Mal. Lady, you have. Pray you, peruse that letter.

You must not now deny it is your hand:
Write from it, if you can, in hand or phrase; 340
Or say 'tis not your seal, not your invention:
You can say none of this: well, grant it then
And tell me, in the modesty of honour,
Why you have given me such clear lights of
favour,

350

Bade me come smiling and cross-garter'd to you,
To put on yellow stockings and to frown
Upon Sir Toby and the lighter people;
And, acting this in an obedient hope,
Why have you suffer'd me to be imprison'd,
Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest,
And made the most notorious geck and gull
That e'er invention play'd on? tell me why.
Oli. Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing,
Though, I confess, much like the character:
But out of question 'tis Maria's hand.
And now I do bethink me, it was she

First told me thou wast mad; then camest in smiling,

And in such forms which here were presupposed Upon thee in the letter. Prithee, be content: This practice hath most shrewdly pass'd upon thee;

360
But when we know the grounds and authors of it,
Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge
Of thine own cause.
Fab.
Good madam, hear me speak,
And let no quarrel nor no brawl to come
Taint the condition of this present hour,
Which I have wonder'd at. In hope it shall not,
Most freely I confess, myself and Toby
Set this device against Malvolio here,
Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts

We had conceived against him: Maria writ 370
The letter at Sir Toby's great importance;
In recompense whereof he hath married her.
How with a sportful malice it was follow'd,
May rather pluck on laughter than revenge;
If that the injuries be justly weigh'd
That have on both sides pass'd.

Oli. Alas, poor fool, how have they baffled thee!

Clo. Why, 'some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrown upon them.' I was one, sir, in this interlude; one Sir Topas, sir; but that's all one. 'By the Lord, fool, I am not mad.' But do you remember? 'Madam, why laugh you at such a barren rascal? an you smile not, he's gagged:' and thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges. Mal. I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you. [Exit. Oli. He hath been most notoriously abused. Duke. Pursue him, and entreat him to a peace: He hath not told us of the captain yet: When that is known and golden time convents, A solemn combination shall be made Of our dear souls. Meantime, sweet sister, We will not part from hence. Cesario, come; For so you shall be, while you are a man; But when in other habits you are seen, Orsino's mistress and his fancy's queen.

390

[Exeunt all, except Clown.

Clo. [Sings]
When that I was and a little tiny boy,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
A foolish thing was but a toy,

For the rain it raineth every day.

But when I came to man's estate,
With hey, ho, &c.

400

'Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their

SCENE I. Antechamber in LEONTES' palace.

Enter CAMILLO and ARCHIDAMUS. Arch. If you shall chance, Camillo, to visit Bohemia, on the like occasion whereon my services are now on foot, you shall see, as I have said, great difference betwixt our Bohemia and your Sicilia.

Cam. I think, this coming summer, the King of Sicilia means to pay Bohemia the visitation which he justly owes him.

II

Arch. Wherein our entertainment shall shame us we will be justified in our loves; for indeedCam. Beseech you,Arch. Verily, I speak it in the freedom of my knowledge: we cannot with such magnificence-in so rare-I know not what to say. We will give you sleepy drinks, that your senses, unintelligent of our insufficience, may, though they cannot praise us, as little accuse us. Cam. You pay a great deal too dear for what's given freely.

19 Arch. Believe me, I speak as my understanding instructs me and as mine honesty puts

it to utterance.

Cam. Sicilia cannot show himself over-kind to Bohemia. They were trained together in their childhoods; and there rooted betwixt them then such an affection, which cannot choose but branch now. Since their more mature dignities and royal necessities made separation of their society, their encounters, though not personal, have been royally attorneyed with interchange of gifts, letters, loving embassies; that they have seemed to be together, though absent, shook hands, as over a vast, and embraced, as it were, from the ends of opposed winds. The heavens continue their loves!

Arch. I think there is not in the world either malice or matter to alter it. You have an unspeakable comfort of your young prince Mamil

HERMIONE, queen to Leontes.

PERDITA, daughter to Leontes and Hermione. PAULINA, wife to Antigonus.

EMILIA, a lady attending on Hermione.

MOPSA,

}

DORCAS, Shepherdesses.

Other Lords and Gentlemen, Ladies, Officers, and Servants, Shepherds, and Shepherdesses.

Time, as Chorus..

SCENE: Sicilia, and Bohemia.

lius: it is a gentleman of the greatest promise that ever came into my note.

40

Cam. I very well agree with you in the hopes of him: it is a gallant child; one that indeed physics the subject, makes old hearts fresh: they that went on crutches ere he was born desire yet their life to see him a man.

Arch. Would they else be content to die? Cam. Yes; if there were no other excuse why they should desire to live.

Arch. If the king had no son, they would desire to live on crutches till he had one.

50

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. A room of state in the same.

Enter LEONTES, HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS,
POLIXENES, CAMILLO, and Attendants.
Pol. Nine changes of the watery star hath
been

The shepherd's note since we have left our throne
Without a burthen: time as long again
Would be fill'd up, my brother, with our thanks;
And yet we should, for perpetuity,
Go hence in debt: and therefore, like a cipher,
Yet standing in rich place, I multiply
With one 'We thank you' many thousands moe
That go before it.
Leon.
Stay your thanks a while;
And pay them when you part.
Pol.
Sir, that's to-morrow.
I am question'd by my fears, of what may chance
Or breed upon our absence; that may blow
No sneaping winds at home, to make us say
'This is put forth too truly:' besides, I have
stay'd

To tire your royalty. Leon.

We are tougher, brother,

IO

Than you can put us to't.
Pol.
No longer stay.
Leon. One seven-night longer.
Pol.
Very sooth, to-morrow.

Mam. Ay, my good lord. Leon. I' fecks! 120 Why, that's my bawcock. What, hast smutch'd thy nose?

They say it is a copy out of mine. Come, captain,

We must be neat; not neat, but cleanly, captain:

And yet the steer, the heifer and the calf
Are all call'd neat.-Still virginalling

Upon his palm-How now, you wanton calf!
Art thou my calf?

Mam.
Leon. Thou want'st a rough pash and the
shoots that I have,

Yes, if you will, my lord.

130

To be full like me: yet they say we are
Almost as like as eggs; women say so,
That will say any thing: but were they false
As o'er-dyed blacks, as wind, as waters, false
As dice are to be wish'd by one that fixes
No bourn 'twixt his and mine, yet were it true
To say this boy were like me. Come, sir page,
Look on me with your welkin eye: sweet villain!
Most dear'st! my collop! Can thy dam?-may't
be?-

Affection! thy intention stabs the centre:
Thou dost make possible things not so held,
Communicatest with dreams;-how can this be?
With what's unreal thou coactive art,
And fellow'st nothing: then 'tis very credent
Thou mayst co-join with something; and thou
dost,

And that beyond commission, and I find it,
And that to the infection of my brains
And hardening of my brows.

141

Pol. What means Sicilia ? Her. He something seems unsettled. Pol. How, my lord! What cheer? how is't with you, best brother? Her. You look As if you held a brow of much distraction: Are you moved, my lord? Leon. No, in good earnest. 150 How sometimes nature will betray its folly, Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime To harder bosoms! Looking on the lines Of my boy's face, methoughts I did recoil Twenty-three years, and saw myself unbreech'd, In my green velvet coat, my dagger muzzled, Lest it should bite its master, and so prove, As ornaments oft do, too dangerous: How like, methought, I then was to this kernel, This squash, this gentleman. Mine honest friend, Will you take eggs for money?

Mam. No, my lord, I'll fight.

161

Leon. You will! why, happy man be's dole!
My brother,

Are you so fond of your young prince as we
Do seem to be of ours?

Pol.
If at home, sir,
He's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter,
Now my sworn friend and then mine enemy,
My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all:
He makes a July's day short as December,
And with his varying childness cures in me
Thoughts that would thick my blood.
Leon.
So stands this squire
Officed with me: we two will walk, my lord,
And leave you to your graver steps. Hermione,

170

190

Or I am much deceived, cuckolds ere now;
And many a man there is, even at this present,
Now while I speak this, holds his wife by the arm,
That little thinks she has been sluiced in's
absence

And his pond fish'd by his next neighbour, by
Sir Smile, his neighbour : nay, there's comfort in 't
Whiles other men have gates and those gates
open'd,

As mine, against their will. Should all despair
That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind
Would hang themselves. Physic for't there is

pertinent;

But, so it is, it is not. Was this taken
By any understanding pate but thine?
For thy conceit is soaking, will draw in

More than the common blocks: not noted, is't,
But of the finer natures? by some severals
Of head-piece extraordinary? lower messes
Perchance are to this business purblind? say.
Cam. Business, my lord! I think most un-
derstand

Bohemia stays here longer.

Leon.

Cam.

Ha!

Stays here longer.

Leon. Ay, but why? Cam. To satisfy your highness and the treaties

Of our most gracious mistress.

Leon.

Satisfy!

230

en

The entreaties of your mistress! satisfy!
Let that suffice. I have trusted thee, Camillo,
With all the nearest things to my heart, as well
My chamber-councils, wherein, priest-like, thou
Hast cleansed my bosom, I from thee departed
Thy penitent reform'd: but we have been
Deceived in thy integrity, deceived

In that which seeins so.

240

My gracious lord, may be negligent, foolish and fearful; In every one of these no man is free, But that his negligence, his folly, fear, Among the infinite doings of the world,

280

Cam. I would not be a stander-by to hear My sovereign mistress clouded so, without My present vengeance taken: 'shrew my heart, You never spoke what did become you less Than this; which to reiterate were sin As deep as that, though true.

Leon. Is whispering nothing? Is leaning cheek to cheek? is meeting noses? Kissing with inside lip? stopping the career Of laughing with a sigh ?-a note infallible Of breaking honesty-horsing foot on foot? Skulking in corners? wishing clocks more swift? Hours, minutes? noon, midnight? and all eyes Blind with the pin and web but theirs, theirs only, That would unseen be wicked? is this nothing? Why, then the world and all that's in't is nothing;

The covering sky is nothing; Bohemia nothing; My wife is nothing; nor nothing have these nothings,

If this be nothing.

Cam. Good my lord, be cured Of this diseased opinion, and betimes; For 'tis most dangerous. Leon.

I

Say it be, 'tis true.

Cam. No, no, my lord. Leon.

300

It is; you lie, you lie : say thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee, Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave, Or else a hovering temporizer, that Canst with thine eyes at once see good and evil, Inclining to them both: were my wife's liver Infected as her life, she would not live The running of one glass.

Cam.

Who does infect her? Leon. Why, he that wears her like her medal, hanging

310

Sometime puts forth. In your affairs, my lord, If ever I were wilful-negligent,

It was my folly; if industriously

I play'd the fool, it was my negligence,
Not weighing well the end; if ever fearful
To do a thing, where I the issue doubted,
Whereof the execution did cry out
Against the non-performance, 'twas a fear
Which oft infects the wisest: these, my lord,
Are such allow'd infirmities that honesty
Is never free of. But, beseech your grace,
Be plainer with me; let me know my trespass
By its own visage: if I then deny it,
'Tis none of mine.

I could do this, and that with no rash potion,.
But with a lingering dram that should not work
Maliciously like poison: but I cannot
Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress,
So sovereignly being honourable.
I have loved thee,-

Leon. Make that thy question, and go rot!
Dost think I am so muddy, so unsettled,
To appoint myself in this vexation, sully
The purity and whiteness of my sheets,
Which to preserve is sleep, which being spotted
Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps,
Give scandal to the blood o' the prince my son,
Who I do think is mine and love as mine,
331
Without ripe moving to't? Would I do this?
Could man so blench?
Cam.

I must believe you, sir: