, gross. Oli. Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long ?Call forth the holy father. [Erit an Attendant. Duke. Come away (To Viola. Oli. Whither, my lord ?-Cesario, husband, stay. Duke. Husband?. Oli. Ay, husband; Can be that deny ? Duke. Her husband, sirrah? Vio No, my lord, not I. Oli. Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear, That makes thee strangle thy propriety*: Fear not, Cesario, take thy fortunes up; Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art As great as that thou fear'st.-0, welcome, father! Re-enter Attendant and Priest. Eather, I charge thee, by thy reverence, Priest. A contract of eternal bond of love, grave, I have travelled but two hours. Duke. O, thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be, When time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy caset? Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow, That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow? Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feet, Where thou and I henceforth may never meet. Vio. My lord, I do protest, * Disown thy property. + Skin, 0, do not swear : Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear. Oli. Enter Sir Andrew Ague-cheek, with his head broke. Sir And. For the love of God, a surgeon; send one presently to sir Toby. Oli. What's the matter? Sir And. He has broke my head across, and has given sir Toby a bloody coxcomb too : for the love of God, your help: I had rather than forty pound, I were at home. Oli. Who has done this, sir Andrew? Sir And, The count's gentleman, one Cesario : we took him for a coward, but he's the very devil incardinate. Duke. My gentleman, Cesario? -You broke my head for nothing; and that that I did, I was set on to do't by sir Toby. Vio. Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you: You drew your sword upon me, without cause; But I bespake you fair, and hurt you not. Sir And. If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me; I think, you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb. Enter Sir Toby Belch, drunk, led by the Clown. Here comes sir Toby halting, you shall hear more : but if he had not been in drink, he would have tickled you othergates* than he did. Duke. How now, gentleman ? how is't with you ? Sir To.' That's all one; he has hurt me, aud there's the end on't.-Sot, did'st see Dick surgeon, sot? Clo. O he's drunk, sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyes were set at eight i' the morning. Otherways. P2 Sir To. Then he's a rogue. After a passy-mea. sure, or a pavin*, I hate a drunken rogue. Oli. Away with him: Who hath made this barock with them? Sir And. I'll help you, sir Toby, because we'll be dressed together. Sir To. Will you help an ass-head, and a coxe comb, and a knave? a thin-faced knave, a gull? Oli. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to. (Ereunt Clown, Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew. Enter Sebastian. Seb. I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kins man; But, had it been the brother of my blood, I must have done no less, with wit, and safety. You throw a strange regard upon me, and By that I do perceive it hath offended you ; Pardon me, sweet one, even for the vows We made each other but so late ago. Duke. One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons ? Seb. Antonio, O my dear Antonio ! Ant. Sebastian are you Fear'st thou that, Antonio? Oli Most wonderful ! Seb. Do I stand there? I never had a brother : Nor can there be that deity in my nature, Of here and every where. I had a sister, Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd:Of charityt, what kin are you to me? [To Viola. . Serious dancers. + Out of charity tell me. What countryman? what name? what parent age ? Vio. Of Messaline : Sebastian was my father; A spirit I am indeed; Vio. My father had a mole upon his brow. Vio. And died that day when Viola from her birth Had number'd thirteen years. Seb..0, that record is lively in my soul ! Vio. If nothing lets to make us happy both, [To Olivia. But nature to her bias drew in that. You would have been contracted to a maid; Nor are you therein, by my life, deceiv'd; You are betroth'd hoth to a maid and man. Duke. Be not amaz'd; right noble is his blood. If this be so, as yet the glass seems true, # Hinders. |