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Oli. Let him approach: call in my gentlewoman. Oli. A comfortable doctrine, and much may be
Vio. In Orsino's bosom.
Oli. In his bosom? In what chapter of his bosom?
Vio. To answer by the method, in the first of Oli. Give me ry veil : come, throw it o'er my his heart, face;
Oli. 0, I have read it; it is heresy. Have you We'll once inore hear Orsino's embassy,
no more to say ?
Vio. Good madam, let me see your face.
Oli. Have you any commission from your lord to
negociate with my face? you are now out of your Vio. The honourable lady of the house, which text: but we will draw the curtain, and show you is she?
the picture. Look you, sir, such a one as I was Oli. Speak to me, I shall answer for her. Your this present :: is't not well done? [Unveiling. will ?
Vio. Excellently done, if God did all. Vio. Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable
Oli. ”Tis in grain, sir; 'twill endure wind and beauty,«I pray you, tell me, if this be the lady of weather. the house, for I never saw her: I would be loath to
Vio. 'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and cast away my speech; for, besides that it is excel
white Jently well penn'd, I have taken great pains to con Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on: it, Good beauties, let me sustain no scorn; I am Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive, very comptible,' even to the least sinister usage.
If you will lead these graces to the grave, Oli. Whence came you, sir ?
And leave the world no copy. Vio. I can say little more than I have studied,
Oli. O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will and that question's out of my part. Good gentle give out 'divers schedules of my beauty: it shall be one, give me modest assurance, if you be the lady inventoried; and every particle, and utensil, la. of the house, that I may proceed in my speech. belled to my will: as, item, two lips indifferent red; Oli. Are you a comedian?
item, two grey eyes, with lids to them; item, one Vio. No, my profound heart: and yet, by the neck, one chin, and so forth. Were you sent very fangs of malice, I swear, I am not that I play, hither to 'praise me ? Are you the lady of the house?
Vio. I see you what you are: you are too proud: Oli, If I do not usurp myself, I am.
But, if you were the devil, you are sair. Vio. Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp My lord and master loves you; 0, such love yourself; for what is yours to bestow, is not yours Could but be recompens'd, though you were to reserve. But this is from my commission: I will
crown'd on with my speech in your praise, and then show The nonpareil of beauty! you the heart of my message.
How does he love me? Oli. Come to what is important in't: I forgive
Vio. With adorations, with fertile tears, you the praise.
With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire. Vio, Alas, I took great pains to study it, and Oli. Your lord does know my mind, I cannot 'tis poetical.
love him: oli, It is the more like to be feigned; I pray you Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble, keep it in. I heard, you were salicy at my gates : for great estate, of fresh and stainless youth; and allowed your approach, rather to wonder at In voices well divulg'd, free, learn'd, and valiant, you than to hear you. If you be not mad, be And, in dimension, and the shape of nature, gone; if you have reason, he brief: 'tis not that A gracious person? but yet I cannot love him ; time of moon with me, to make one in so skipping He might have took his answer long ago. a dialogue.
Vio. If I did love you in my master's flame, Mar. Will you hoist sail, sir ? here lies your way: With such a suffering such a deadly life,
Vio. No, good swabber: I am to húll here a In your denial I would find no sense, little longer.-Some mollisication for your giant,? I would not understand it. sweet lady,
Why, what would you Oli. Tell me your mind.
Vio. Make me a willow cabin at your gate,
And call upon my soul within the house ;
Holla your name to the reverberate hills,
But you should pity me. Oli. Yet you began rudely. What are you ? oli. You might do much: What is your parentwhat would you ?
Vlo. The rudeness that hath appear'd in me, have I learn'd from my entertainment. What I am, I am a gentleman.
Vio. Above my fortunes, yet my state is well: and what I would, are as secret as maidenhead: 10 Oli.
Get you to your lord ; your ears, divinity; to any other's, profanation. I cannot love him: let him send no more; Oli
, Give us the place alone: we will hear this Unless, perchance, you come to me again, divinity (Exit Maris. ] Now; sir, what is your text? To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well :
Vio. Most sweet lady, (1) Accountable.
(3) Presents. (4) Blended, mixed together, (2) It appears from several parts of this play,
(5) Well spoken of by the world. that the original actress of Maria was very short,
(6) Cantos, verses, (7) Echoing.
I thank you for your pains: spend this for me. Inot but call fair: she is drowned already, sir, with
Vio. I am no fee'd post," lady; keep your purse; salt water, though I seem to drown her remem
Seb. O, good Antonio, forgive me your trouble. Piae'd in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty. (Exit. Ant. If you will not murder me for my love, let Oli. What is your parentage ?
me be ycur servant. Above my fortunes, yet my stale is well :
Seb. If you will not undo what you have done, I am a gentleman. -I'll be sworn thou art ; that is, kisi him whom you have recovered, desire Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit, it not. Fare ye well at once: my bosom is full of Do give thee five-fold blazon: 2-Not too fast :- kindness; and I am yet so near the manners of my soft! soft!
mother, that upon the least occasion more, mine Unless the master were the man.-How now? eyes will tell tales of me. I am bound to the Eren so quickly may one catch the plague ? count Orsino's court : farewell.
(Exit. Meihinks, I feel this youth's perfections,
Ant. The gentleness of all the gods go with thee! Wiih an invisible and subtle stealth,
I have many enemies in Orsino's court, To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be. Else would I very shortly see thee there : What, ho, Malvolio !
But, come what may. I do adore thee so,
That danger shall seem sport, and I will go. (Exit. Re-enter Malvolio.
SCENE II.A street. Enter Viola; Malvolio Ma.
Here, madam, at your service. Oli. Run after that same peevish messenger,
following: The county's: man: he left this ring behind him, Mal. Were not you even now with the countess Would I, or not: tell him, I'll none of it. Olivia ? Desire him not to flatter with his lord,
Vio. Even now, sir; on a moderate pace I have Nor hold him up with hopes; I am not for him : since arrived but hithér. If that the youth will come this way to-morrow, Mal. She returns this ring to you, sir ; you might I'll give him reasons for't. Hie thee, Malvolio. have saved me my pains, to have taken it away Val. Madam, I will.
(Exil. yourself. She adds moreover, that you should put Oli. I do I know not what: and fear to find your lord into a desperate assurance she will none Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind. of him : and one thing more; that you be rever Fate, show thy force: ourselves we do not owe ; so hardy to come again in his affairs, unless it be to What is decreed, must be; and be this so! [Exit. report your lord's taking of this. Receive it so.
Vio. She took the ring of me; I'll none of it.
Mal. Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her;
and her will is, it should be so returned: if it be ACT II. worth stooping for, there it lies in your eye; if not, .
[Erit. SCENE I.—The sea-coast. Enter Antonio and be it his that finds it. Sebastian.
Vio. I left no ring with her: what means this lady?
Fortune forbid, my outside have not charm'd her! Ant. Will you stay no longer? nor will you not, She made good view of me; indeed, so much, that I go with you?
That, sure, methought, her eyes had lost her Seb. By your patience, no: my stars shine dark
tongue, ly over me: the malignancy of my fate might, For she did speak in starts distractedly. perhaps, distemper yours; therefore I shall crave She loves me, sure; the cunning of her passian of you your leave, that I may bear my evils alone : Invites me in this churlish messenger. it were a bad recompense for your love, to lay any None of my lord's ring! why, he sent her none. of them on you.
I am the man ;--if it be so (as 'tis,) Ant. Let me yet know of you, whither you are Poor lady, she were better love a dream. bound.
Disguise, 1 see, thou art a wickedness, Seb. No, 'sooth, sir; my determinate voyage is Wherein the pregnante enemy does much. mere extravagancy. But I perceive in you so ex- How easy is it, for the proper-false" cellent a touch of modesty, that you will not extort In women's waxen hearts to set their forms! from me what I am willing to keep in ; therefore Alas! our frailty is the cause, not we; it charges me in manners the rather to express) For, such as we are made of, such we be. myself. You must know of me then, Antonio, my How will this fadge ? My master loves her dearly; name is Sebastian, which I called Rodrigo ; my And I, poor monster, fond as much on him; father was that Sebastian of Messaline, whom 1 And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me : know, you have heard of: he left behind him, What will become of this ! As I am man, myself, and a sister, both born in an hour. If the My state is desperate for my master's love; heavens had been pleased, 'would we had so As I am woman, now alas the day! ended! but you, sir, altered that; for, some hour What thristless sighs shall poor Vlivia breathe ? before you took me from the breach of the sea, was o time, thou must untangle this, not I; my sister drowned.
It is too hard a knot for me to untie. [Exil. Int. Alas, the day!
SCENE III.A room in Olivia's house. Enter Seb. A lady, sir, though it was said she much resembled me, was yet of many accounted beauti
Sir Toby Belch, and Sir Andrew Ague-cheek. ful: but, though I could not, with such estimable Sir To. Approach, sir Andrew: not to be a-bed Wonder, overlar believe that, yet thus far I will after midnight, is to be up betimes; and diluculo boldly publish her, she bore a mind that envy could surgere, thou know'st,
(!) Messenger. (2) Proclamation of gentility. (6) Dexterous, ready fiend. 13) Count. (4) Own, possess.
(5) Reveal. (7) Fair deceiver. (8) Suit,
Sir And. Nay, by my troth, I know not: but I Sir And. Most certain : let our catch be, Thou know, to be up late, is to be up late.
knave. Sir To. A false conclusion; I hate it as an un- Clo. Hold thy peace, thou knave, knight ? I shall filled can: to be up after midnight, and to go to be constrain'd in'l to call thee knave, knight. bed then, is early; so that, to go to bed after mid- Sir And, 'Tis not the first time I have constrain'd night, is to go to bed betimes. Do not our lives one to call me knave. Begin, fool; it begins, consist of the four elements ?
Hold thy peace: Sir And, 'Faith, so they say; but, I think, it Clo. I shall never begin, if I hold my peace. rather consists of eating and drinking.
Sir And. Good, i'laith! Come, begin. Sir To. Thou art a scholar; let us therefore eat
[They sing a catch. and drink.-Maria, I say!-a stoop of wine !
Mar. What a catterwauling do you keep here ! Sir And. Here comes the fool, i'faith.
If my lady have not called up her steward, MalvoClo. How now, my hearts ? Did you never see lio, and bid him turn you out of doors, never trust the picture of we three?"
Sir To. Welcome, ass. Now let's have a catch. Sir To. My lady's a Cataian, we are politicians;
Sir And. By my troth, the tool has an excellent Malvolio's a Peg-a-Ramsey,' and Three merry men breast.? I had rather than forty shillings I had such we be. Am not I consanguineous ? am I not of her a leg; and so sweet a breath to sing, as the fool blood ? Tilly-valley, lady! There dwelt a man in has. In sooth, thou wast in very gracious fooling Babylon, lazły, lady!
(Singing. last night, when thou spokest of Pigrogromitus, of. Clo. Beshrew me, the knight's in admirable the Vapians passing the equinoctial of Qucubus; fooling; "twas very good, i Maith. I sent thee sixpence for Sir And. Ay, he does well enough, if he be disthy leman. hadst it?
posed, and so do I too; he does it with a better Clo. I did impeticos thy gratillity;" for Malvo-grace, but I do it more natural. iio's nose is no whipstock: my lady has a white Sir To. O, the twelfth day of December,hand, and the myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses.
[Singing Sir And. Excellent! Why, this is the best fool- Mar. For the love of God, peace. ing, when all's done. Now, a song. Sir To. Come on; there is sixpence for you:
Enter Malvolio. let's have a song.
Sir And. There's a testril of me too: if one Mal. My masters, are you mad? or what are knight give a
you ? Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty, but Clo. Would you have a love-song, or a song of io gabble like tinkers at this time of night? Do good life?
ye make an ale-house of my lady's house, that ye Sir To. A love-song, a love-song.
squeak out your coziers' catches without any mitiSir And. Ay, ay; I'care not for good life. gation or remorse of voice? Is there no respect of SONG.
place, persons, nor time, in you?
Sir To. We did keep time, sir, in our catches. Clo. O mistress mine, where are you roaming ? Sneck up !!
O, stay and hear; your true love's coming, Mal, Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My
That can sing both high and low : lady bade me tell you, that, though she harbours Trip no further, pretty sweeling ;
you as her kinsman, she's nothing allied to your Journeys end in lorers' meeting,
|disorders. If you can separate yourself and your Every wise man's son doth know. misdemcanours, you are welcome to the house; if Sir And. Excellent good, i'faith.
not, an it would please you to take leave of her, Sir To. Good, good.
she is very willing to bid you farewell. Clo. What is love ? 'lis not hereafter;
Sir To. Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs
be gone. Present mirth hath present laughter;. What's to come, is still unsure :
Mar. Nay, good sir Toby, In delay there lies no plenty;
Clo. His eyes do show his days are almost done.
Mal, Is't even so ?
Sir To. But I will never die.
Clo. Sir Toby, there you lie.
Mal. This is much credit to you. knight.
Sir To. Shall I bid him
[Singing. Sir To. A contagious breath.
Clo. What an if you do? Sir And. Very sweet and contagious, i'faith.
Sir To. Shall I bid him go, and spare not ? Sir To. To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in con
Clo. O no, no, no, no, you dare not. tagion. But shall we make the welkin dance: in
Sir To. Out o'time? 'sir, ye lie.-Art any more deed? Shall we rouse the night-owl in a catch, than a steward ? Dost thou think, because thou art that will draw three souls out of one weaver? shall virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale? we do that?
Clo. Yes, by Saint Anne; and ginger shall be Sir And. An you love me, let's do't: I am doghoti the mouth too, at a catch.
Sir To. Thou’rt i' the right.-Go, sir, rub your Clo. By'r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch chain with crums:-a stoop of wine, Maria! well.
Mal. Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady's fa
vour at any thing more than contempt, you would (1) Loggerheads be. (2) Voice. (3) Mistress. (4) I did impetticoat thy gratuity,
(8) Equivalent to filly fally, shilly shally, (5) Drink till the sky turns round.
(9) Cobblers. (10) Hang yourself. (6) Romancer. (7) Name of an old song. (11) Stewards anciently wore a chain.
not give means for this uncivil rule;' she shalls. Sir To. Send for money, knight; if thou hast know of it, by this hand.
[Exit. her not i' the end, call me Cut." Mar. Go shake your ears.
Sir And. If I do not, never trust me, take it how Sir And. 'Twere as good a deed as to drink you will.
Sir To. Come, come ; I'll go burn some sack, when a man's a hungry, to challenge him to the feld; and then to break promise with him, and tis too late to go to bed now: come, knight; come,
[Exeunt. make a fool of him.
Sir To. Do'l, knight; I'll write thee a chal- SCENE IV-A rooni in the Duke's palace. En. lenge; or I'll deliver thy indignation to him by ter Duke, Viola, Curio, and others. word of mouth. Mar. Sweet sir Toby, be patient for to-night;
Duke. Give me some music: Now, good mor
row, friends :since the youth of the count's was to-day with my lady, she is much out of quiet. For monsieur Mal. Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song, volio, let me alone with him : if I do not gull him That old and antique song we heard last night; into á nay-word, 2 and make him a common recrea: More than light airs and recollected terms,
Methought, it did relieve my passion much; tion, do not think I have wit enough to lie straight of these most brisk and giddy-paced times :in my bed : I know I can do it. Sir To. Possess us," possess us; tell us some
Come, but one verse.
Cur. He is not here, so please your lordship, thing of him. ur. Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of Pu- that should sing it.
Duke, Who was it ? ritan. Sir And. O, if I thought that, I'd beat him like
Cur. Feste, the jester, my lord; a fool, that the
lady Olivia's father took much delight in : he is a dog.
about the house. Sir To. What, for being a Puritan? thy exqui
Duke. Seek him out, and play the tune the while. site reason, dear knight? Sir And. I have no exquisite reason for’t, but I Come hither, boy ; If ever thou shalt love,
[Èrit Curio.Music. have reason good enough. Mar. The devil a Puritan that he is, or any thing For, such as I am, all true lovers are;
In the sweet pangs of it remember me: constantly but a time-pleaser; an affectioned* ass, Unstaid and skittish in all motions else, that cons state without book, and utters it by great Save, in the constant image of the creature swarths: the best persuaded of himself, so cramground of faith, that all that look on him, love him; Where love is thron'd. m:d, as he thinks, with excellencies, that it is his That is belov’d.-How dost thou like this tune ?
Vio. It gives a very echo to the seat and on that vice in him will my revenge find nola
Duke. Thou dost speak masterly: ble cause to work. Sir To. What wilt thou do ?
My life upon't, young though thou art, thine eye Mar. I will drop in his way some obscure epis-Hath it not, boy?
Hath stay'd upon some favour that it loves; tles of love; wherein, by the colour of his beard, the
Vio shape of his leg, the manner of his gait, the express
A little, by your favour,
Duke. What kind of woman is't ? sure of his eye, forehead, and complexion, he shall find himself most feelingly personated : I can write
Of your complexion.
Duke. She is not worth thee then. What years, very like my lady, your nicce; on a forgotten mat
i'faith? ter we can hardly make distinction of our hands. Sir To. Excellent! I smell a device.
Vio. About your years, my lord. Sir And. I hav't in my nose too.
Duke. Too old, by heaven; Let still the womar Sir To. He shall think, by the letters that thou An elder than herself; so wears she to him,
take wilt drop, that they come from my niece, and that So sways she level in her husband's heart; she is in love with him. Mar. My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,
For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,
More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn,
I think it well, my lord. Mar. Ass, I doubt not.
Duke. Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Sir Ind. 0, 'twill be admirable. Mar. Sport royal, I warrant you; I know, my For women are as roses; whose fair flower,
Or thy affection cannot hold the bent : physic will work with him. I will plant you two, Being once display'd, doth fall that very hour. and let the fool make a third, where he shall find the letter; observe his construction of it. For this To die, even when they to perfection grow !
Vio. And so they are: alas, that they are so; ruizht, to bed, and dream on the event. Farewell.
Re-enter Curio, and Clown. Sir To. Good night, Penthesilea.
Duke. O fellow, come, the song we had last Sir And. Before me, she's a good wench.
nicht:Sir To. She's a beagle, true-bred, and one that Mark it, Cesario; it is old and plain : adores me; What o' that? Sir Ant. I was adored once too.
The spinsters and the knitters in the sun
And the free maids, that weave their thread with: Sir To. Let's to bed, knight.-Thou hadst need bones, send for more money. Sir And. If I cannot recover your niece, I am a And dallies with the innocence of love,
Do use to chaunt it; it is silly sooth,0 foul way out.
Like the old age." (1) Method of life. (2) By-word. (3) Inform us. (6) Amazon. (7) Horse. (8) Countenance. (4) Affected.
(9) Lace makers. .(10) Simple truth. (5) The row of grass left by a mower.
?11) Times of simplicity.
Co. Are you ready, sir?
And what's her history? Duke. Ay; pr’ythee, sing.
(Music. Vio. A blank, my lord: She never told her love,
But let concealinent, like a worm i' the bud,
Feed on her damask cheek : she pin'd in thought; Clo. Come away, come away, dealh,
And, with a green and yellow melancholy,
She sat like patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief. Was not this love, indeed ? I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
We men may say more, swear more: but, indeed, My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,
Our shows are more than will ; for still we prove O, prepare it ;
Much in our vows, but little in our love. My part of death no one so true
Duke. But died ihy sister of her love, my boy? Did share il.
Vio. I am all the daughters of my father's house, Not a flower, not a flower sweet,
And all the brothers too ;-and yet I know not :On my black coffin let there be strown;
Sir, shall I to this lady?'
Ay, that's the theme. My poor corpse, where my bones shall be To her in haste ; give her this jewel; say, throun;
My love can give no place, bide no denay: 3 A thousand thousand sighs to save,
(Exeunt. Lay me, 0, where Sad true lover ne'er find my grave,
SCENE V.-Olivia's Garden. Enler Sir Toby To weep there.
Belch, Sir Andrew Ague-cheek, and Fabian. Duke. There's for thy pains.
Sir To. Come thy ways, signior Fabian. Clo. No pains, sir; I take pleasure in singing, sir.
Fab. Nay, I'll come; if I lose a scruple of this Duke. I'll pay thy pleasure then.
sport, let me be boiled to death with melancholy; Clo. Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid, one
Sir To. Would'st thou not be glad to have the time or another.
niggardly rascally sheep-biter come by some notaDuke. Give me now leave to leave thee.
ble shame? Clo. Now, the melancholy god protect thee;
Fab. I would exult, man: you know, he brought and the tailor make thy doublet of changeable tal me out of favour with my lady, about a bear-baitfeta, for thy mind is a very opal'— I would have ing here. men of such constancy put to sea, that their busi
Sir To. To anger him, we'll have the bear again; ness might be every thing, and their intent every and we will fool him black and blue :-Shall we
for that's it, that always makes a good not, sir Andrew ? voyage of nothing.--Farewell.
Sir And. An we do not, it is pity of our lives. Duke. Let all the rest give place. -
Enter Maria, (Exeunt Curio and aliendants.
Once more, Cesario, Sir To. Here comes the little villain :-How Get thee to yon' same sovereign cruelty :
now, my nettle of India. Tell her, my love, more noble than the world, Mar. "Get ye all three into the box-tree: MalPrizes not quantity of dirty lands;
volio's coming down this walk; he has been yonThe parts that fortune hath bestow'd upon her, der i' the sun, practising behaviour to his own Te'l her, I hold as giddily as fortunc;
shadow, this half hour : observe him, for the love But 'tis that miracle, and queen of gems, of mockery; for, I know, this letter will make a That nature pranks? her in, attracts my soul. contemplative idiot of him. Close, in the name of Vio. But, if she cannot love you, sir?
jesting! (The men hide themselves.] Lie thou Duke. I cannot be so answer'd.
there ; [throws doron a leller) for here comes the Vio.
"Sooth, but you must. trout that must be caught with tickling. Say, that some lady, as, perhaps, there is,
(Erit Maria, Hath for your love as great a pang of heart
Enter Malvolio. As you have for Olivia: you cannot love her: You tell her so; Must she not then be answer'd ? Mal. 'Tis but fortune ; all is fortune. Maria Duke. There's is no woman's sides,
once told me, she did aifect me: and I have heard Can 'bide the beating of so strong a passion hersell come thus near, that, should she fancy, it As love doth give my heart: no woman's heart should be one of my complexion. Besides, she uses So big, to hold so much ; they lack retention. me with a more exalted respect, than any one else Alas, their love may be call'd appetite,
that follows her. What should'I think on't ? No motion of the liver, but the palate,
Sir To. Here's an over-weening rogue! That suffer surfeit, cloyment, and revolt;
Fab. O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare But mine is all as hungry as the sea,
turkey-cock of him; how he jetss under his adAnd can digest as much: make no compare vanced plumes ! Between that love a woman can bear me,
Sir And. 'Slight, I could so beat the rogue :And that I owe Olivia.
Sir To. Peace, 1 say. Vio,
Ay, but I know,- Mal. To be count Malvolio !-
Sir To. Ah, rogue !
Sir To. Peace, peace!
Mal. There is example for't; the lady of the My father had a daughter lov'd a man,
strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe. As it might be, perhaps, were I woman,
Sir And. Fie on him, Jezebel ! I should your lordship.
Fab. O, peace! now he's deeply in ; look how
imagination blows him! (1) A precious stone of all colours. (2) Decks. (3) Denial.
(4) Love. (5) Struts.
(6) Puffs him up