Between the elements of air and earth, Oli. You might do much: What is your parentage ? Vio. Above my fortunes, yet my state is well: I am a gentleman. Oli. Get you to your lord; I cannot love him: let him send no more; I thank you for your pains: spend this for me. Vio. I am no fee'd post, lady; keep your My master, not myself, lacks recompense. And let your fervour, like my master's, be [Exit. Oli. What is your parentage? Do give thee five-fold blazon:+-Not too fast :- Unless the master were the man.-How now? Re-enter MALVOLIO. Mal. Here, madam, at your service. Oli. Run after that same peevish messenger, The county'st man: he left this ring behind bim, Would I, or not; tell him, I'll none of it. If that the youth will come this way to-morrow, [Exit. Oli. I do I know not what; and fear to find What is decreed, must be; and be this so! ACT II. SCENE 1.-The Sea-coast. Enter ANTON LO and SEBASTIAN. [Exit. 'would we had so ended! but, yon, Sir, altered that; for, some hour before you took me from the breach of the sea, was my sister drowned. Ant. Alas, the day! Seb. A lady, Sir, though it was said she much resembled me, was yet of many accounted beautiful: but, though I could not, with such estimable wonder, overfar believe that, yet thus far I will boldly publish her, she bore a mind that envy could not but call fair: she is drowned already, Sir, with salt water, though I seem to drown her remembrance again with more. Ant. Pardon me Sir, your bad entertainment. Seb. O good Antonio, forgive me your trouble. Ant. If you will not murder me for my love, let me be your servant. Seb. If you will not undo what you have done, that is, kill him whom you have recovered, desire it not. Fare ye well at once my bosom is full of kindness; and I am yet so near the manners of my mother, that upon the least occasion more, mine eyes will tell tales of me. 1 am bound to the count Orsino's court: farewell. [Exit. Enter VIOLA; MALVOLIO following. Mal. Were not you even now with the countess Olivia ? Vio. Even now, Sir; on a moderate pace I have since arrived but hither. Mal. She returns this ring to you, Sir; you might have saved me my pains, to have taken it away yourself. She adds moreover, that you should put your lord into a desperate assurance she will none of him: And one thing more; that you be never so hardy to come again in his affairs, unless it be to report your lord's taking of this. Receive it so. Vio. She took the ring of me; I'll none of it. Mal. Come, Sir, you peevishly threw it to her; and her will is, it should be so returned: if it be worth stooping for, there it lies in your eye; if not, be it his that finds it. [Exit. Vio. I left no ring with her: What ineans this lady? Fortune forbid, my outside have not charm'd her ! She made good view of me; indeed, so much, That, sure, methought, her eyes had lost her tongue, Ant. Will you stay no longer? nor will you For she did speak in starts distractedly. not that I go with you? Seb. By your patience, no: my stars shine darkly over nie; the malignancy of my fate might, perhaps, distemper your's; therefore shall crave of you your leave, that I may bear ny evils alone: It were a bad recompense for your love to lay any of them on you. Ant. Let me yet know of you, whither you are bound. Seb. No, 'sooth, Sir; my determinate voyage is mere extravagancy. But I perceive in you so excellent a touch of modesty, that you will not extort from me what I am willing to keep in; therefore it charges me in manners the rather to express myself. You must knew of me then, Antonio, my name is Sebastian, which I called Rodorigo; My father was that Sebastian, of Messaline, whom I know you have heard of: he left behind him, myself and a sister, both born in an hour. If the heaveus had been pleased, She loves me, sure; the cunning of her passion And I, poor monster, fond as much on him; [Exit. SCENE III-A Room in OLIVIA's House. Enter Sir TOBY BELCH, and Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK. Sir To. Approach, Sir Andrew: not to be a-bed after midnight, is to be up betimes; and diluculo surgere, thou know'st, Sir And. Nay, by my troth, I know not: but I know, to be up late, is to be up late. Sir To. A false conclusion; I hate it as an pufilled can: To be up after midnight, and to go to bed then, is early; so that, to go to bed after midnight, is to go to bed betimes. Do not our lives consist of the four elements ? Sir And. 'Faith, so they say; but, I think, it rather consists of eating and drinking. Sir To. Thou art a scholar; let us therefore eat and drink.-Marian, I say --a stoop of wine! Enter CLOWN. 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. Clo. I shall never begin, if I hold my peace. Sir And. Good, i' faith! Come, begin. [They sing a catch. Enter MARIA. Mar. What a catterwauling 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, we are politicians: Malvolio's a Peg-a-Ramsey, and Three merry men we be. Am not I consanguineous ! Clo. How now, my hearts? Did you never see am I not of her blood? Tilly-valley, lady! the picture of we three ?⚫ There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady, lady! Sir And. Here comes the fool, i' faith. Sir To. Welcome, ass. Now let's have a catch. Sir And. By my troth, the fool has an excellent breast. + I had rather than forty shillings I had such a leg; and so sweet a breath to sing, as the fool has. In sooth, thou wast in very gracious fooling last night, when thou spokest of Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians pass ing the equinoctial of Queubus; 'twas very good, i' faith. I sent thee sixpence for thy leman: ‡ Hadst it? Clo. I did impeticos thy gratillity; for Malvolio's nose is no whipstock: My lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses. Sir And. Excellent; Why, this is the best fooling, when all is done. Now, a song, Sir To. Come on; there is sixpence for you: let's have a song. Sir And. There's a testril of me too: if one knight give a— Clo. Would you have a love-song, or a song of good life? Sir To. A love-song, a love-song. Sir And. Ay, ay; I care not for good life. SONG. Clo. O mistress mine, where are you roaming! O stay and hear; your true love's coming, That can sing both high and low: Every wise man's son doth know. Sir And. Excellent good, i' faith! Clo. What is love? 'tis not hereafter; In delay there lies no plenty; Then come kiss me sweet-and-twenty, Youth's a stuff will not endure. Sir And. A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight. Sir To. A contageous breath. Sir And. Very sweet and contageous, i' faith. Sir To. To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in contagion. But shall we make the welkin dance indeed? Shall we rouse the night-owl in a catch, that will draw three souls ¶ out of one weaver ? shall we do that? Sir And, An you love me, let's do't: I am dog at a catch. [Singing. Clo. Beshrew me, the knight's in admirable fooling. Sir And, Ay, he does well enough, if he be disposed, and so do 1 too; he does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural. Sir To. O the twelfth day of December,(Singing. Mar. For the love of God, peace. Enter MALVOLIO. Mal. My masters, are you mad? or what are you? Have you no wit, manners, nor bonesty, but to gabble like tinkers at this time of night! Do ye 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 ? Sir To. We did keep time, Sir, in our catches. Sueck up![] Mal. Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My lady bade me tell you, that, though she barbours you as her kinsnian, she's nothing allied to your disorders. If you can separate your self and your misdemeanors, you are welcome to the house; if not, an it would please you to take leave of ber, she is very willing to bid you farewell. Sir To. Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be gone. Mar. Nay, good Sir Toby. Clo. His eyes do show his days are almost done. Mal. Is't even so ? Sir To. But I will never die. Clo. Sir Toby, there you lie. [Singing. Sir To. Shall I bid him go, and spare not ? Clo. O no, no, no, no, you dare not. Sir To. Out o'time? Sir, ye lie.-Art any more than a steward ? Dost thou think, because thon art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale? Clo. Yes, by Saint Aune; and ginger shall be hot i'the mouth too. Sir To. Thou'rt 'the right.-Go, Sir, rab your chain with crums:-A stoop of wine, Maria! Mal. Mistress Mary, if you prized wy Indy'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. [Fixit. Mar. Go shake your ears. Sir And. Twere as good a deed as to drink + Name of an old song. 1 Equivalent to filly fally, shilly chally. • Romancer. § Coblers. Hang yourself. 1 Stewards anciently wore a chain. • Method of life. Scene IV. OR, WHAT YOU WILL. 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. 653 Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song, That old and antique song we heard last night; Methought, it did relieve my passion much; Sir To. Do't, knight; I'll write thee a chal-More than light airs and recollected terms, lenge; or I'll deliver thy indignation to him by Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times :Come, but one verse. 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, and make him a common recreation, do not think I have wit enough to lie straight in my bed: I know, I can do it. Sir To. Possess us, † possess us; tell us something of him. Mar. Marry, Sir, sometimes he is a kind of Puritan. Sir And. Oh! 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 ass, that cons state without book, and utters it by great swarths: the best persuaded of himself, so crammed as he thinks with excellences, that it is his 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 epistles of love; wherein, by the colour of his beard, the shape of his leg, the manner of his gait, the expressure of his eye, forehead, and complexion, he shall find himself most feelingly personated: I can write very like my lady your niece; on a forgotten matter we can hardly make distinction of our hands. Sir To. Excellent! I smell a device. 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 colour. that Sir And. And your horse now would make him Mar. Ass, I doubt not. Sir And. Oh ! 'twill be admirable. Sir To. Good night, Penthesilea. that adores me; What o' that? Sir And. I was adored once too. one Sir To. Let's to bed, kuight.-Thou hadst need Sir And. If I cannot recover your niece, I am Sir To. Send for money, knight; if thou hast Sir And. If I do not, never trust me, take it how you will. Sir To. Come, come; I'll go burn some sack, "tis too late to go to bed now: come, knight; [Exeunt. come, knight. SCENE IV-A Room in the DUKE's Palace. Enter DUKE, VIOLA, CURIO, and others. + Inform us. • Bye-word. I Amazon. Cur. He is not here, so please your lordship, that should sing it. Duke. Who was it? Cur. Festo, the jester, my lord; a fool, that the lady Olivia's father took much delight in: he is about the house. Duke. Seek bim out, and play the tune the Duke. Thou dost speak masterly: Vio. A little, by your favour. Duke. What kind of woman is't? Duke. She is not worth thee then. What Vio. About your years, my lord. Duke. Too old, by heaven; Let still the wo man take An elder than herself; so wears she to him, Vio. I think it well, my lord. Duke. Then let thy love be younger than Or thy affection cannot hold the bent: Duke. O fellow, come, the song we had last Mark it, Cesario; it is old and plain: bones, t Do use to chaunt it; it is silly sooth, Clo. Are you ready, Sir? SONG. Clo. Come away, come away, death, [Music. I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My part of death no one so true Not a flower, not a flower sweet, A thousand thousand sighs to save, Duke. There's for thy pains. Clo. No pains, Sir; I take pleasure in singing, Sir. Duke. I'll pay thy pleasure then. Clo. Truly, Sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or another. Duke. Give me now leave to leave thee. Clo. Now, the melancholy god protect thee; and the tailor nrake thy doublet of changeable taffata, for thy mind is a very opal. I would have men of 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. [Erit CLOWN. Duke. Let all the rest give place. [Exeunt CURIO and Attendants. Once more, Cesario, Get thee to you' same sovereign cruelty: The parts that fortune hath bestow'd upon her, Say, that some lady, as, perhaps, there is, Can bide the beating of so strong a passion And can digest as much: make no compare Vio. Ay, but I know, Duke. What dost thou know? Sir To. Would'st thou not be glad to have the niggardly rascally sheep-biter come by come notable shame ? Fab. I would exult, man: you know, he brought me out of favour with my lady, about a bear-baiting here. Sir To. To anger him, we'll have the bear again; and we will fool him black and blue:Shall we not, Sir Andrew ? Sir And. An we do not, it is pity of our lives. Enter MARIA. Sir To. Here comes the little villain :-How now, my nettle of India? Mar. Get ye all three into the box-tree: Malvolio's coming down this walk; he has been yonder i'the sun, practising behaviour to his own shadow this half hour: observe him, for the love of mockery; for I know this letter will make a contemplative ideot of him. Close, in the name of jesting! [The men hide themselves.] Lie thou there; [throws down a letter. for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling. [Erit MARIA. Enter MALVOLIO. Maria Mal. 'Tis but fortune; all is fortune. once told me, she did affect me: and 1 have heard herself come thus near, that, should she fancy, it should be one of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a more exalted respect than any one else that follows her. What should 1 think on't ? Sir To. Here's an over-weening 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 :Sir To. Peace, I say. Mal. To be Count Malvolio; Sir To. Ab! rogue! Sir And. Pistol him, pistol him. Sir To, Peace, prace! Mal. There is example for't; the lady of the Vio. Too well what love women to men may strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe. SCENE V.-OLIVIA'S Garden. Enter Sir TOBY BELCH, Sir ANDREW AGUE- Sir To. Come thy ways, Signior Fabian.. Fab. Nay, I'll come; if I lose a scruple of this sport, let me be boiled to death with meancholy. Sir And. Fie on him, Jezebel ! Fab. O peace! now he's deeply in; look, bow imagination blows him. Mal. Having been three months married to her, sitting in my state, § Sir To. Oh! for a stone bow, to hit him in the eye. Mal. Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet gown: having come from a daybed, where I left Olivia sleeping: Sir To. Fire and brimstone 1 Mal. And then to have the humour of state: and after a demure travel of regard,-telling them, I know my place, as I would they should do their's, to ask for my kinsman Toby: Sir To. Bolts and shackles ! Fab. O peace, peace, peace! now, now. start, make out for him: i frown the whe Mal. Seven of my people, with an obedien. and, perchance, wind up my watch, or play with some rich jewel. Toby approaches ; court'sies there to me: Sir To. Shall this fellow live ? Fab. Though our silence be drawn from us with ears, yet peace. Mal. I extend my hand to him thus, quench ing my familiar smile with an austere regard of control: Sir To. And does not Toby take you a blow o'the lips then? Mal. Saying, Cousin Toby, my fortunes hav ing cast me on your niece, give me this prerogative of speech: Sir To. What, what? Mal. You must amend your drunkenness. Sir To. Out, scab ! 劃 Fab. Nay, patience, or we break the sinews, thy humble slough,⚫ and appear fresh. Be of our plot. Mal. Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish knight; Sir And. That's me, I warrant you. 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: Sir And. I knew, 'twas I; for many do call and wished to see thee ever cross-gartered: I me 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, that 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. Lips do not move, No man must know.-What follows? the numbers altered!-No man must know:-If this should be thee, Malvolio? Sir To. Marry, bang thee, brock!⚫ Fab. A fustian riddle ! Sir To. Excellent wench, say I. Mal. M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.-Nay, bat 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 stannyel + ebecks; 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 :-be is now at a cold scent. Pab. Sowter will cry upon't, for all this, though it be as rank as a fox. Mal. M,-Malvolio ;—M,-why, that begins my name. Fab. Did not I say, he would work it out? fbe cur is excellent at faults. 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 champiant discovers not more: this is open. I will be proud, I will read politic authors, I will bafile Sir Toby, 1 will wash off gross acquaintance, I will be point-device, t 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 crossgartered, 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. [Exit. Fab. I will not give my part of this sport for a pension of thousands to be paid from the Sophy. Sir To. I could marry this wench for this de vice. 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. Sir To. Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and become thy bond-slave? Sir And. I'faith, or I either. Sir To. Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that, when the image of it leaves him, he must run mad. 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: Mal. M,-But then there is no consonaney he will come to her in yellow stockings, and 'tis in the sequel; that suffers under probation: Aa colour she abhors; and cross-gartered, a abould follow, but O does. Fab. And O shall end, I hope. fashion she detests; and he will smile upon her, which will now be so unsuitable to her disposi Sir To. Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make him tion, being addicted to a melancholy as she is, cry (). Mal. And then I comes behind; Fab. Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you might see more detraction at your heels, than fortunes before you. Mal. M, O, A, I;-This simulation is not as the former :-and yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of these letters are in my naine. 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 anure thyself to what thou art like to be, cast that it cannot but turn him into a notable contempt: if you will see it, follow me. Sir To. To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit! Sir And. I'll make one too. ACT III. [Exeunt. SCENE 1.-OLIVIA'S Garden, Enter VIOLA and CLOWN with a tabor. Vio. Save thee, friend, and thy music: Dost thou live by thy tabor? Clo. No, Sir, I live by the church. |