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It is as fat* and fulsome to mine ear,
Still so cruel ?
Duke. What! to perverseness ? you uncivil lady,
Vio. And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly, To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.
After him I love,
Oli. Ah me, detested! how am I beguild!
• Dull, gross.
Oli. Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long ?Call forth the holy father. [Erit an Attendant. Duke.
(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.
0, do not swear : Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear.
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.
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.
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
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
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,