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.2

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 SCENE III.-Olivia's garden. Enter Sebastian. me word how thou findest him: I would we were Seb. This is the air; that is the glorious sun; 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 chamber. [Ere. Sir Toby and Mar. Clo. Hey, Robin, jolly Robin,

Tell me how thy lady does.

Mal. Fool,

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

Clo. Alas, why is she so?

Mal. Fool, I say;

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.
[Singing. 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 me
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 fol-
lowers, 10

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, and 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 beside 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 me in darkness, send ministers to me, asses, and do all they can to face me out of my wits.

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.

Take, and give back, affairs, and their despatch,
With such a smooth, discreet, and stable bearing,
As, 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, Clo. Maintain no words with him, good fellow.-Whiles12 you are willing it shall come to note; Who, I, sir? not I, sir. God b'wi'you, good sir What time we will our celebration keep

Mal. Sir Topas,

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.

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;-
heavens so shine,

-And

Mal. Good fool, help me to some light, and some paper; I tell thee, I am as well in any wits, as any That they may fairly note this act of mine! [Exe. man in Illyria.

Clo. Well a-day,-that you were, sir!

Mal. By this hand, I am good fool, some ink,

paper, and light, and convey what I will set down

ACT V.

to my lady; it shall advantage thee more than ever SCENE I.-The street before Olivia's house. 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 ?

(1) Regular conversation.

(2) Any other gem as a topaz. (3) Senses. (4) Taken possession of.

(5) Scolded, reprimanded.

Enter Clown and Fabian.

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

(6) A buffoon character in the old plays, and father of the modern harlequin.

(7) Account. (8) Reason.
(10) Servants. (11) Little chapel.

(9) Belief.

(12) Until

M

TWELFTH-NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL.

Clo. Good master Fabian, grant me another re-I know not what 'twas, but distraction. quest.

Fab. Any thing.

Clo. Do not desire to see this letter.

Fab. That is, to give a dog, and, in recompense, 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.

Act V.

Duke. Notable pirate! thou salt-water thief!
What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies,
Hast made thine enemies?
Whom thou, in terms so bloody, and so dear,

Ant.

Be pleas'd that I shake off these names you give me,
Orsino, noble sir,
Antonio never yet was thief, or pirate,

Though, I confess, on base and ground enough, From the rude sea's enrag'd and foamy mouth Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither': That most ungrateful boy there, by your side, His life I gave him, and did thereto add Did I redeem; a wreck past hope he was: All his in dedication: for his sake, My love, without retention, or restraint, Did I expose myself, pure for his love, Into the danger of this adverse town; Clo. Marry, sir, they praise me, and make an ass Where being apprehended, his false cunning Drew to defend him, when he was beset; of me; now my foes tell me plainly I am an ass: so (Not meaning to partake with me in danger,) that by my foes, sir, I profit in the knowledge of myself; and by my friends I am abused: so that, Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance, conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives While one would wink; denied me mine own And grew a twenty-years-removed thing, make your two affirmatives, why, then the worse for my friends, and the better for my foes. Duke. Why, this is excellent.

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

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, 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.

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?
I(No interim, not a minute's vacancy,)
Aut. To-day, my lord; and for three months
before
Both day and night did we keep company.

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.

Vio. Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me.
Duke. That face of his I do remember well;
Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmear'd
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,
Cry'd fame and honour on him.-What's the matter?
1 Off. Orsino, this is that Antonio,
That took the Phoenix, and her fraught,
Candy;

from

And this is he, that did the Tiger board,
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,
(4) Freight.

(1) Mischievous,

Enter Olivia and attendants.

But for thee, fellow, fellow, thy words are madness :
Duke. Here comes the countess; now heaven
Three months this youth hath tended upon me;
walks on earth.--
But more of that anon.- -Take him aside.

wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?
Oli. What would my lord, but that he may not
Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.
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 be

come him.

Like to the Egyptian thief, at point of death,
Duke. Why should I not, had I the heart to do it,
That sometime savours nobly?-But hear me this:
Kill what I love; a savage jealousy,
Since you to non-regardance cast my faith,
And that I partly know the instrument
Live you, the marble-breasted tyrant, still;
That screws me from my true place in your favour,
And whom, by heaven, I swear, I tender dearly,
But this your minion, whom, I know, you love,
Him will I tear out of that cruel eye,

(3) Dull, gros,

Sir And. Od's lifelings, here he is :-You broke Come boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mis-my head for nothing; and that that I did, I was

No, my lord, not I.
Oli. Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear,
That makes thee strangle thy propriety:1
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.—O, welcome, father!
Re-enter Attendant and Priest.

Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence,
Here to unfold (though lately we intended
To keep in darkness, what occasion now
Reveals before 'tis ripe,) what thou dost know,
Hath newly past between this youth and me.
Priest. A contract of eternal bond of love,
Confirmed by mutual joinder of your hands,
Attested by the holy close of lips,

Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings;
And all the ceremony of this compact
Seal'd in my function, by my testimony:

Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my

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?

Disown thy property. (2) Skin.
3) Otherways. (4) Serious dancers.

Vio. And died that day when Viola from her birth with the which I doubt not but to do myself much 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 my maiden weeds; by whose gentle help,
I was preserv'd, to serve this noble count:
All the occurrence of my fortune since
Hath been between this lady, and this lord.
Seb. So comes it, lady, you have been mistook:
[To Olivia.

But nature to her bias drew in that.
You would have been contracted to a maid;
Nor are you therein, by my life, deceiv'd;
You are betroth'd both to a maid and man.

Duke. Be not amaz'd; right noble is his blood.
If this be so, as yet the glass seems true,
I shall have share in this most happy wreck :
Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times,

[To Viola.

Thou never should'st love woman like to me.
Vio. And all those sayings will I over-swear;
And all those swearings keep as true in soul,
As doth that orbed continent the fire
That severs day from night.

Duke.

Give me thy hand;
And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds.
Vio. The captain, that did bring me first on shore,
Hath my maid's garments: he, upon some action,
Is now in durance; at Malvolio's suit,
A gentleman, and follower of my lady's.
Oli. He shall enlarge him:-Fetch Malvolio
hither:-

And yet, alas, now I remember me,
They say, poor gentleman, he's much distract.

Re-enter Clown, with a letter.

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,3 my princess, and give ear.

Oli. Read it you, sirrah.

right, or you much shame. Think of me as you please. Ileave my duty a little unthought of, and speak out of my injury."

The madly-used Malvolio.

Oli. Did he write this?
Clo. Ay, madam.
Duke. This savours not much of distraction.
Oli. See him deliver'd, Fabian; bring him hither.
[Exit Fabian.

My lord, so please you, these things further thought

on,

To think me as well a sister as a wife,
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
offer.-

Your master quits you; [To Viola.] and, for your service done him,

So much against the mettle of your sex,

So far beneath your soft and tender breeding,
And since you call'd me master for so long,
Here is my hand; you shall from this time be
Your master's mistress.

Oli.

A sister?-you are she.

Re-enter Fabian, with Malvolio.

Ay, my lord, this same :

Duke. Is this the madman?
Oli,

How now, Malvolio?
Mal.
Notorious wrong.

Madam, you have done me wrong,

Oli.
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-garter'd to you,
To put on yellow stockings, and to frown
Upon sir Toby, and the lighters 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 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, [To Fabian. Which I have wonder'd at. In hope it shalt not, Fab. [reads. By the Lord, madam, you wrong Most freely I confess, myself, and Toby, me, and the world shall know it: though you have Set this device against Malvolio here, put me into darkness, and given your drunken Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my We had conceiv'd against him: Maria writ senses as well as your ladyship. I have your own The letter, at sir Toby's great importance;" letter that induced me to the semblance I put on; In recompence whereof, he hath married her. How with a sportful malice it was follow'd,

(1) Hinders. (2) Voice. (4) Frame and constitution.

(3) Attend. (5) Inferior.

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.
[Exil.

Oli. He hath been most notoriously abus'd.
Duke. Pursue him, and entreat him to peace:-
He hath not told us of the captain yet;
When that is known, and golden time convents,2
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. [Exeunt.

But when I came to man's estate,

With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
'Gainst knave and thief men shut their gate,
For the rain it raineth every day.

But when I came, alas! to wive,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
By swaggering could I never thrive,
For the rain it raineth every day.
But when I came unto my bed,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
With toss-pots still had drunken head,
For the rain it raineth every day.

A great while ago the world begun,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
But that's all one, our play is done,
And we'll strive to please you every day.
[Exil.

This play is in the graver part elegant and easy, and in some of the lighter scenes exquisitely humorous. Ague-check is drawn with great propriety, but his character is, in a great measure, that of natural fatuity, and is therefore not the proper prey of a satirist. The soliloquy of Malvolio is truly comic; he is betrayed to ridicule merely by his pride. The marriage of Olivia, and the succeeding perplexity, though well enough contrived to divert on the stage, wants credibility, and fails to produce the proper instruction required in the dra ina, as it exhibits no just picture of life.

JOHNSON.