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Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable ?
Oli. If it be aught to the old tune, my lord,
Still so cruel ?
Duke. What! to perverseness? you uncivil lady,
him. Duke. Why should I not, had I the heart to do it, Like to the Egyptian thief, at point of death, Kill what I love ; a savage jealousy, That sometimes savours nobly ?-But hear me this : Since you to non-regardance cast my faith, And that I partly know the instrument That screws me from my true place in your favour, Live you, the marble-breasted tyrant, still ; But this, your minion, whom, I know, you love, And whom, by heaven I swear, I tender dearly, Him will I tear out of that cruel eye, Where he sits crowned in his master's spite.
Come boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mischief:
Vio. And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly,
After him I love,
Oli. Ah me, detested ! how am I beguil'd!
Come, away. [To Viola, Oli. Whither my lord ?-Cesario, husband, stay.
' Duke. Husband ?
Ay, husband; Can he that deny ? Duke. Her husband, sirrah? Vio.
No, my lord, not I. Oli. Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear, That makes thee strangle thy propriety : Fear not, Cesario, take thy fortunes up; Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art As great as that thou fear'st.-0, welcome, father!
Re-enter Attendant, and Priest.
Priest. A contract of eternal bond of love,
grave, I have travell’d but two hours.
Duke. O, thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be,
Vio. My lord, I do protest,
0, do not swear; Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear. Enter Sir ANDREW AGUE-Cheek, with his head broke.
Sir And. For the love of God, a surgeon; send one presently to Sir Toby.
Oli. What's the matter?
Sir And. He has broke my head across, and has given sir Toby a bloody coxcomb too: for the love of God, your help: I had rather than forty pound, I were at home.
Oli. Who has done this, sir Andrew ?
Sir And. The count's gentleman, one Cesario : we took him for a coward, but he's the very devil incardinate.
Duke. My gentleman, Cesario?
Sir And. Od's lifelings, here he his :-You broke my head for nothing; and that that I did, I was set on to do't by sir Toby.
Vio. Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you: You drew your sword upon me, without cause; But I bespake you fair, and hurt you not.
Sir And. If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me; I think, you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb.
Enter Sir Toby Belch, drunk, led by the Clown. Here comes sir Toby halting, you shall hear more : but if he had not been in drink, he would have tickled you othergates than he did.
Duke. How now, gentleman ? how is't with you?
Sir To. That's all one; he has hurt me, and there's the end on't.—Sot, did'st see Dick surgeon, sot?
Clo. O he's drunk, sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyes were set at eight i'the morning.
Sir To. Then he's a rogue. After a passy-mea: sure, or a payin 6, I hate a drunken rogue.
Oli. Away with him : Who hath made this havock with them?
Sir And. I'll help you, sir Toby, because we'll be dressed together.
Sir To. Will you help an ass-head, and a coxcomb, and a knave? a thin-faced knave, a gull ? Oli. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to.
[Exeunt Clown, Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew.
ago. Duke. One face, one voice, one habit, and two
Seb. Antonio, O my dear Antonio !
Ant. Sebastian are you?
Fear'st thou that, Antonio?
Oli. Most wonderful !