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Enter Sir Hagh Evans, like a Satyr ; Mrs. Quickly Mrs. Page. I pray you come ; hold up the jest no and Pistol ; Anne Page, as the Fairy Queen, at
higher tended by her Brother and others, dressed like Now, good sir John, how like you Windsor wives : Fairies, with waxen Tapers on their Heads. See you these, husband I do not these fair yokes Quick. Fairies, black, grey, green, and white,
Becoine the forest better than the town? You moonshine revellers, and shades of night,
Ford. Now, sir, who's a cuckold now 1-Master You orpban-heirs of fixed destiny,
Brook, Falstaff's a knave, a cuckoldly knave ; here Attend your office, and your quality
are his horns, master Brook : And, master Brook, he Crier Hobgoblin, make the fairy o-yes.
hath enjoyed nothing of Ford's but his bnek-basket, Pist. Elves, list your names ; silence, you airy toys. bis cudgel, and twenty pounds of money; which Cricket, to Windsor chimneys shalt thou leap:
must be paid to master Brook ; his horses are arWhere fires thou find'st unrak'd, and hearths unrested for it, master Brook. There pinch the maids as blue as bilberry : [swept, could never meet. I will never take you for my love
Mrs. Ford. Sir John, we have had ill luck; we Our radiant queen hates sluts and sluttery.
[die Fal. They are fairies; he, that speaks to them, shall again, but I will always count you any deer. I'll wink and couch : No man their works must eye.
Fal. I do begin to perceive that I am made an ass. [Lies down upon his Face.
Ford. Ay, and an ox too; both the proofs are Eva. Where's Pede ?-Go you, and where you find extant. a maid,
Fal. And these are not fairies ? I was three or four That, ere she sleep, has thrice her prayers said,
times in the thought they were not fairies : and yet Raise up the organs of her fantasy,
the guiltiness of my mind, the sudden surprise of my Sleep she as sound as careless infancy;
powers, drove the grossness of the foppery into a reBut those as sleep, and think not on their sins,
ceived belief, in despite of the teeth of all rhyme and Pinch them arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides, and reason, that they were fairies. See now, how wit may Quick. About, about;
be made a jack-a-lent, when 'tis upon ill employment! Search Windsor Castle, elves, within and oat:
Eva. Sir John Falstaff, serve Got, and leave your Strew good luck, ouphes, on every sacred room;
desires, and fairies will not pinse you. That it may stand till the perpetual doom,
Ford. Well said, fairy Hugh. In state as wholesome, as in state 'tis tit;
Era. And leave you your jealousies too, I pray you. Worthy the owner, and the owner it.
Ford, I will never mistrust my wife again, till thou The several chairs of order look you soonr
art able to woo her in good English. With juice of balm, and every precious tower :
Fal. Have I laid my brain in the sun, and dried it, Each fair instalment, coat, and several crest,
that it wants matter to prevent so gross o'erreaching With loyal blazon, evermore be blest!
as this ? Am I ridden with a Welsh goat too? Shall i And nightly, meadow-fairies, look, you sing,
have a coxcomb of frize? 'Tis time I were choked Like to the Garter's compass, in a ring :
with a piece of toasted cheese. The expressure that it bears, green let it be,
Eva. Seese is not good to give putter ; your pelly is More fertile-fresh than all the field to see ;
all putter. And, Hony soit qui mal y pense, write,
Fal. Seese and putter! Have I lived to stand at the In emerald tufts, flowers parple, blue, and white;
taunt of one that makes fritters of English? This is Like sapphiro, pearl, and rich embroidery,
enough to be the decay of lust and late-walking, Backled below fair Knighthool's bonding knee :
through the realm. Fairies use flowers for their charactery;
Mrs. Page. Why, sir John, do you think, though Away; disperse : But, till 'tis one o'clock,
we would have thrust virtue out of our hearts by the Our dance of custom, round about the oak
head and shoulders, and have given ourselves without of Herne the hunter, let us not forget. Corder set: scruple to hell, that ever the devil con!d have made
Eva. Pray you, lock hand in hand; yourselves in you our delight. And twenty glowworms shall our lanterns be,
Ford. What, a hodge-pudding! a bag of flax? To guide our measure round about the tree.
Mrs. Page. A puffed man! Bat, stay ; I smell a man of middle earth.
Page. Old, cold, withered, and of intolerable enFal. Heavens defend me from that Welsh fairy, trails? lest he transform me to a piece of cheese! [birth
Ford. And one that is as slanderous as Satan? Pist. Vile worm thou wast o'erlook'd even in thy
Page. And as poor as Job! Quick. With trial-fire touch me his finger end :
Ford. And as wicked as his wife ! If he be chaste, the flame will back descend,
Eva. And given to fornications, and to taverns, and And turn him to no pain ; but if he start,
sack, and wine, and metheglins, and to drinkings, It is the flesh of a corrupted heart.
and swearings, and starings, pribbles and prabbles! Pist. A trial, come.
Fal. Well, I am yoar theme: you have the start of Eva.
Come, will this wood take fire ? me; I am dejected; I am not able to answer the
[They burn him with their Tapers. Welsh fannel ; ignorance itself is a plummet o'er Fal. Oh, oh, oh!
me : use me as you will. Quick. Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire ! Ford. Marry, sir, we'll bring you to Windsor, to About him, fairies; sing a scornful rhyme :
one Master Brook, that you have cozened of money, And, as you trip, still pinch him to your time.
to whom you should have been a pander: over and Eva. It is right; indeed he is full of lecheries and above that you have suffered, I think, to repay that iniquity.
money will be a biting aflliction.
Mrs. Ford. Nay, husband, let that go to make SONG.
Forgive that som, and so we'll all be friends.
Ford. Well, here's my hand; all's forgiven at last.
Page. Yet be cheerful, knight : thou shalt eat a Kindled with unchasłe desire,
posset to-night at my house, where I will desire thee Fed in heart, whose flames aspire,
to laugh at my wife, that now laughs at thee: Tell As thoughts do blow them, higher and higher. her, master Slender hath married her daughter. Pinch him, fairies, mutually;
Mrs. Page. Doctors doubt that: If Anne Page be Pinch him for his villany;
my danghter, she is, by this, doctor Caius' wife. Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about,
[Aside. Till candles, and starlight, and moonshine, be out.
Slen. Whoo, ho ! ho ! father Page ! green; Slender another Way, and takes off a Fairy
Page. Son ! how now! how now, son ? have you in white; and Fenton comes, and steals away Mrs.
despatched ? Anne Page. A noise of Hunting is made within.
Slen. Despatched--I'll make the best in GloncesterAll the Fairies run away. Falstaff pulls off his shire know on't; would I were hang'd, la, else. Buck's Head, and rises.
Page. Of what, sont
Slen. I came yonder at Eton to marry mistress Enter Page, Ford, Mrs. Page, and Mrs. Ford.
Anne Page, and she's a great lubberly boy If it had They lay hold on him.
not been i'the church, I would have swinged him, or Page. Nay, do not fly: I think, we have watch'a he should have swinged me. If I did not think it you now;
had been Anne Page, would I might never stir, and Will none but Herne the hunter serve your turn? 'tis a post naster's boy.
Page. Upon my life then you took the wrong. Page. Now, mistress! how chance you went not
Slen. What need you tell me that! I think so, with master Slender! when I took a boy for a girl: If I had been married Mrs. Page. Why went you not with master docto him, for all he was in woman's apparel, I would tor, maid? not have had him.
Fent. You do amaze her: Hear the truth of it. Page. Why, this is your own folly. Did not I tell you would have married her most shamefully, you, how you should know my daughter by her gar Where there was no proportion held in love. ments!
The truth is, she and I, long since contracted, Slen. I went to her in white, and cry'd mum, and Are now so sure, that nothing can dissolve as. she cry'd budget, as Anne and I had appointed ; and The offence is holy, that she hath committed : yet it was not Anne, but a postmaster's boy.
And this deceit loses the name of craft, Eva. Jeshu! Master Slender, cannot you see but of disobedience, or unduteous title, marry boys?
Since therein she doth evitate and shun Page. O, I am vexed at heart: What shall I do? A thousand irreligious cursed hours, Mrs. Page. Good George, he not angry : I knew which forced marriage would have brought upon her. of your purpose; turned my daughter into green; Ford. Stand not amaz'd: here is no remedy:and, indeed, she is now with the doctor at the In love, the heavens themselves do gaide the state ; deanery, and there married.
Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fato. Enter Caius.
Fal. I am glad, though you have ta'en a special Caius. Vere is mistress Page ! By gar, I am co-stand to strike at me, that your arrow hath glaneed. zened ; I ha' married un garcon, a boy; un paisan,
Page. Well, what remedy? Fenton, heaven give by gar, a boy; it is not Anne Page: by gar, I am cozened.
What cannot be eschew'd, must be embracld. Mrs. Page. Why, did you take her in green?
Fal. When night-dogs run, all sorts of deer are Caius. Ay, be gar, and 'lis a boy: be gar, I'!!
chas'd. raise all Windsor.
Eva. I will dance and eat plams at your wedding. Ford. This is strange: Who hath got the right
Mrs. Page. Well, I will muse no further :-MasAnne ?
ter Fenton, Page. My heart misgives me : Here comes master | Good husband, let
us every one go home,
Heaven give you many, many merry days !
And laugh this sport o'er by a country fire;
Sir John and all.
Ford. Let it be so :--sir John, Anne. Pardon, good father, good my mother, par- To master Brook you yet shall hold your word; don!
For he, to-night, shall lie with Mrs. Ford. (Exeunt.
Twelfth Night; or, What You (Mill.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. Orsino, Duke of Illyria.
Servants to Olivia.
Olivia, a rich Countess.
Viola, in love with the Duke.
Maria, Olivia's Woman.
Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians, and Malvolio, Steward to Olivia.
other Attendants. SCENE, a City in Illyria; and the Sea-Coast near it.
Enter Valentine. SCENE I. An Apartment in the Duke's Palace. Val. So please my lord, I might not be admitted,
But from her hand maid do return this answer: Enter Dake, Curio, Lords, Musicians attending. The element itself, till seven years heat, Duke. If music be the food of love, play on,
Shall not be hold her face at ample view;
But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk, Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting,
And water once a day her chamber round, The appetite may sicken, and so die.
With eye-otiending brino; all this, to season That strain again ;--it had a dying fall :
A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresb, o, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sonth, And lasting, in her sad remembrance. That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Duke. O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame, Stealing, and giving odour.-Enough; no more ; To pay this debt of love but to a brother, "Tis not so sweet now, as it was before.
How will she love, when the rich golden shaft O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou ? Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else That notwithstanding ihy capacity
That live in her! when liver, brain, and heart, Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,
These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and fll'a Of what validity and pitch soever,
(Her sweet perfections), with one self king! Bat falls into abatement and low price,
Away before me to sweet beds of flowers; Even in a minute! so full of shapes is fancy, Love-thoughts lie rich, when canopied with bowers. That it alone is high-fantastical.
(Eseunt. Cur. Will yon go hunt, my lord! Duke.
What, Curio ?
SCENE II, The Sea-Coast. Cur.
The hart. Duke. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have :
Enter Viola, Captain, and Sailors. 0, when mine eyes did see Olivia first,
Vio. What country, friends, is this? Methought, she purg'd the air of pestilenee ;
Illyria, lady. That instant was I turn'd into a hart;
Vio. And what should I do in Illyria? And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,
My brother he is in Elysium.
(lors? E'er since pursue me.-How now! what news from Perchance, he is not drown'd;
What think you, saiher?
Cap. It is perchance, that you yourself were saved. Vio. O my poor brother! and so perchance may Sir To. Fie, that you'll say so! he plays o'the he be.
(chance, viol-de-gambo, and speaks three or four languages Cap. True, madam: and to comfort you with word for word without book, and hath all the good Assure yourself, after our ship did split,
gifts of nature. When you, and that poor number saved with you, Mar. He hath, indeed, -almost natural ; for, beHung on our driving boat, I saw your brother, sides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller; and, Most provident in peril, bind himself
but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the (Courage and hope both teaching him the practice) gust he hath in quarreiling, 'tis thought among the To a strong mast, that lived upon the sea;
prudent, he would quickly have the gift of a grave. Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back,
Sir To. By this hand, they are scoundrels, and I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves, sabstractors, that say so of him. Who are they? So long as I could see.
Mar. They that add moreover, he's drunk nightly Vio
For saying so, there's gold: in your company. Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,
Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece; I'll Whereto thy speech serves for authority,
drink to her, as long as there is a passage in my The like of him. Know'st thou this country ! throat, and drink in Illyria: he's a coward, and a
Cap. Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and born, coystril, that will not drink to my niece, till his Not three hours' travel from this very place. brains turn o'the toe, like parish-top. What, Vio. Who governs here!
wench? Castiliano yulgo; for here comes sir AnСар.
A noble duke, in nature, drew Ague-face.
Enter Sir Andrew Ague-cheek.
Sir And. Sir Toby Belch! how now, sir Toby Belch?
Sir And. Bless you, fair shrew.
Mar. And you too, sir.
Sir To. Accost, sir Andrew, accost.'
Sir And. What's that!
Sir And. 'Good mistress Accost, I desire better The love of fair Olivia.
acquaintance. Vio. What's she?
Mar. My name is Mary, sir. Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count
Sir And. Good mistress Mary Accost, That died some twelvemonth since; then leaving ber Sir To. You mistake, knight: accost, is, front In the protection of his son, her brother,
her, board her, woo her, assail her. Who shortly also died : for whose dear love,
Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake her They say, she hath abjur'd the company
in this company. Is that the meaning of accost! And sight of men.
Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen. Vio
o that I served that lady; Sir To. An thoa let part so, sir Andrew, 'would And might not be delivered to the world,
thou might'st never draw sword again. Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,
Sir And. An you part so, mistress, I would I What my estate is.
might never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you Сар. That were hard to compass;
think you have fools in hand! Because she will admit no kind of suit,
Mar. Sir, I bare not you by the hand. No, not the duke's.
Sir And. Marry, bat you shall have ; and here's Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, captain ;
my hand. And though that nature with a beauteous wall Mar. Now, sir, thought is free: I pray you, bring Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee
your hand to the battery-bar, and let it drink. I will believe, thou hast a mind that suits
Sir And. Wherefore, sweetheart? what's your With this thy fair and outward character.
metaphor ? I pray thee, and I'll pay thee bounteously,
Mar. It's dry, sir. Conceal me what I am ; and be my aid
Sir And. Why, I think so ; I am not such an ass, For such disguise as, haply, shall become
but I can keep my hand dry. But what's your jest ! The form of my intent. Pll serve this duke;
Mar. A dry jest, sir. Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him,
Sir And. Are you full of them! It may be worth thy paios; for I can sing,
Mar. Ay, sir; I have them at my fingers' ends: And speak to him in many sorts of music,
marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren. That will allow me very worth bis service,
(Erit. What else may hap, to time I will commit;
Sir To. O knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary: Only shape thou thy silence to my wit.
when did I see thee so pat down! Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mate I'll be :, Sir And. Never in your life, I think ; unless you When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see! see canary pat me down: methinks, sometimes I Vio. I thank thee: lead me on. (Eseunt. have no more wit than a Christian, or an ordinary
man has : but I am a great eater of beef, and, I beSCENE III. A Room in Olivia's House. lieve, that does harm to my wit.
Sir To. No question.
Sir And. An I thought that, I'd forswear it. I'll Sir To. What a plague means my niece, to take ride home to-morrow, sir Toby. the death of her brother thus ! I am sure, care's an Sir To. Pourquoy, my dear knight! enemy to life.
Sir And. What is pourquoy! do or not do! I Mar. By troth, sir Toby, you must come in ear- would I had bestowed that time in the tongues, that lier o'nights ; your cousin, my lady, lakes great ex- I have in fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting: 0, had ceptions to your ill hours.
I but followed the arts ! Sir To. Why, let her except before excepted.. Sir To. Then hadst thou had an excellent head of
Mar. Ay, but you must confine yourself within the bair. modest limits of order.
Why, would that have mended my bair? Sir To. Contine? I'll confine myself no finer than Sir To. Past question ; for thou seest, it will not I am these clothes are good enough to drink in, curl by nature. and so be these boots too ; an they be not, let them Sir And. But it becomes me well enough! does't hang themselves in their own straps.
Mar. That quafting and drinking will undo you: Slir To. Excellent; it hangs like fax on a distaff, I heard my lady talk of it yesterday, and of a fool and I hope to see a housewife take thee between her ish knight, that you brought in one night here, to be legs, and spin it off. her wooer.
Sit And. 'Faith, I'll home to-morrow, sir Toby: Sir To. Who? Sir Andrew Ague-cheek!
your niece will not be seen ; or, if she be, it's four Mar. Ay, he.
to one she'll none of me: the count himself, here Sir To. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria. hard by, wooes her. Mar. What's that to the purpose ?
Sir Io. She'll none o'the count: she'll not match Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats a year. above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit;
Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these I have heard her swear it. Tot, there's life in't, man. ducats; he's a very fool, and a prodigal.
Sir And. I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow
o'the strangest mind i'the world; I delight in Mar. Make that good. masques and revels sometimes altogether.
Clo. He shall see none to fear. Sir To. Art thou good at these kickshaws, knight? Mar. A good lenten answer: I can tell thee where
Sir And. As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be, that saying was born, of, I fear no colours. ander the degree of my betters; and yet I will not
Clo. "Where, good mistress Mary? compare with an old man.
Mar. In the wars; and that may you be bold to Sir To. What is thy excellence in a galliard, say in your foolery. knight!
Clo. Well, God give them wisdom, that have it; Sir And. 'Faith, I can cut a caper.
and those that are fools, let them use their talents. Sir To. And I can cut the mutton to't.
Mar. Yet you will be hånged, for being so long Sir And. And, I think, I have the back-trick, absent : or, to be turned away, is not that as good as simply as strong as any man in Illyria.
a hanging to you? Sir To. Wherefore are these things bid ? where- Clo. Many a good hanging prevents a bad marrifore have these gifts a curtain before them are they age; and, for turning away, let summer bear it out. like to take dust, like mistress Mall's picture? Why Mar. You are resolute then? dost thou not go to church in a galliard, and come Clo. Not so neither ; but I am resolved on two home in a coranto? My very walk should be a jig; points. I would not so much as make water, but in a sink- Mar. That, if one break, the other will hold ; or, #-pace. What dost thou mean? is it a world to if both break, your gaskips fall. hide virtues in? I did think, by the excellent con- Clo. Apt, in good faith ; very apt! Well, go thy stitution of thy leg, it was formed under the star of way; if sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert a galliard.
as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any in Iyria. Sir And. Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent Mar Peace, you rogue, no more o'that ; here well in a flame-colonred stock. Shall we set about comes my lady: make your excuse wisely, you were some revels?
(Exit. Sir To, What shall we do else ? were we not born
Enter Olivia and Malvolio. under Taurus ? Sir And. Taurus ? that's sides and heart.
Clo. Wit, an't be thy will, put me into good footSir To. No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let me see ing! Those wits, that ihink they have thee, do very thee caper: ha! higher: ha, ha!-excellent.
oft prove fools; and I, that am sure I lack thee, may [Exeunt.
pass for a wise man for what says Quinapalns?
Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit. God bless SCENE IV. A Room in the Duke's Palace. thee, lady!
oli. Take the fool away. Enter Valentine, and Viola in Man's Attire.
Clo. Do you not hear, tellows ? take away the lady. Val. If the duke continue these favours towards
oli. Go to, you are a dry fool; l'll no more of you: you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanc'd; be besides, you grow dishonest. hath known you but three days, and already you are Clo. Two faults, madonna, that drink and good no stranger.
counsel will amend: for give the dry fool driuk, then Vio. You either fear his humour, or my negligence, is the fool not dry; bid ihe dishonest merd himself; that you call in question the continuance of his love: if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if he cannot, is he inconstant, sir, in his favours !
let the botcher mend him: any thing, that's mended, Val. No, believe me.
is but patched ; virtue, that transgresses, is but Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants. patched with sin; and sin, that amends, is but
patched with virtue: if that this simple syllogism Fio. I thank you. Here comes the count.
will serve, so ; if it will not, what remedy? As there Duke. Who saw Cesario, ho ?
is no true cuckold but calamity, so beauty's a flower: Vio. On your attendance, my lord; here.
-the lady bade take away the fool; therefore, I Duke. Stand you awhile aloof.--Cesario, Thon know'st no less but all; I have unclasp'd
say again, take her away.
Oli. Sir, I bade them take away you. To thee the book even of my secret soul :
Clo, Misprision in the highest degree -Lady, CuTherefore, good yonth, address thy gait unto her;
cullus non facit monachum; that's as much as to say, Be not deny'd access, stand at her doors, And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow,
I wear not motley in my brain. Good madonna, Till thou have audience.
give me leave to prove you a fool. Vio. Sure, my poble lord,
Oli. Can yon do it! If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow
C'lo. Dexterously, good madonna.
Oli. Make your proof.
Clo. I must catechise you for it, madonna ; good Rather than make unprofited returu.
my mouse of virtue, answer me.
Oli. Well, sir, for want of other idleness, l'II 'bide Vio. Say, I do speak with her, my lord ; what then! Duke. 0, then unfold the passion of my love,
Clo. Good madonna, why mourn'st thou !
Oli. Good fool, for iny brother's death.
Clo. I think, his soul is in hell, madonna.
Oli. I know his soul is in heaven, fool. Vio. I think not so, my lord.
Clo. The more fool you, madonna, to monrn for Duke.
Dear lad, believe it; fool, gentlemen.
your brother's soul being in heaven. Take away the For they shall yet belie thy happy years, That say, thou art a man: Diana's lip
oli. What think you of this fool, Malvolio? doth
he not mend ? Is not more smooth and rabious; thy small pipe Is as the maiden's organ, sbrill and sound,
Mal. Yes; and shall do, till the pangs of death And all is semblative a woman's part.
shake him : infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever I know, thy constellation is right apt
make the better fool. For this affair :-Some four, or five, attend him;
Clo. God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the
better increasing your folly ! Sir Toby will be sworn, All if you will; for I myseif am best, When least in company: --Prosper well in this,
that I am no fox; but he will not pass his word for And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord,
two-pence that you are no fool. To call his fortunes thine.
Oli. How say you to that, Malvolio ?
Mal. I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such To woo your lady: yet ( A side] a barfal strife!
a barren rascal: Í say him put down the other day Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife. [Exeunt
with an ordinary fool, that has no more brain than
a stone. Look you now, he is ont of his guard alSCENE V. A Room in Olivia's House, ready; unless you laugh and minister occasion to Enter Maria and Clown.
him, he is gagged. I protest, I take these wise men,
that crow so at these set kind of fools, no better than Mar. Nay, either tell me where thon hast been, or the fools' zanies. I will not open my lips so wide as a bristle may Oli. O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and enter, in way of thy excuse : my lady will hang thee taste with a distempered appetite. To be generous, for thy absence.
guiltless, and of free disposition, is to take those Clo: Let ber hang me: he, that is well hanged in things for bird-boits, that you deem cannon-bullets : this world, needs to fear no colours.
there is no slander in an allowed fool, though he do
nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known discreet that question's out of my part. Good gentle one, man, though he do nothing but reprove.
give me modest assurance, if you be the lady of the cio. Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for house, that I may proceed in my speech. thou speakest well of fools !
Oli. Are you a comedian !
Vio. No, 'my profound heart: and yet, by the very Mar. Madam, there is at the gate a young gentle- fangs of malice, I swear, I am not that I play. Are man, much desires to speak with you.
you the lady of the house? oli. From the count Orsino, is it!
Oli. If I do not usurp myself, I am. Mar. I know not, madam; 'tis a fair young man, yourself; for what is yours to bestur, is not yours
Vio. Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp and well attended.
to reserve. Oli. Who of my people hold him in delay!
But this is from my commission: I will Mar. Sir Toby, Madam, your kinsman.
on with my speech in your praise, and then show you Oli. Fetch him off, I pray you ; le speaks nothing the heart of my message. but madınan: fie on bim! (Exit Maria.] Go you,
Oli. Come to what is important in't: I forgive you Malvolio : if it be a suit from the count, i am sick, the praise. or not at home; what yon will to dismiss it. [Exit
Vio. Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis Malvolio.) No you see, sir, bow your fooling grows poetical. old, and people dislike it.
Oli. It is the more like to be feigned ; I pray you Clo. Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy keep it in. I heard, you were sancy
at my gates : eldest son should be a fool: whose skuil Jove cram
and allowed your approach, rather to wonder at you with brains, for here he comes, one of thy kin, has than to hear you. If you be not mad,
be gone ; if a most weak pia mater.
you have reason, be brief: 'tis not that time of moon
with me, to make one in so skipping a dialogue. Enter Sir Toby Belch.
Mar. Will you hoist sail, sir! here lies your way. Oli. By mine honour, half drank-What is he at
Vio. No, good swabber I am to holl here a little the gate, cuusia !
longer. Some mollification for your giant,sweet lady. Sir Tó. A gentleman.
Oli. Tell me your mind. Oli. A gentleman? What gentleman!
Vio. I am a messeuger. Sir To. "Tis a gentleman here-A plague o'these Oli. Sure, you have some hideons matter to delipickle-herrings !-How now, sot?
ver, when the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak Clo. Good sir Toby,
your office. ou. Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early Vio. It alone concerns your ear. I bring no overby this lethargy?
ture of war, no taxation of homage; I hold the olive Sir To. Lechery! I defy lechery: there's one at in my hand: my words are as fuli of peace as matter.
Oli. Yet you began rudely. What are you? what Oli. Ay, marry? what is he?
would you ? Sir To. Let him be the devil, an he wil!, I care Vio. The rudeness, that hath appear'd in me, have not: give me faith, say I. Well, it's all one. (Exit. I learn'd from my entertainment. What I am, and Oli, What's a drunken man like, fool?
what I would, are as secret as maidenhead: to your Clo. Like a drown'd man, a fool, and a madman: ears, divinity; to any other's, profanation one draught above heat makes him a fool ; the se- oli. Give us the place alone : we will hear this cond mads him ; and a third drowns him.
divinity. [ Exit Maria.) Now, sir, what is your text! Oli. Go thou and seek the coroner, and let him sit Vio. Most sweet lady, o'my coz: for he's in the third degree of drink, he's Oli. A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said drown'd: go, look after him.
of it. Where lies your text? Clo. He is but mad yet, madonna; and the fool Vio. In Orsino's bosom. shall look to the mad man.
Oli. In his bosom I in wliat chapter of his bosom? Re-enter Malvolio.
Vio. To answer by the method, in the first of his Mal. Madam, yond young fello y swears he will heart. speak with yoa. I told him you were sick ; he takes Oli. O, I have read it; it is beresy. Have you no on him to understand so much, and therefore comes more to say? to speak with you : I told him you were asleep; he Vio. Good madam, let me see your face. seems to have a fore-knowledge of that too, and Oli. Have you any commission from your lord to therefore comes to speak with you. What is to be negociate with my face ! you are now out of your said to him, lady? he's fortified against any denial. text: but we will draw the curtain, and show you
Oli. Tell him, he shall not speak with me. the picture. Look you, sir, such a one as I was this Mal. He has been told so: and he says, he'll stand present: is't not well done?
[Unveiling at your door like a sheriff's post, and be the supporter Vio. Excellently done, if God did all. of a bench, bat be'll speak with you.
Oli, 'Tis in grain, sir; 'twill endure wind and weaOli. What kind of man is he?
ther, Mal. Why, of man kind.
Vio. "Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white Oli, Whal manner of man?
Nature's own sweet and canping hand laid on : Mal. Of very ill manner : he'll speak with yon, Lady, you are the cruel'st she alive, will you, or no.
If you will lead these graces to the grave, Oli. Of what personage, and years, is be?
And leave the world no copy. Mal. Not yet old enough for a man, nor young Oli. O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will enough for a boy; as a squash is before 'tis a peas - give out divers schedules of my heauty. it shall be cod, or a codling when 'tis almost an apple : 'tis inventoried; and every particle, and utensil, labelled with him e'en standing water, between boy and man. to my will : as, item, two lips indifferent red; item, He is very well-favoured, and he speaks very shrew two grey eyes, with lids to them; item, one neck, ishly: one would think, his mother's milk were one chin, and so forth. Were you sent hither to scarce out of bim.
'praise me! Oli. Let him approach : call in my gentlewoman. Vio. I see you what you are : you are too proud : Mal. Gentlewoman, my lady calls. (Exit. But, if you were the devil, you are fair.
My lord and master loves you ; 0, such love
Could be but recompens'd, though you were crown'd
How does he love me? Enter Viola,
Vio. With adorations, with fertile tears, Vio. The honoarable lady of the house, which is With groans that thunder love, with sigos of fire. she ?
Oli. Your lord does know my mind, I cannot love Oli. Speak to me, I shall answer for her. Your will? Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble, Chim:
Vio. Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth; beanty,--I pray you, tell me, if this be the lady of In voices well divulg'a, free, learn'd, and valiant, the house, for I never saw her: I would be loath to And, in dimension, and the shape of nature, cast away my speech; for, besides that it is excel- A gracious person : but yet I cannot love him; lently well penn'd, I have take great pains to con He might have took his answer long ago. it. Good beuuties, let me sustain no scorn; I am Vio. If I did love you in my master's flame, very comptible, even to the least sinister usage. With such a suffering, such a deadly life, Oli. Whence came you, sir?
In your denial I would find no sense, Vio. I can say little more than I have studied, and I would not understand it.