you, even to a mortal arbitrement ;* 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 proof of his valour. He is, indeed, Sir, the most skilful, bloody, and fatal oppositet that you could possibly have found in any part of Illyria: Will you walk towards him? Ĭ will make your peace with 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 as your feet hit the ground they step on: They say, he has been fencer to the Sophy. Sir And. Pox on't, I'll not meddle with him. Sir To. Ay, but he will not now be pacified: Fabian can scarce hold him yonder.

Sir And. Plague on't; an I thought he had been valiant, and so cunning in fence, I'd have seen hir damned ere I'd have challenged him. Let him let the matter slip, and I'll give him my horse, grey Capilet.

Sir To. I'll make the motion: Stand here, make a good show on't; this shall end without the perdition of souls: Marry, I'll ride your horse as well as I ride you. [Aside.

Re-enter FABIAN and VIOLA.

I have his horse [To FAB.] to take up the quarrel; I have persuaded him the youth's a devil. Fab. He is as horribly conceited]|| of him; and pants, and looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels.

Fab. O good Sir Toby, hold; here come the officers.

Sir To. I'll be with you anon. [TO ANTONIO. Vio. Pray, Sir, put up your sword, if you please. [To Sir ANDREW. Sir And. Marry, will I, Sir;-and, for that I promised you, I'll be as good as my word: He will bear you easily, and reins well.

1 Of. This is the man; do thy office. 2 Of. Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit Of count Orsino.

Ant. You do mistake me, Sir.

1 Off. No, Sir, no jot; I know your favour Though now you have no sea-cap on your well, [head.-. Take him away; he knows, I know him well.

you;

Ant. I must obey.-This comes with seeking But there's no remedy; I shall answer it. Makes me to ask you for my purse: It grieves What will you do? Now my necessity

me

Much more, for what I cannot do for you,
Than what befalls myself. You stand amaz'd;
But be of comfort.
2 Off. Come, Sir, away.

Ant. I must entreat of you some of that money.
Vio. What money, Sir?

For the fair kindness you have show'd me here,
And, part, being prompted by your present
I'll lend you something: my having is not
Out of my lean and low ability [trouble,

much;

I'll make division of my present with you:
Hold, there is half my coffer.

Ant. Will you deny me now? Is't possible, that my deserts to you Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery, Lest that it make me so unsound a man, Sir To. There's no remedy, Sir; he will fight As to upbraid you with those kindnesses with you for his oath sake: marry, he hath bet-That I have done for you. ter bethought him of his quarrel, and he finds that now scarce to be worth talking of: therefore draw, for the supportance of his vow; he protests, he will not hurt you.

Vio. Pray God defend me! A little thing would make me tell them how much I lack of [Aside.

a man.

Fub. Give ground, if you see him furious. Sir To. Come, Sir Andrew, there's no remedy; the gentleman will, for his honour's sake, have one bout with you: he cannot by the duello¶ avoid it: but he has promised me, as he is a gentleman and a soldier, he will not hurt you. Come on; to't.

Sir And. Pray God, he keep his oath!

Enter ANTONIO.

[Draws.

Vio. I know of none;

Nor know 1 you by voice, or any feature:
I hate ingratitude more in a man,
Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness,
Or any taint of vice, whose strong corruption
Inhabits our frail blood.

Ant. O heavens themselves!

2 Off. Come, Sir, I pray you, go.

Ant. Let me speak a little. This youth that

you see here,

I snatch'd one half out of the jaws of death;
Reliev'd him with such sanctity of love,
And to his image, which, methought, did pro-

mise

[Exeunt OFFICERS, with ANTONIO. Methinks, his words do from such pas sion fly,

That he believes himself; so do not [.

* Ornamented.

SCENE II.] THE TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL.

Prove true, imagination, O, prove true,
That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you!
Sir To. Come hither knight; come hither,
Fabian; we'll whisper o'er a couplet or two of
most sage saws.

Vio. He nam'd Sebastian; I my brother know
Yet living in my glass;* even such, and so,
In favour was my brother; and he went
Still in this fashion, colour, ornament,
For him I imitate: O, if it prove,
Tempests are kind, and salt waves fresh in
love!

Sir To. A very dishonest paltry boy, and [Exit. more a coward than a hare: his dishonesty appears, in leaving his friend here in necessity, and denying him; and for his cowardship, ask Fabian.

Fab. A coward, a most devout coward, religious in it.

Sir And. 'Slid, I'll after him again, and beat

him.

Sir To. Do, cuff him soundly, but never draw thy sword.

Sir And. An I do not,

Fab. Come, let's see the event.

[Exit.

Sir To. I dare lay any money, 'twill be nothing yet. [Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.—The Street before OLIVIA'S House.
Enter SEBASTIAN and CLOWN.

Clo. Will you make me believe, that I am not sent for you?

Seb. Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow; Let me be clear of thee.

Clo. Well held out, i'faith! No, I do not know you; nor I am not sent to you by my lady, to bid you come speak with her; nor your name is not master Cesario; nor this is not my nose neither.-Nothing, that is Seb. I pr'ythee, ventt thy folly somewhere So, is so. Thou know'st not me. [else;

Clo. Vent my folly! He has heard that word of some great man, and now applies it to a fool. Vent my folly! I am afraid this great lubber, the world, will prove a cockney.-I pr'ythee now, ungird thy strangeness, and tell me what I shall vent to my lady; Shall I vent to her, that thou art coming?

Seb. I pr'ythee, foolish Greek, depart from

me;

There's money for thee; if you tarry longer,
I shall give worse payment.

Clo. By my troth, thou hast an open hand :These wise men, that give fools money, get themselves a good report after fourteen years' purchase.

Enter Sir ANDREW, Sir TOBY, and FABIAN.
Sir And. Now, Sir; have 1 met you again?
there's for you.
Seb. Why, there's for thee, and there, and
[Striking SEBASTIAN.
there:

Are all the people mad? [ Beating Sir ANDREW.
Sir To. Hold, Sir or I'll throw your dagger

o'er the house.

49

lyria: though I struck him first, yet it's no matter for that.

Seb. Let go thy hand.

Sir To. Come, Sir, I will not let you go. you are well fleshed; come on. Come, my young soldier, put up your iron:

Seb. I will be free from thee. What would'st
thou now?

If thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword.
Sir To. What, what? Nay, then I must have
[Draws.
you.
an ounce or two of this malapert blood from
[Draws.
Enter OLIVIA.

Oli. Hold, Toby; on thy life, I charge thee,
hold.

Sir To. Madam?

Fit for the mountains, and the barbarous caves,
Oli. Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch,
Where manners ne'er were preach'd! out of my
sight!

Be not offended, dear Cesario :-
Rudesby, be gone!-I pr'ythee, gentle friend,
[Exeunt Sir TOBY, Sir ANDREW, and FABIAN.
Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway
In this uncivil and unjust extentt
Against thy peace. Go with me to my house
This ruffian hath botch'd up,‡ that thou thereby
And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks
May'st smile at this: thou shalt not choose but
go;

Do not deny: Beshrew his soul for me,
He started one poor heart of mine in thee.

Seb. What relish is in this? how runs the

stream?

;

Or I am mad, or else this is a dream :-
Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;
If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!
Oli. Nay, come, I pr'ythee: 'Would thou'dst
be rul'd by me!

Seb. Madam, I will.
Oli. O, say so, and so be!

[Exeun

SCENE II-A Room in OLIVIA'S House.

Enter MARIA and CLOWN.

this beard; make him believe, thou art Sir Topas the curate; do it quickly: I'll call Sir Mar. Nay, I pr'ythee, put on this gown, and Toby the whilst. Clo. Well, I'll put it on, and I will dissem[Exit MARIA. ble myself in't; and I would I were the first that ever dissembled in such a gown. I am but to be said, an honest man and a good not fat enough to become the function well; housekeeper, goes as fairly, as to say, a careful nor lean enough to be thought a good student: man, and a great scholar. The competitors¶

enter.

Enter Sir TOBY BELCH and MARIA.
Sir To. Jove bless thee, master parson.

Clo. Bonos dies, Sir Toby: for as the old
very wittily said to a niece of king Gorboduc,
hermit of Prague, that never saw pen and ink,
That, that is, is: so I, being master parson, am
and is, but is?
master parson; For what is that, but that?

Sir To. To him, Sir Topas.

Clo. What, hoa, I say,-Peace in this prison!
Sir To. The knave counterfeits well; a good

Clo. This will I tell my lady straight; I would not be in some of your coats for two-pence. Sir To. Come on, Sir; hold. [Exit CLOWN. Sir And. Nay, let him alone, I'll go another [Holding SEBASTIAN. way to work with him; I'll have an action of Mal. [In an inner chamber.] Who calls there? battery against him, if there be any law in Il-Malvolio the lunatic. Clo. Sir Topas, the curate, who comes to visit

50

Mal. Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, | me in darkness, send ministers to me, asses, and do all they can to face me out of my go to my lady. wits.

Clo. Out, hyperbolical fiend! how vexest thou this man? talkest thou nothing but of ladies? Sir To. Well said, master parson.

Mal. Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged: good Sir Topas, do not think I am mad; they have laid me here in hideous darkness.

Clo. Fie, thou dishonest Sathan! I call thee by the most modest terms; for I am one of those gentle ones, that will use the devil himself with courtesy: Say'st thou, that house is dark?

Mal. As hell, Sir Topas.

Clo. Why, it hath bay-windows* transparent as barricadoes, and the clear stones towards the south-north are as lustrous as ebony; and yet complainest thou of obstruction?

Mal. I am not mad, Sir Topas; I say to you, this house is dark.

Clo. Madman, thou errest: I say, there is Bo darkness, but ignorance; in which thou art more puzzled, than the Egyptians in their fog. Mal. I say, this house is as dark as ignorance, though ignorance were as dark as hell; and I say, there was never man thus abused: I am no more mad than you are; make the trial of it in any constant question.†

Clo. What is the opinion of Pythagoras, concerning wild-fowl?

Mal. That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird.

Clo. What thinkest thou of his opinion? Mal. I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his opinion.

Clo. Fare thee well: Remain thou still in darkness: thou shalt hold the opinion of Pythagoras, ere I will allow of thy wits; and fear to kill a woodcock, lest thou dispossess the soul of thy grandam. Fare thee well.

Mal. Sir Topas, Sir Topas,

Sir To. My most exquisite Sir Topas!
Clo. Nay, I am for all waters.‡

Mar. Thou might'st have done this without thy beard, and gown; he sees thee not.

Sir To. To him in thine own voice, and bring me word how thou findest him: I would, we were well rid of this knavery. If he may be conveniently delivered, I would he were; for I am now so far in offence with my niece, that I cannot pursue with any safety this sport to the upshot. Come by and by to my chainber. [Exeunt Sir TOBY and MARIA. Clo. Hey Robin, jolly Robin,

Tell me how thy lady does. [Singing.

Mal. Fool,

Clo. My lady is unkind, perdy.
Mal. Fool,-

Clo. Alas, why is she so?

Mal. Fool, I say ;--

Clo. She loves another-Who calls, ha? Mal. Good fool, as ever thou wilt deserve well at my hand, help me to a candle, and pen; ink, and paper; as I am a gentleman, I will live to be thankful to thee for't.

Clo. Master Malvolio!
Mal. Ay, good fool.

Clo. Alas, Sir, how fell you besides your five

wits?

Mal. Fool, there was never man so notoriously abused: I am as well in my wits, fool,

as thou art.

Clo. But as well? then you are mad, indeed,
if you be no better in your wits than a fool.
Mal. They have here propertied me, keep
+ Regular conversation.
Any other gem, as a Topaz.
Taken possession of.

Bow windows.
Senses.

Clo. Advise you what you say; the minister is here.-Malvolio, Malvolio, thy wits the heavens restore! endeavour thyself to sleep, and leave thy vain bibble babble.

Mal. Sir Topas,

Clo. Maintain no words with him, good fellow.-Who, I, Sir? not I, Sir. God b'wi'you, good Sir Topas.-Marry, amen.-I will, Sir, I will.

Mal. Fool, fool, fool, I say,-.

Clo. Alas, Sir, be patient. What say you, Sir? I am shent* for speaking to you.

Mal. Good fool, help me to some light, and some paper; I tell thee, I am as well in my Sir! wits, as any man in Illyria.

Clo. Well-a-day,—that you were, Mal. By this hand, I am: Good fool, some ink, paper, and light, and convey what I will set down to my lady; it shall advantage thee more than ever the bearing of letter did.

Clo. I will help you to't. But tell me true, are you not mad indeed? or do you but counterfeit?

Mal. Believe me, I am not; I tell thee true. Clo. Nay, I'll ne'er believe a madman, till I see his brains. I will fetch you light, and paper, and ink.

Mal. Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree: I pr'ythee, begone. I am gone, Sir,

Clo.

And anon, Sir,
I'll be with you again,
In a trice;

Like to the old vice,t
Your need to sustain;
Who with dagger of lath,
In his rage and his wrath,
Cries, ah, ha! to the devil:
Like a mad lad,
Pare thy nails, dad,

Adieu, goodman drivel.

SCENE III-OLIVIA'S Garden.

Enter SEBASTIAN.

[Exit.

Seb. This is the air; that is the glorious sun;
This pearl she gave me, I do feel't, and see't:
And though 'tis wonder that enwraps me thus,
Yet 'tis not madness. Where's Antonio then?
I could not find him at the Elephant:
Yet there he was; and there I found this credit,+
That he did range the town to seek me out.
His counsel now might do me golden service:
For though my soul disputes well with my

sense,

That this may be some error, but no madness,
Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune
So far exceed all instance, all discourse,§
That I am ready to distrust mine eyes,
And wrangle with my reason, that persuades
To any other trust,|| but that I am mad,
Or else the lady's mad; yet if 'twere so,
She could not sway her house, command her
followers,¶

[me

[ing, Take, and give back, affairs, and their despatch, With such a smooth, discreet, and stable bearAs, I perceive, she does: there's something in't. That is deceivable. But here comes the lady.

Enter OLIVIA and a PRIEST.

Oli. Blame not this haste of mine: If you
mean well,

Now go with me, and with this holy man,
Into the chantry* by: there, before him,
And underneath that consecrated roof,
Plight me the full assurance of your faith;
That my most jealous and too doubtful soul
May live at peace: He shall conceal it,
Whilest you are willing it shall come to note;
What time we will our celebration keep
According to my birth.-What do you say?
Seb. I'll follow this good man, and go with

you;

And, having sworn truth, ever will be true.
Oli. Then lead the way, good father;-And
heavens so shine,

That they may fairly note this act of mine!
[Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I.—The Street hefore OLIVIA's House.

Enter CLOWN and FABIAN.

Fab. Now, as thou lovest me, let me see his letter.

Clo. Good master Fabian, grant me another request.

Fab. Any thing.

Clo. Do not desire to see this letter.

I come again. I go, Sir; but I would not have
you to think, that my desire of having is the
sin of covetousness: but, as you say, Sir, let
your bounty take a nap, I will awake it anon.
[Exit CLOWN.

Enter ANTONIO and OFFICers.
Vio. Here comes the man, Sir, that did rescue

me.

Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmear'd
Duke. That face of his I do remember well;
As black as Vulcan, in the smoke of war:
A bawbling vessel was he captain of,
For shallow draught, and bulk, unprizable;
With which such scathful grapple did he make
With the most noble bottom of our fleet,
That very envy, and the tongue of loss,
Cried fame and honour on him.-What's the
matter?

1 Of. Orsino, this is that Antonio,
That took the Phoenix, and her fraught,+ from
And this is he, that did the Tiger board,
Candy;
When your young nephew Titus lost his leg:
Here in the streets, desperate of shame, and
state,

In private brabble did we apprehend him.
Vio. He did me kindness, Sir; drew on my
side;

But, in conclusion, put strange speech upon me,

Fab. That is, to give a dog, and, in 1ecom- I know not what 'twas, but distraction. pense, desire my dog again.

Enter DUKE, VIOLA, and Attendants.
Duke. Belong you to the lady Olivia, friends?
Clo. Ay, Sir; we are some of her trappings.
Duke. I know thee well; How dost thou, my
good fellow?

Clo. Truly, Sir, the better for my foes, and the worse for my friends.

Duke. Just the contrary; the better for thy friends.

Clo. No, Sir, the worse.
Duke. How can that be?

Clo. Marry, Sir, they praise me, and make an ass of me; now my foes tell me plainly I am an ass: so that by my foes, Sir, I profit in the knowledge of myself; and by my friends I am abused: so that, conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives make your two affirmatives, why, then the worse for my friends, and the better for my foes.

Duke. Why, this is excellent.

Clo. By my troth, Sir, no; though it please you to be one of my friends.

Duke. Thou shalt not be the worse for me; there's gold.

Clo. But that it would be double-dealing, Sir, I would you could make it another.

Duke. O, you give me ill counsel.

Clo. Put your grace in your pocket, Sir, for this once, and let your flesh and blood obey it. Duke. Well, I will be so much a sinner to be a double-dealer; there's another.

Clo. Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play; and the old saying is, the third pays for all: the triplex, Sir, is a good tripping measure; or the bells of St. Bennet, Sir, may put you in mind; One, two, three.

Duke. You can fool no more money out of. me at this throw: if you will let your lady know, I am here to speak with her, and bring her along with you, it may awake my bounty further.

Clo. Marry, Sir, lullaby to your bounty, till + Until

Little chapel.

Duke. Notable pirate! thou salt-water thief! What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies,

Whom thou, in terms so bloody, and so dear,
Hast made thine enemies?

Ant. Orsino, noble Sir,

Be pleas'd that I shake off these names you
give me ;

Antonio never yet was thief, or pirate,
Though, I confess, on base and ground enough,
Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither:
That most ungrateful boy there, by your side,
From the rude sea's enrag'd and foamy mouth
Did I redeem; a wreck past hope he was:
His life I gave him, and did thereto add
My love, without retention, or restraint
All his in dedication: for his sake,
Did I expose myself, pure for his love,
Into the danger of this adverse town;
Drew to defend him, when he was beset;
Where being apprehended, his false cunning,
(Not meaning to partake with me in danger,
Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,
And grew a twenty-years-removed thing,
While one would wink; denied me mine own
purse,

Which I had recommended to his use
Not half an hour before.

Vio. How can this be?

Duke. When came he to this town?
Ant. To-day, my lord; and for three months
before,

(No interim, not a minute's vacancy,)
Both day and night did we keep company.

Enter OLIVIA and Attendants.

Duke. Here comes the countess : now heaven walks on earth.

But for thee, fellow, fellow, thy words are
madness:

Three months this youth hath tended upon me;
But more of that anon. Take him aside.

Oli. What would my lord, but that he may
not have,