Sir And. An you love me, let's do't: I am dog at a catch. Clo. By'r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well. Sir And. Most certain: let our catch be, Thou knave. Clo. Hold thy peace, thou knave, knight? I shall be constrain'd in't, to call thee knave, knight. Sir And. "Tis not the first time I have constrain'd one to call me knave. Begin, fool; it begins, Hold thy peace.1 Clo. I shall never begin, if I hold my peace. 3 Mal. Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady's favour at any thing more than contempt, you would not give means for this uncivil rule; she shall know of it, by this hand. [Exit. Mar. Go shake your ears. Sir And. "Twere as good a deed as to drink when a man's a hungry, to challenge him to the field; and then to break promise with him, and make a fool of him. Sir To. Do't knight; I'll write thee a challenge; or I'll deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth. Mar. Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for to-night; since the youth of the count's was to-day with my lady, she is much out of quiet. For monsieur Malvolio, let me alone with him: if I do not gull him into a nay-word,10 and make him a common recreation, do not think I have wit enough to lie straight my bed: I know I can do it. Sir To. Possess us, possess us; tell us something of him. Enter MARIA. Mar. What a caterwauling do you keep here! If my lady have not called up her steward, Malvolio, and bid him turn you out of doors, never trust me. Sir To. My lady's a Cataian,2 we are politi-in cians; Malvolio's a Peg-a-Ramsey, and Three merry men we be. Am not I consanguineous? am I not of her blood? Tilley-valley, lady! There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady, lady! [Singing. Clo. Beshrew me, the knight's in admirable fooling. Sir And. Ay, he does well enough, if he be disposed, and so do I too; he does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural. [Singing. Sir To. O, the twelfth day of December,— Enter MALVOLIO. Mar. Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of Pu ritan. Sir And. O, if I thought that, I'd beat him like a dog. Sir To. What, for being a Puritan? thy exquisite reason, dear knight? Sir And. I have no exquisite reason for't, but I have reason good enough. Mar. The devil a Puritan that he is, or any thing constantly but a time pleaser; an affectioned 12 ass, that cons state without book, and utters it by great Mal. My masters, are you mad? or what are you! swarths:13 the best persuaded of himself, so cramHave you no wit, manners, nor honesty, but to gab-med, as he thinks, with excellencies, that it is his ble like tinkers at this time of night? Do you make an alehouse of my lady's house, that ye squeak out your coziers' catches without any mitigation or remorse of voice? Is there no respect of place, persons, nor time, in you? ground of faith, that all, that look on him, love him; and on that vice in him will my revenge find notable cause to work. Sir To. What wilt thou do? Mar. I will drop in his way some obscure episSir To. We did keep time, sir, in our catches.tles of love; wherein, by the colour of his beard, the Sneck up!" shape of his leg, the manner of his gait, the exMal. Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My pressure of his eye, forehead, and complexion, he lady bade me tell you, that though she harbours you shall find himself most feelingly personated: I can as her kinsman, she's nothing allied to your disor-write very like my lady, your niece; on a forgotten ders. If you can separate yourself from your misdemeanors, you are welcome to the house; not, an it would please you to take leave of her, she is very willing to bid you farewell. Sir To. Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be Clo. What an if you do? [Singing. Sir To. Shall I bid him go, and spare not? Sir To. Out o' time? sir, ye lie.-Art any more than a steward? Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale? Clo. Yes, by Saint Anne; and ginger shall be hot i'the mouth too. Sir To. Thou'rt i'the right.-Go, sir, rub your chain with crums:-A stoop of wine, Maria! to this division of souls was intended. Sir Toby rather meant that the catch should be so harmonious that it would hale the soul out of a weaver thrice over, a rhodomontade way of expressing, that it would give this warm lover of song thrice more delight than it would give another man. 1 This catch is to be found in 'Pammelia, Musicke's Miscellanie, 1618. The words and music are in the Variorum Shakspeare. 2 This word generally signified a sharper. Sir Toby is too drunk for precision, and uses it merely as a term of reproach. 3 Name of an obscene old song. 4 An interjection of contempt equivalent to fiddlefaddle, possibly from the Latin Titivillitium. 5 Sir Toby, in his cups, is full of the fragments of old ballads: such as, 'There dwelt a man in Babylon' matter we can hardly make distinction of our hands. Sir To. He shall think, by the letters that thou wilt drop, that they come from my niece, and that she is in love with him. Mar. My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour. Sir And. I was adored once too. Sir To. Let's to bed, knight.-Thou hadst need send for more money. Sir And. If I cannot recover your niece, I am foul way out. 1 a Sir To. Send for money, knight; if thou hast her not i' the end, call me Cut.1 Sir And. If I do not, never trust me, take it how you will. Sir To. Come, come; I'll go burn some sack, Now, good Cesario, but that piece of Cur. He is not here, so please your lordship, that should sing it. Duke. Who was it? Duke. Seek him out, and play the tune the while. Come hither, boy; if ever thou shalt love, Duke. My life upon't, young though thou art, thine eye Vio. time or another. Duke. Give me now leave to leave thee. Clo. Now, the melancholy god protect thee; and the tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffata, for thy mind is a very opal1-I would have men of Thou dost speak masterly:such constancy put to sea, that their business might be every thing, and their intent every where; for that's it, that always makes a good voyage of nothing.-Farewell. [Exit Clown. Duke. Let all the rest give place.[Exeunt CURIO and Attendants. Once more, Cesario, Get thee to yon' same sovereign cruelty: Tell her, my love, more noble than the world, Prizes not quantity of dirty lands; The parts that fortune hath bestow'd upon her, Tell her, I hold as giddily as fortune; But 'tis that miracle, and queen of gems, That nature pranks her in, attracts my soul. Vio. But, if she cannot love you, sir? Duke. I cannot be so answer'd. Of your complexion. Duke. She is not worth thee then. What years, i'faith? Vio. About your years, my lord. Duke. Too old, by heaven; Let still the woman take An elder than herself; so wears she to him, Vio. I think it well, my lord. 1 This term of contempt probably signified, call me gelding or horse. Falstaff, in Henry IV. Part I, seys, Spit in my face, call me horse.' It is of common occurrence in old plays. Cut was a common contraction of curtail. One of the carriers' horses in the first part of Henry IV. is called Cut. Vio. Can bide the beating of so strong a passion that it was a common attribute of woman, coupled most- 2 Recalled, repeated terms, alluding to the repeti-led crape, anciently called cypress, is here meant, or tions in songs. 3 i. e. to the heart. whether a coffin of cypress wood was intended. The cypress was used for funeral purposes; and the epithet 4 The word favour is ambiguously used. In the pre-sad is inconsistent with a white shroud. It is even pos ceding speech it signified countenance. 5 i. e. consumed, worn out. 6 i. e. chaste maids, employed in making lace. This passage has sadly puzzled the commentators; their conjectures are some of them highly amusing. Johnson says, 'free is perhaps vacant, unengaged, easy in mind. Steevens once thought it meant unmarried; then that it might mean cheerful: and at last concludes that its precise meaning cannot easily be pointed out.' Warton mentions, in his notes on L'Allegro of Milton, sible that branches of cypress only may be meant. We see the shroud was stuck all with yew, and cypress may have been used in the same manner. In Quarles's Argalus aud Parthenia, a knight is introduced, whose -horse was black as jet, His furniture was round about beset With branches slipt from the sad cypress tree. 10 The opal is a gein which varies its hues, as it is viewed in different lights. 11 That beauty which nature decks her in. No motion of the liver, but the palate,- 109 der i'the sun, practising behaviour to his own sha- Mal. 'Tis but fortune; all is fortune. Maria once told me, she did affect me: and I have heard herself come thus near, that, should she fancy, it uses me with a more exalted respect, than any one should be one of my complexion. Besides, she else that follows her. What should I think on't? Sir To. Here's an overweening rogue! Fab. O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him; how he jets under his advanced plumes! Sir And. 'Slight I could so beat the rogue:- Mal. To be count Malvolio ;- Sir And. Pistol him, pistol him. Mal. There is example fort; the lady of the Fab. O, peace! now he's deeply in; look how imagination blows him. Mal. Having been three months married to her, sitting in my state, Sir To. O, for a stone bow, to hit him in the eye! Sir To. Fire and brimstone ! poris pruritum quendam excitat, unde nomen Urtica of Malvolio, in his humour of state, bear a strong re- Fab. Did not I say, he would work it out? the cur is excellent at faults. Mal. M, But then there is no consonancy in the sequel; that suffers under probation: A should follow, but O does. Fab. And O shall end, I hope. Sir To. Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make him cry, O. Mal. And then I comes behind. Fab. Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you might see more detraction at your heels, than for tunes before you. Mal. M, Ö, A, I;-This simulation is not as the former :-and yet, to crush this a little, it would Sir And. I knew, 'twas I; for many do call me bow to me, for every one of these letters are in my fool. Mal. What employment have we here? [Taking up the letter. Fab. Now is the woodcock near the gin. Sir To. O, peace! and the spirit of humours intimate reading aloud to him? Mal. By my life, this is my lady's hand: these be her very C's, her U's, and her 7's; and thus makes she her great P's. It is, in contempt of question, her hand. Sir And. Her C's, her U's, and her T's: Why that? Mal. [reads] To the unknown beloved, this, and my good wishes: her very phrases!-By your leave, wax-Soft!-and the impressure her Lucrece, with which she uses to seal: 'tis my lady: To whom should this be? Fab. This wins him, liver and all. But who? Lips do not move, No man must know. No man must know.-What follows? the numbers altered!-No man must know:-If this should be thee, Malvolio? Sir To. Marry, hang thee, brock!! Sir To. Excellent wench, say I. Mal. M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.-Nay, but first, let me see,-let me see,-let me see. Fab. What a dish of poison has she dressed him! Sir To. And with what wing the stannyel2 checks at it! Mal. I may command where I adore. Why, she may command me; I serve her, she is my lady. Why, this is evident to any formal capacity." There is no obstruction in this;-And the end, What should that alphabetical position portend? if I could make that resemble something in me, Softly!-M, O, A, I.— Sir To. O, ay! make up that :-he is now at a cold scent. Fab. Sowter will cry upon't, for all this, though it be as rank as a fox. Mal. M,-Malvulio;--M,-why, that begins my 2 The common stone-hawk, which inhabits old buildings and rocks. To check, says Latham in his Book of Falconry, is, when crows, rooks, pies, or other birds coming in view of the hawk, she forsaketh her natural flight to fly at them.' 3 i. e. to any one in his senses, or whose capacity is not out of form. 4 Sowter is here used as the name of a hound. Sowterly is often employed as a term of abuse: a Souter was a cobbler or botcher; quasi Sutor. 5 Skin of a snake. 6 i. e. adverse, hostile. 7 A fashion once prevailed for some time of wearing the garters crossed on the leg. It should be remembered that rich and expensive garters worn below the knee name. Soft; here follows prose.-If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I am above thee; but be not afraid of greatness: Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them. Thy fates open their hands; let thy blood and spirit embrace them. And, to inure thyself to what thou art like to be, cast thy humble slough, and appear fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants: let thy tongue tang arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of singularity: She thus advises thee, that sighs for thee. Remember who commended thy yellow stockings; and wished to see thee ever crossgartered: I say, remember. Go to; thou art made, if thou desirest to be so; if not, let me see thee a steward still, the fellow of servants, and not worthy to touch fortune's fingers. Farewell. She that would alter services with thee,-The fortunate-unhappy. Day-light and champian discovers not more: this is open. I will be proud, I will read politic authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off gross acquaintance, I will be point-de-vice, the very man. I do not now fool myself, to let imagination jade me ; for every reason excites to this, that my lady loves me. She did commend my yellow stockings of late, she did praise my leg being cross-gartered; and in this she manifests herself to my love, and, with a kind of injunction, drives me to these habits of her liking. I thank my stars, I am happy. I will be strange, stout, in yellow stockings, and cross-gartered, even with the swiftness of putting on. Jove, and my stars be praised!-Here is yet a postscript. Thou canst not choose but know who I am. If thou entertainest my love, let it appear in thy smiling; thy smiles become thee well: therefore in my presence still smile, dear my sweet, I pr'ythee. Jove, I thank thee. I will smile; I will do every thing that thou wilt have me. 9 [Exit. Fab. I will not give my part of this sport for a pension of thousands to be paid from the Sophy.10 Sir To. I could marry this wench for this device, Sir And. So could I too. Sir To. And ask no other dowry with her, but such another jest. Enter MARIA. Sir And. Nor I neither. Fab. Here comes my noble gull-catcher. Sir To. Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip,'' and become thy bond-slave? Sir And. I'faith, or I either. were then in use. Olivia's detestation of these fashions probably arose from thinking them coxcomical. 8 Open country. 9 i. e. exactly the same in every particular. The etymology of this phrase is very uncertain. The most probable seems the French a point devise. A poinct, says Nicot, adverbe. C'est en ordre et estat deu et convenable,' We have also point blank, for direet from the same source. 10 Alluding to Sir Robert Shirley, who was just re turned in the character of ambassador from the Sophy. He boasted of the great rewards he had received, and lived in London with the utmost splendour. 11 An old game played with dice or tables. Thus in Machiavel's Dog. Sig. B. 4to. 1617. But leaving cards, let's go to dice awhile, Mar. Nay, but say true; does it work upon him? Sir To. Like aqua-vitæ with a midwife. Mar. If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark his first approach before my lady: he will come to her in yellow stockings, and 'tis a colour she abhors; and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests; and he will smile upon her, which will now be so unsuitable to her disposition, being addicted to a melancholy as she is, that it cannot but turn him into a notable contempt: if you will see it, follow me. Clo. Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send thee a beard! Vio. By my troth, I'll tell thee; I am almost sick for one; though I would not have it grow on my chin. Is thy lady within? Clo. Would not a pair of these have bred, sir? Vio. Yes, being kept together, and put to use. Clo. I would play lord Pandarus of Phrygia, sir, to bring a Cressida to this Troilus. Vio. I understand you, sir; 'tis well begg'd. Clo. The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, begging but a beggar; Cressida was a beggar.4 My lady is within, sir. I will construe to them whence you come; who you are, and what you would, are Sir To. To the gates of Tartar, thou most ex-out of my welkin; I might say, element; but the cellent devil of wit! word is over-worn. Sir And. I'll make one too. ACT III. [Exeunt. SCENE I. Olivia's Garden. Enter VIOLA, and Clown with a tabor. Vio. Save thee, friend, and thy music: Dost thou live by thy tabor?1 Clo. No, sir, I live by the church. Vio. Art thou a churchman? Clo. No such matter, sir; I do live by the church: for I do live at my house, and my house doth stand by the church. Vio. So thou may'st say, the king lies by a beggar, if a beggar dwell near him: or, the church stands by thy tabor, if thy tabor stand by the church. Clo. You have said, sir.-To see this age!-A sentence is but a cheveril2 glove to a good wit; How quickly the wrong side may be turned outward! Vio. Nay, that's certain; they, that dally nicely with words, may quickly make them wanton. Clo. I would, therefore, my sister had had no name, sir. Vio. Why, man? Clo. Why, sir, her name's a word; and to dally with that word, might make my sister wanton: But, indeed, words are very rascals, since bonds disgraced them. Vio. Thy reason, man? Clo. Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words; and words are grown so false, I am loath to prove reason with them. Vio. I warrant, thou art a merry fellow, and carest for nothing. Clo. Not so, sir, I do care for something: but in my conscience, sir, I do not care for you; if that be to care for nothing, sir, I would it would make you invisible. Vio. Art not thou the lady Olivia's fool? Clo. No, indeed, sir; the lady Olivia has no folly: she will keep no fool, sir, till she be married; and fools are as like husbands, as pilchards are to errings, the husband's the bigger; I am, indeed, not her fool, but her corrupter of words. Vio. I saw thee late at the count Orsino's. Clo. Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb, like the sun; it shines every where. I would be sorry, sir, but the fool should be as oft with your master, as with my mistress: I think I saw your wisdom there. Vio. Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee. Hold, there's expenses for thee. 1 Tarleton, in a print before his Jests, 4to. 1611, is represented with a Tabor. But the instrument is found in the hands of fools, long before the time of Shakspeare. 2 Kid. Ray has a proverb 'He hath a conscience like a cheverel's skin.' See note on K. Henry VIII. Act ii. Sc. 4. 3 See the play of Troilus and Cressida. 4 In Henryson's Testament of Cresseid she is thus spoken of: [Exit. Vio. This fellow's wise enough to play the fool; And, to do that well, craves a kind of wit: He must observe their mood on whom he jests, The quality of persons, and the time; That comes before his eye. This is a practice, And, like the haggard, check at every feather As full of labour as a wise man's art: For folly, that he wisely shows, is fit; Sir To. Save you, gentleman. Sir And. Dieu vous garde, monsieur. Sir And. I hope, sir, you are; and I am yours. Sir To. Will you encounter the house? my niece is desirous you should enter, if your trade be to her. Vio. I am bound to your niece, sir: I mean, she is the list of my voyage. Sir To. Taste your legs, sir, put them to motion. Vio. My legs do better understand me, sir, than I understand what you mean by bidding me taste my legs. Sir To. I mean, to go, sir, to enter. Vio. I will answer you with gait and entrance: But we are prevented. Enter OLIVIA and MARIA. Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain odours on you! Sir And. That youth's a rare courtier! Rain odours! well. Vio. My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your own most pregnant and vouchsafed ear. Sir And. Odours, pregnant, and vouchsafed:I'll get 'em all three ready. to Oli. Let the garden door be shut, and leave me my hearing. Give me your hand, sir. [Exeunt SIR TOBY, SIR ANDREW, and MARIA. Vio. My duty, madam, and most humble service. Oli. What is your name? Vio: Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess! Oli. My servant, sir! 'Twas never merry world, Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment; You are a servant to the count Orsino, youth. Vio. And he is yours, and his must needs be yours; Your servant's servant is your servant, madam. Oli. For him, I think not on him: for his thoughts, 'Would they were blanks, rather than fill'd with me! Vio. Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts On his behalf:O, by your leave, I pray you; bade you never speak again of him: But, would you undertake another suit, I Oli. 5 A wild hawk, or, hawk not well trained. 6 Bound, limit. 7 In the Frogs of Aristophanes a similar expression occurs, v. 462. 8 i. e. our purpose is anticipated. So in the 119th Psalm, Mine eyes prevent the night-watches.' 9 i. e. ready, apprehensive; vouchsafed, for vouchsafing. |