If one should be a prey, how much the better The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.— Vio. Then westward-lo: I pr'ythee, tell me, what thou think'st of me. Vio. That you do think, you are not what you are. I wish it might; for now I am your fool. Oli. O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his lip! A murd'rous guilt shows not itself more soon Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon. By maidhood, honor, truth, and every thing, I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth, And so adieu, good madam; never more Will I my master's tears to you deplore. [Ciock strikes. Oli. Yet come again: for thou, perhaps, may'st move That heart, which now abhors, to like his love. ACT V. [Exeunt. Sebastian, the twin-brother of Viola, is saved from the wreck in which he believes his sister was lost. Having business at Orsino's court, he arrives there accompanied by his friend Antonio. He is supposed to be the exact counterpart of his sister, as she appears, when disguised as the Page. In passing near Olivia's house, he is encountered by a servant of the lady's, who has been sent to request Viola will come and speak with Olivia. He denies all knowledge of the lady, but Olivia enters, and believing him to be Viola, entreats him to enter the house: he consents,-and the lady so charms him, that he yields a willing assent to her proposals of immediate marriage. The Duke still persist ing in his passion for Olivia, determines to seek the lady in person, accompanied by Viola. On reaching Olivia's house, he is met by Antonio, Sebastian's friend, who accosts Viola, supposing her to be Sebastian. The Duke, supposing the man to be insane, indignantly rebukes him.—Olivia enters from the house, and seeing Viola, addressea her as her lately married husband. 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; Oli. What would my lord, but that he may not have, Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable ?— Cesario, you do not keep promise with me. Vio. Madam? Duke. Gracious Olivia, Oli. What do you say, Cesario? -Good my lord, Vio. My lord would speak, my duty hushes me. 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. Like to the Egyptian thief, at point of death, Kill what I love; a savage jealousy, That sometime savors nobly?-But hear me this: That screws me from my true place in your favor, Where he sits crowned in his master's spite. Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mischief: To spite a raven's heart within a dove. Vio. And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly, To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die. [Going [Following If I do feign, you witnesses above, Punish my life, for tainting of my love! Oli. Ah me, detested! how am I beguil'd! Vio. Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong? Come away. [Exit an Attendan Duke. Oli. Ay, husband, can he that deny? Duke. Her husband, sirrah? No, my lord, not I. Oli. Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear, Re-enter Attendant and Priest. Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence, Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings; Seal'd in my function, by my testimony: Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave, Duke. O, thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be Oli. Enter SEBASTIAN. Duke. One face, one habit, and two persons; A natural perspective, that is, and is not How have the hours rack'd and tortur'd me, [TO VIOLA Ant. Sebastian are you? Seb. Fear'st thou that, Antonio? Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian? Seb. Do I stand there? I never had a brother: What countryman? what name? what parentage? Seb. Were you a woman, as the rest goes even, Vio. And died that day when Viola from her birth Seb. O, that record is lively in my soul! I'll bring you to a captain in this town, Where lie my maiden weeds; by whose gentle help All the occurrence of my fortune since Seb. So comes it, lady, you have been mistook: But nature to her bias drew in that, [TO VIO [TO OLIVYA 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.- LTO VIO As doth that orbed continent the fire That severs day from night. Duke. Give me thy hand; Vio. The captain, that did bring me first on shore, A gentleman, and follower of my lady's. My lord, so please you, these things further thought 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 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, Oli. A sister?-you are she. Duke. A solemn combination shall be made |