82

TWELFTH-NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL.

Act III.

Vio. I warrant, thou art a merry fellow, and [Exit. carest for nothing.

Jove, I thank thee.-I will smile; I will do every thing that thou wilt have me.

Clo. Not so, sir, I do care for something: but Fab. I will not give my part of this sport for a in my conscience, sir, I do not care for you; if that pension of thousands to be paid from the Sophy. Sir To. I could marry this wench for this de-be to care for nothing, sir, I would it would make vice.

Sir And. So could I too.

Sir To. And ask no other dowry with her, but such another jest.

Enter Maria.

Sir And. Nor I neither.

Fab. Here comes my noble gull-catcher.
Sir To. Wilt thou set thy foot of my neck?
Sir And. Or o' mine either?

Sir To. Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip,' and become thy bond-slave?

Sir And. I'faith, or I either.

Sir To. Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that, when the image of it leaves him, he must run mad.

you invisible.

Vio. Art not thou the lady Olivia's fool?

Clo. No, indeed, sir; the lady Olivia has no folly: she will keep no fool, sir, till she be married; and fools are as like husbands, as pilchards are to herrings, the husband's the bigger; I am, indeed, not her fool, but her corrupter of words.

Vio. I saw thee late at the count Orsino's. Clo. Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb, like the sun; it shines every where. I would be sorry,, sir, but the fool should be as oft with your master, as with my mistress: I think, I saw your wisdom there.

Vio. Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee. Hold, there's expenses for thee.

Clo. Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send thee a beard!

Vio. By my troth, I'll tell thee; I am almost sick for one; though I would not have it grow on my chin. Is thy lady within?

Mar. Nay, but say true; does it work upon him? Sir To. Like aqua-vitæ with a midwife. Mar. If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark his first approach before my lady: he will come to her in yellow stockings, and 'tis a colour she abhors; and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests; and he will smile upon her, which will now to be so unsuitable to her disposition, being addicted to a melancholy as she is, that it cannot but turn him into a' notable contempt: if you will see it,

follow me.

Sir To. To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit!

Sir And. I'll make one too.

ACT III.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.—Olivia's Garden. Enter Viola,

Clown with a tabor.

Clo. Would not a pair of these have bred, sir?
Vio. Yes, being kept together, and put to use.
Clo. I would play lord Pandarus+ of Phrygia, sir,
bring a Cressida to this Troilus.

Vio. I understand you, sir; 'tis well begg'd.
Clo. The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, beg-
ging but a beggar; Cressida was a beggar. My
lady is within, sir. I will construe to them whence
you come: who you are, and what you would, are
out of my welkin: I might say, element; but the
[Exit.
word is over-worn.

Vio. This fellow's wise enough to play the fool,
And, to do that well, craves a kind of wit:
He must observe their mood on whom he jests,
The quality of persons, and the time;
That comes before his eye. This is a practice,
and And, like the haggard, check at every feather
As full of labour as a wise man's art:
For folly, that he wisely shows, is fit;
But wise men, folly-fallen, quite taint their wit.
Enter Sir Toby Belch and Sir Andrew Ague-
cheek.

Vio. Save thee, friend, and thy music: Dost thou live by thy tabor?

Clo. No, sir, I live by the church.

Vio. Art thou a churchman?

Clo. No such matter, sir; I do live by the church: for do live at my house, and my house doth stand by the church.

Vio. So thou may'st say, the king lies? by a beggar, if a beggar dwell near him: or, the church stands by thy tabor, if thy tabor stand by.the church.

Sir To. Save you, gentleman.
Vio. And you, sir.

Sir And. Dieu vous garde, monsieur.
Vio. Et vous aussi: votre serviteur.

Sir And. I hope, sir, you are; and I am yours. Sir To. Will you encounter the house? my Clo. You have said, sir.-To see this age!-Aniece is desirous you should enter, if your trade be sentence is but a cheveril3 glove to a good wit; to her. How quickly the wrong side may be turned outward!

Vio. Nay, that's certain; they, that dally nicely with words, may quickly make them wanton.

Clo. I would therefore, my sister had had no name, sir.

Vio. Why, man?

Clo. Why, sir, her name's a word; and to dally with that word, might make my sister wanton: But, indeed, words are very rascals, since bonds disgraced them.

Vio. Thy reason, man?

Clo. Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words; and words are grown so false, I am loath to prove reason with them.

A boy's diversion three and tip.
(3) Kid.
Dwells.

Vio. I am bound to your niece, sir: I mean, she is the list of my voyage.

Sir To. Taste your legs, sir, put them to motion. Vio. My legs do better understand me, sir, than understand what you mean by bidding me taste my legs.

I

Sir To. I mean, to go, sir, to enter.
Vio. I will answer you with gait and entrance:
But we are prevented.

Enter Olivia and Maria.

Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain odours on you!

Sir And. That youth's a rare courtier! Rain odours! well.

(4) See the play of Troilus and Cressida.
(5) A hawk not well trained. (6) Bound, limit,

Vio. My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your A murd'rous guilt shows not itself more soon
own most pregnant' and vouchsafed ear.
Sir And. Odours, pregnant, and vouchsafed:-Cesario, by the roses of the spring,
I'll get 'em all three ready.

Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon.

Oli. Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing.

[Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Maria. Give me your hand, sir.

Vio. My duty, madam, and most humble service.
Oli. What is your name?

Vio. Cæsario is your servant's name, fair princess.
Oli. My servant, sir! 'Twas never merry world,
Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment:
You are servant to the count Orsino, youth.

Vio. And he is yours, and his must needs be
yours;

Your servant's servant is your servant, madam.
Oli. For him, I think not on him: for his thoughts,
Would they were blanks, rather than fill'd with me!
Vio. Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts
On his behalf:-

Oli.

O, by your leave, I pray you;
I bade you never speak again of him:
But, would you undertake another suit,
I had rather hear you to solicit that,
Than music from the spheres.

Vio.

Dear lady,

Oli. Give me leave, I beseech you: I did send,
After the last enchantment you did here,
A ring in chase of you; so did I abuse
Myself, my servant, and, I fear me, you:
Under your hard construction must I sit,
To force that on you, in a shameful cunning,
Which you knew none of yours: What might you
think?

Have you not set mine honour at the stake,
And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts
That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your

receiving

Enough is shown; a cyprus, not a bosom,
Hides my poor heart: So let me hear you speak.
Vio. I pity you.

Oli. That's a degree to love.

Vio. No, not a grise; for 'tis a vulgar proof, That very oft we pity enemies.

Oli. Why, then, methinks, 'tis time to

again:

O world, how apt the poor are to be proud!
If one should be a prey, how much the better
To fall before the lion, than the wolf?

smile

[Clock strikes.
The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.-
Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you:
And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest,
Your wife is like to reap a proper man:
There lies your way, due west.

Vio.

Then westward-hoe:

Grace, and good disposition 'tend your ladyship!
You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?
Oli. Stay:

I pr'ythee, tell me, what thou think'st of me.
Vio. That you do think, you are not what you

are.

Oli. If I think so, I think the same of you.
Vio. Then think you right; I am not what I am.
Oli. I would, you were as I would have you be!
Vio. Would it be better, madam, than I am,
I wish it might; for now I am your fool.

Oli. O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
In the contempt and anger of his lip!

(1) Ready. (2) Ready apprehension. (3) Step. (4) In spite of.

By maidhood, honour, truth, and every thing,
I love thee so, that, maugre all thy príde,
Nor wit, nor reason, can my passion hide.
Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,
For, that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause;
But, rather, reason thus with reason fetter:
Love sought is good, but given unsought, is better.
Vio. By innocence I swear, and by my youth,
have one heart, one bosom, and one truth,
And that no woman has; nor never none
Shall mistress be of it, save I alone.
And so adieu, good madam; never more
Will I my master's tears to you deplore.

I

Oli. Yet come again: for thou, perhaps, may'st

son.

Fab. You must need yield your reason, sir Andrew.

Sir And. Marry, I saw your niece do more fayours to the count's serving-man, than ever she bestowed upon me; I saw't the orchard.

Sir To. Did she see thee the while, old boy? tell me that.

Sir And. As plain as I see you now.

Fab. This was a great argument of love in her toward you.

Sir And. 'Slight! will you make an ass o' me? Fab. I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of judgment and reason.

Sir To. And they have been grand jury-men, since before Noah was a sailor.

Fab. She did show favour to the youth in your sight, only to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse valour, to put fire in your heart, and brimstone in your liver: You should then have accosted her; and with some excellent jest, fire-new from the mint, you should have banged the youth into dumbness. This was looked for at your hand, and this was baulked: the double gilt of this opportunity you let time wash off, and you are now sailed into the north of my lady's opinion; where you will hang like an icicle on a Dutchman's beard, unless you do redeem it by some laudable attempt, either of valour, or policy.

Sir And. And't be any way, it must be with valour; for policy I hate: I had as lief be a Brownist, as a politician.

5

Sir To. Why then, build me thy fortunes upon the basis of valour. Challenge me the count's youth to fight with him; hurt him in eleven places; my niece shall take note of it: and assure thyself, there is no love-broker in the world can more prevail in man's commendation with woman, than report of valour.

Fab. There is no way but this, sir Andrew.

Sir And. Will either of you bear me a chal. lenge to him?

Sir To. Go, write it in a martial hand; be cursts and brief; it is no matter how witty, so it be

(5) Separatists in queen Elizabeth's reign.
(6) Crabbed.

eloquent, and full of invention: taunt him with Seb. I am not weary, and 'tis long to night; the license of ink: if thou thou'st him some thrice, I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes it shall not be amiss; and as many lies as will lie With the memorials, and the things of fame, in thy sheet of paper, although the sheet were big That do renown this city. enough for the bed of Ware in England, set 'em down; go, about it. Let there be gall enough in thy ink; though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter: About it,

Sir And. Where shall I find you? Sir To. We'll call thee at the cubiculo: Go. [Exit Sir Andrew. Fab. This is a dear manikin to you, sir Toby. Sir To. I have been dear to him, lad; some two thousand strong or so.

Fab. We shall have a rare letter from him: but you'll not deliver it.

Sir To. Never trust me then; and by all means stir on the youth to an answer. I think, oxen and wainropes cannot hale them together. For Andrew, if he were opened, and you find so much blood in his liver as will clog the foot of a flea, I'll eat the rest of the anatomy.

Fab. And his opposite, the youth, bears in his visage no great presage of cruelty.

Enter Maria.

Sir To. Look, where the youngest wren of nine

comes.

Mar. If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourselves into stitches, follow me: yon' gull Malvolio is turned heathen, a very renegado; for there is no Christian, that means to be saved by believing rightly, can ever believe such impossible passages of grossness. He's in yellow stockings. Sir To. And cross-gartered?

I

Ant.

"Would, you'd pardon me;
do not without danger walk these streets :
Once, in a sea-fight, 'gainst the count his galleys,
I did some service; of such note, indeed,
That, were I ta'en here, it would scarce be an-
swer'd.

Seb. Belike, you slew great number of his people.
Ant. The offence is not of such a bloody nature;
Albeit the quality of the time, and quarrel,
Might well have given us bloody argument.
It might have since been answer'd in repaying
What we took from them; which, for traffic sake,
Most of our city did: only myself stood out:
For which, if I be lapsed in this place,
shall pay dear.
Seb.

I

Do not then walk too open.
Ant. It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here's my
purse;

In the south suburbs, at the Elephant,
Is best to lodge: I will bespeak our diet,
Whiles you beguile the time, and feed your know-
ledge,

With viewing of the town; there shall you have me.
Seb. Why I your purse?

Ant. Haply, your eye shall light upon some toy You have desire to purchase; and your store, think, is not for idle markets, sir."

I

Seb. I'll be your purse-bearer, and leave you for
An hour.
To the Elephant.-

Ant.
Seb.

and Maria.

I do remember.

[Exeunt.

Mar. Most villanously; like a pedant that keeps a school i' the church.-I have dogged him, like his murderer: he does obey every point of the letter SCENE IV.-Olivia's Garden. Enter Olivia that I dropped to betray him. He does smile his face into more lines, than are in the new map, with the augmentation of the Indies; you have not seen such a thing as 'tis; I can hardly forbear hurling things at him. I know, my lady will strike him; if she do, he'll smile, and take't for a great favour. Sir To. Come, bring us, bring us where he is.

[Exeunt.

How shall I feast him? what bestow on him?
Oli. I have sent after him: He says, he'll come;
For youth is bought more oft, than begg'd, or bor-

row'd.

I speak too loud.

Where is Malvolio ?-he is sad, and civil, And suits well for a servant with my fortunes; SCENE III-A street. Enter Antonio and Se-Where is Malvolio?

bastian.

Seb. I would not, by my will, have troubled you;
But, since you make your pleasure of your pains,
I will no further chide you.

Ant. I could not stay behind you; my desire,
More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth;
And not all love to see you (though so much,
As might have drawn one to a longer voyage,)
But jealousy what might befall your travel,
Being skilless in these parts; which to a stranger,
Unguided, and unfriended, often prove
Rough and unhospitable: my willing love
The rather by these arguments of fear,
Set forth in your pursuit.

Seb.

My kind Antonio,

I can no other answer make, but, thanks,
And thanks, and ever thanks: Often good turns
Are shuffled off with such uncurrent pay:
But, were my worth, as is my conscience, firm,
You should find better dealing. What's to do?
Shall we go see the reliques of this town?

Int. To-morrow, sir; best, first, go see your
lodging.

'(1) In Hertfordshire, which held forty persons. (2) Chamber. (3) Wagon ropes,

How now, Malvolio?

Mal. Sweet lady, ho, ho! [Smiles fantastically.
Oli. Smil'st thou?

I sent for thee upon a sad occasion.

Mal. Sad, lady? I could be sad: this does make some obstruction in the blood, this cross-gartering: but what of that, if it pleases the eye of one, it is with me as the very true sonnet is: Please one and please all.

Oli. Why, how dost thou, man? what is the matter with thee?

Mal. Not black in my mind, though yellow in

my legs: It did come to his hands, and commands shall be executed. I think, we do know the sweet Roman hand.

Oli. Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio?

Mal. To bed? ay, sweet-heart; and I'll come to thee.

Oli. God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so, and kiss thy hand so oft?

Mar. How do you, Malvolio?

Mal. At your request? Yes; nightingales swer daws.

Mal. Go off; I discard you; let me enjoy my private; go off.

Mar. Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did I not tell you?-Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a care of him.

Mal. Ah, ha! does she so?

Sir To. Go to, go to; peace, peace, we must deal gently with him; let me alone. How do you, Malvolio? how is't with you? What, man! defy the an-devil: consider, he's an enemy to mankind. Mal. Do you know what you say?

Mar. Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady?

Mal. Be not afraid of greatness:-'Twas well writ.

Oli. What meanest thou by that, Malvolio?
Mal. Some are born great,—

Oli. Ha?

Mal. If not, let me see thee a servant still.
Oli. Why, this is very midsummer madness.'
Enter Servant.

Ser. Madam, the young gentleman of the count Orsino's is returned; I could hardly entreat him back; he attends your ladyship's pleasure.

Mar. La you, an you speak ill of the devil, how he takes it at heart! Pray God, he be not bewitched!

Fab. Carry his water to the wise woman.

Mar. Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning, if I live. My lady would not lose him for more than I'll say.

Mal. How now, mistress?

Mar. O lord!

Mar. No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godliness.

Mal. Go, hang yourselves all! you ane idle, shallow things: I am not of your element; you shall know more hereafter. [Exit.

Sir To. Is't possible!

Fab. If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction. Sir To. His very genius hath taken the infection of the device, man.

Mar. Nay, pursue him now; lest the device take air, and taint.

Fab. Why, we shall make him mad, indeed.
Mar. The house will be the quieter.

Oli. I'll come to him. [Exit Servant.] Good Maria, let this fellow be looked to. Where's my cousin Toby? Let some of my people have a special care of him; I would not have him miscarry for the half of my dowry. [Exit Olivia and Mar. Mal. Oh, ho! do you come near me now? no worse man than sir Toby to look to me? This concurs directly with the letter: she sends him on purpose, that I may appear stubborn to him; for she incites me to that in the letter. Cast the humble slough, says she; be opposite with a kinsman, surly| with servants, let thy longue tang with arguments Sir To. Come, we'll have him in a dark room, of state,-put thyself into the trick of singularity; and bound. My niece is already in the belief that and, consequently, sets down the manner how; as, he is mad; we may carry it thus for our pleasure, a sad face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in and his penance, till our very pastime, tired out of the habit of some sir of note, and so forth. I have breath, prompt us to have mercy on him : at which limed her; but it is Jove's doing, and Jove make time, we will bring the device to the bar, and me thankful! And, when she went away now, Let crown thee for a finder of madmen. But see, but sec. this fellow be looked to: Fellow! not Malvolio, nor after my degree, but fellow. Why, every thing adheres together; that no dram of a scruple, no scruple of a scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous or unsafe circumstance,-What can be said? Nothing, that can be, can come between me and the full prospect of my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked.

Re-enter Maria, with Sir Toby Belch, and Fabian.

Enter Sir Andrew Ague-cheek.

Fab. More matter for a May morning.
Sir And. Here's the challenge, read it; I war-
rant, there's vinegar and pepper in't.
Fab. Is't so saucy?

Sir And. Ay, is it, I warrant him: do but read. Sir To. Give me. [reads.] Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art but a scurvy fellow.

Fab. Good, and valiant.

Sir To. Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? Sir To. Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind, If all the devils in hell be drawn in little, and Le-why I do call thee so, for I will show thee no reason gion himself possessed him, yet I'll speak to him. for't. Fab. Here he is, here he is :-How is't with you,

sir? how is't with you, man?

(1) Hot weather madness.

(2) Caught her as a bird with birdlime. Companion.

Fab. A good note: that keeps you from the blow

of the law.

(4) Jolly cock, beau and coq.

(5) A play among boys.

Colliers were accounted great cheats,

1

Sir To. Thou comest to the lady Olivia, and in A fiend, like thee, might bear my soul to hell. [Ex. my sight she uses thee kindly: but thou liest in thy throat, that is not the matter I challenge thee for. Fab. Very brief, and exceeding good sense-less. Sir To. I will way-lay thee going home; where if it be thy chance to kill me,

Fab. Good.

Sir To. Thou killest me like a rogue and a villain. Fab. Still you keep o' the windy side of the law: Good.

Re-enter Sir Toby Belch, and Fabian.
Sir To. Gentleman, God save thee.
Vio. And you, sir.

2

Sir To. That defence thou hast, betake thee to't: of what nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know not; but thy intercepter, full of despight, bloody as the hunter, attends thee at the Sir To. Fare thee well; And God have mercy preparation, for thy assailant is quick, skilful, and orchard end: dismount thy tuck, be yare in thy upon one of our souls! He may have mercy upon mine; but my hope is better, and so look to thyself. Thy friend, as thou usest him, and thy Andrew Ague-check.

sworn enemy.

Sir To. If this letter moves him not, his legs cannot: I'll giv't him.

Mar. You may have very fit occasion for't; he is now in some commerce with my lady, and will by and by depart.

deadly.

Vio. You mistake, sir; I am sure, no man hath any quarrel to me; my remembrance is very free and clear from any image of offence done to any man. Sir To. You'll find it otherwise, I assure you: therefore, if you hold your life at any price, betake you to your guard; for your opposite hath in him what youth, strength, skill, and wrath, can furnish man withal.

Vio. I pray you, sir, what is he

Sir To. Go, sir Andrew; scout me for him at the corner of the orchard, like a bum-bailiff: so soon as ever thou seest him, draw; and as thou Sir To. He is knight, dubbed with unhacked drawest, swear horrible; for it comes to pass oft, devil in private brawl: souls and bodies hath he rapier, and on carpet consideration; but he is a that a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent divorced three; and his incensement at this mosharply twanged off, gives manhood more approbation than ever proof itself would have earned ment is so implacable, that satisfaction can be none him. Away. but by pangs of death and sepulchre: hob, nob, is

Sir And. Nay, let me alone for swearing. [Ex. his word; give't, or take't.

Sir To. Now will not I deliver his letter: for the Vio. I will return again into the house, and debehaviour of the young gentleman gives him out sire some conduct of the lady. I am no fighter. I to be of good capacity and breeding; his employ-have heard of some kind of men, that put quarrels ment between his lord and my niece confirms no purposely on others, to taste their valour: belike, less; therefore this letter, being so excellently ig- this is a man of that quirk.4

norant, will breed no terror in the youth, he will Sir To. Sir, no; his indignation derives itself find it comes from a clodpole. But, sir, I will de-out of a very competent injury; therefore, get you liver his challenge by word of mouth; set upon on, and give him his desire. Back you shall not to Ague-cheek a notable report of valour; and drive which with as much safety you might answer him: the house, unless you undertake that with me, the gentleman (as, I know, his youth will aptly receive it,) into a most hideous opinion of his rage, for meddle you must, that's certain, or forswear to therefore, on, or strip your sword stark naked; skill, fury, and impetuosity. This will so fright them both, that they will kill one another by the wear iron about you. look, like cockatrices.

Enter Olivia and Viola.

Fab. Here he comes with your niece: give them way, till he take leave, and presently after him. Sir To. I will meditate the while upon some horrid message for a challenge.

[Exeunt Sir Toby, Fabian, and Maria.
Oli. I have said too much unto a heart of stone,
And laid mine honour too unchary1 out:
There's something in me, that reproves my fault;
But such a headstrong potent fault it is,
That it but mocks reproof.

Vio. This is as uncivil, as strange. I beseech you, do me this courteous office, as to know of the knight what my offence to him is; it is something of my negligence, nothing of my purpose.

Sir To. I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by this gentleman till my return. [Exit Sir Toby. Vio. Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter? Fab. I know, the knight is incensed against you, even to a mortal arbitrament; but nothing of the circumstance more.

Vio. I beseech you, what manner of man is he? Fab. Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read him by his form, as you are like to find him in the

Vio. With the same 'haviour that your passion proof of his valour. He is, indeed, sir, the most bears,

Go on my master's griefs.

skilful, bloody, and fatal opposite that you could possibly have found in any part of Illyria: will you

Oli. Here, wear this jewel for me, 'tis my pic- walk towards him? I will make your peace with

ture;

Refuse it not, it hath no tongue to vex you:
And, I beseech you, come again to-morrow.
What shall you ask of me, that I'll deny;
That honour, sav'd, may upon asking give?
Vio. Nothing but this, your true love for my

master.

Oli. How with mine honour may I give him that
Which I have given to you?

Vio.
I will acquit you.
Oli. Well, come again to-morrow: Fare thee

well;

Uncautiously. (2) Rapier. (3) Ready.
Sort. (5) Decision. (6) Adversary.

him, if I can.

Vio. I shall be much bound to you for't: I am one, that would rather go with sir priest, than sir knight: I care not who knows so much of my mettle. [Exeunt.

Re-enter Sir Toby, with Sir Andrew.

Sir To. Why, man, he's a very devil; I have not seen such a virago. I had a pass with him, rapier, scabbard, and all, and he gives me the stuck-in," with such a mortal motion, that it is inevitable; and on the answer, he pays you as surely

(7) Stoccata, an Italian term in fencing.
(8) Docs for you.