ACT V. SCENE -The Street before Olivia's House. Enter Clown and FABIAN. Fab. Now, as thou lov'st 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. Vio. He did me kindness, sir; drew on my side; But, in conclusion, put strange speech upon me, I know not what 'twas, but distraction. 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? Orsino, noble sir, Be pleas'd that I shake off these names you give me ; Ant. Fab. That is, to give a dog, and, in recompense, Antonio never yet was thief, or pirate, desire my dog again. Enter DUKE, VIOLA, and Attendants. 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. 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 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. Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmear'd Though, I confess, on base and ground enough, Vio. Enter OLIVIA and Attendants. Duke. Here comes the countess; now heaven walks on earth. But for thee, fellow, fellow, thy words are madness: Oli. What would my lord, but that he may not have, Vio. Madam? Duke. Gracious Olivia, Oli. What do you say, Cesario?-Good my lord, Vio. My lord would speak, my duty hushes me. Oli. If it be aught to the old tune, my lord, It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear, As howling after music. Duke. Still so cruel? Oli. Still so constant, lord. Duke. What! to perverseness? you uncivil lady, To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars My soul the faithfull'st offerings hath breath'd out, That e'er devotion tender'd! What shall I do? Oli. Even what it please my lord, that shall become 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 sometime 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 [Following. After him I love, Oli. Where goes Cesario? Oli. Ah me, detested! how am I beguil'd! Oli. Whither, my lord? Duke. Husband? Ay, husband, can he that deny? Duke. Her husband, sirrah? Vio. No, my lord, not I. Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence, Priest. A contract of eternal bond of love, Since when, my watch hath told me, toward iny grave, Duke. O, thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be, When time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy case? Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow, That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow? Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feet, Where thou and I henceforth may never meet. Vio. My lord, I do protest,— Oli. O, 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 is:-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 a thing by a bloody coxcomb. Enter Sir TOBY BELCH, drunk, led by th 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-measure, or a pavin, I hate a drunken rogue. with them? Oli. Away with him: Who hath made this havoc Sir And. I'll help you, sir Toby, because we'll be dressed together. comb, and a knave? a thin-faced knave, a gull? Sir To. Will you help an ass-head, and a coxOli. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to. [Exeunt Clown, Sir TOBY, and Sir ANDREW. Enter SEBASTIAN. Seb. I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kinsBut, had it been the brother of my blood, [man; I must have done no less, with wit, and safety. Duke. One face, one voice, one habit, and two A natural perspective, that is, and is not. [persons; Seb. Antonio, O my dear Antonio! How have the hours rack'd and tortur'd me. Ant. Sebastian are you? Seb. Fear'st thou that, Antonio ? Ant. How have you made division of yourself An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian ! Oli. Most wonderful! Seb. Do I stand there? I never had a brother - Seb. Vio. My father had a mole upon his brow. Vio. And died that day when Viola from her birth Had number'd thirteen years. Seb. O, that record is lively in my soul! He finished, indeed, his mortal act, That day that made my sister thirteen years. Vio. If nothing lets to make us happy both But this my masculine usurp'd attire, Do not embrace me, till each circumstance Of place, time, fortune, do cohere, and jump, That I am Viola: which to confirm, I'll bring you to a captain in this town, Where lie iny maiden weeds; by whose gentle he I was preserv'd, to serve this noble count: I All the occurrence of my fortune since But nature to her bias drew in that. Duke. Be not amaz'd; right noble is his blood. Vio. And all those sayings will I over-swear; Duke. Re-enter Clown, with a letter. A most extracting frenzy of mine own Clo. Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the stave's end, as well as a man in his case may do: he has here writ a letter to you, I should have given it to you today morning; but as a madman's epistles are no gospels, so it skills not much, when they are delivered. Oli. Open it, and read it. Clo. Look then to be well edified, when the fool delivers the madman:-By the Lord, madam,Oli. How now! art thou mad? Clo. No madam, I do but read madness: an your ladyship will have it as it ought to be, you must allow vor. Oli Pr'ythee, read i'thy right wits. Clo. So I do, madonna; but to read his right wits, is to read thus: therefore perpend, my princess, and give ear. Oli. Read it you, sirrah. [To FABIAN. Fab. [reads.] By the Lord, modam, you wrong me, and the world shall know it: though you have put me into darkness, and given your drunken cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my senses as well as your ladyship. I have your own letter that induced me to the semblance I put on; with the which I doubt not but to do myself much right, or you much shame. Think of me as you please. I leave my duty a little unthought of, and speak out of my injury. Oli. Did he write this? Clo. Ay, madam. The madly-used Malvolio. Duke. This savours not much of distraction. Oli. See him delivered, Fabian; bring him hither. [Exit FABIAN. My lord, so please you, these things further thought To think me as well a sister as a wife, [on, One day shall crown the alliance on't, so please you, Here at my house, and at my proper cost Duke. Madam, I am most apt to embrace your [service done him, Your master quits you; [To VIOLA.] and, for your So much against the mettle of your sex, So far beneath your soft and tender breeding, offer Have I, Malvolio? no. 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; Or say, 'tis not your seal, nor 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; Bade me come smiling, and cross-gartered 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; thou cam'st in smiling, And in such forms which here were presuppos'd Upon thee in the letter. Pr'ythee, be content: This practice hath most shrewdly pass'd upon thee: 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 The letter, at sir Toby's great importance; In recompense whereof, he hath married her. How with a sportful mažice it was follow'd, May rather pluck on laughter than revenge; If that the injuries be justly weigh'd, That have on both sides past. 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 gagg'd: 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 abus'd. 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-Mean time, 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. [Exeunt MEASURE FOR This play was not printed till 1623.-Mr. Malone supposes it to The plot is found in Cinthio's Novels, Decad 8. Novel 5-But Shakspeare took the subject of his drama from: an old play called Promos and Cassandra, written by George Whetstone, and published in 1578 A hint, like a seed, is more or less prolific, according to the qualities of the soil on which it is thrown. The story, which PERSONS REPRESENTED. VICENTIO, Duke of Vienna. ANGELO, lord deputy in the Duke's absence. in the hands of Whetstone produced little more than barren insipidity, under the culture of Shakspeare became fertile of entertainment. The curious reader will find that the old play of Promos and Cassandra, exhibits an almost complete embryo of Measure for Measure; yet the hints on which it is formed are so slight, that it is nearly as impossible to detect them, as it is to point out in the acorn the future ramifications of the oak.-ALONE. Exceeds, in that, the lists of all advice My strength can give you: Then no more remain: ESCALUS, an ancient lord, joined with Angelo in the Our city's institutions, and the terms deputation. CLAUDIO, a young gentleman. Lucio, a fantastic. Two other like gentlemen. VARRIUS, a gentleman, servant to the Duke. Provost. For common justice, you are as pregnant in, [hither, [Exit an Attendant. Duke. Enter ANGELO. Look, where he comes. Duke. Angelo, There is a kind of character in thy life, As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'a The smallest scruple of her excellence, Both thanks and use. But I do bend my speech To one that can my part in him advértise; In our remove, be thou at full ourself: Live in thy tongue and heart: Old Escalus, Ang. numbe Now, good my lord, Ang. Nor need you, on mine honour, have to do As to your soul seems good. Give me your hand; Ang. "Ts so with me:- Escal. I'll wait upon your honour. SCENE II.-A Street. [Exeunt. Lucio. Thou concludest like the sanctimonious pirate, that went to sea with the ten commandments, but scraped one out of the table. 2 Gent. Thou shalt not steal? Lucio. Ay, that he razed. ; 1 Gent Why, 'twas a commandment to command the captain and all the rest from their functions they put forth to steal: There's not a soldier of us all, that, in the thanksgiving before meat, doth relish the petition well that prays for peace. 2 Gent. I never heard any soldier dislike it. Lucio. I believe thee; for, I think, thou never wast where grace was said. 2 Gent. No? a dozen times at least. 1 Gent. What' in metre? now? Lucio. I think thou dost; and, indeed, with most painful feeling of thy speech: I will, out of thine own confession, learn to begin thy health; but whilst I live, forget to drink after thee. 1 Gent. I think, I have done myself wrong; have I not? 2 Gent. Yes, that thou hast; whether thou art tainted, or free. Lucio. Behold, behold, where madam Mitigation comes! I have purchased as many diseases under her roof, as come to 2 Gent. To what, I pray? 1 Gent. Judge. 2 Gent. To three thousand dollars a year. 1 Gent. Ay, and more. Lucio. A French crown more 1 Gent. Thou art always figuring diseases in me : but thou art full of error; I am sound. Lucio. Nay, not as one would say, healthy, but so sound, as things that are hollo v thy bones are hollow: impiety has made a feast of thee. Enter Bawd. 1 Gent. How now? Which of your hips has the most profound sciatica? Bawd. Well, well; there's one yonder arrested, and carried to prison, was worth five thousand of you all. 1 Gent. Who's that, I pray thee! Bawd. Marry, sir, that's Claudio, signior Claudio. 1 Gent. Claudio to prison! 'tis not so. Bawd. Nay, but I know, tis so: I saw him arrested; saw him carried away; and, which is more, within these three days his head's to be chopped off. Lucio. But, after all this fooling, I would not have it so: Art thou sure of this? Bawd. I am too sure of it: and it is for getting madam Julietta with chil Lucio. Believe me, this may be: he promised to meet me two hours since; and he was ever precise in promise keeping. 2 Gent. Besides, you know, it draws something near to the speech we had to such a purpose. 1 Gent. But most of all, agreeing with the procla mation. Lucio. Away; let's go learn the truth of it. [Exeunt Lucio and Gentlemen. Bawd. Thus, what with the war, what with the sweat, what with the gallows, and what with poverty, I am custom-shrunk. How now? what's the news with you? Enter Clown. Cto. Yonder man is carried to prison. Bawd. But what's his offence? Clo. Groping for trouts in a peculiar river. |