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to one she'll none of me: the count himself, here When least in company :-Prosper well in this, hard by, wooes her.
And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord, Sir To. She'll done o' the count; she'll not match To call his fortunes thine. above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; I Vio.
I'll do my best, bave heard her swear it. Tut, there's life in't, man. To woo your lady: yet, (Aside.) a barful strife!
Sir And. I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife. (Exeunt. o'the strangest mind i' the world; I delight in basques and revels sometimes altogether.
SCENE V.-A Room in Olivia's house. Sir To. Art thou good at these kickshaws,knight?
Enter MARIA and Clown. Sir And. As any man in Illyria, whatsoever be Mar. Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, be, under the degree of my betters; and yet I will or I will not open my lips, so wide as a bristle may not compare with an old man.
enter, in way of thy excuse: my lady will hang Sir To. What is thy excellence in a galliard,knight? thee for thy absence. Sir And. 'Faith, I can cut a caper.
Clo. Let her hang me! he, that is well hanged in Sir To. And I can cut the mutton to't.
this world, needs to fear no colours. Sir And. And, I think, I have the back-trick,
Mar. Make that good. simply as strong as any man in Illyria.
Clo. He shall see none to fear. Sir To. Wherefore are these things hid? where Mar. A good lenten answer. I can tell thee fore have these gifts a curtain before them? are where that saying was born, of I fear no colours. they like to take dust, like mistress Mall's pic Clo. Where, good mistress Mary? tare! why dost thou not go to church in a galliard ? Mar. In the wars; and that may you be bold and come home in a coranto? My very walk should to say in your foolery: be a jig! I would not so much as make water, but Clo. Well, God give them wisdom, that have in a sink-a-pace. What dost thou mean? is it a it; and those that are fools, let them use their world to hide virtues in? I did think, by the excel talents. lent constitution of thy leg, it was formed under Mar. Yet you will be hanged, for being so long the star of a galliard.
absent: or, to be turned away, is not that as good Sir And. Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent as a hanging to you? well in a flame-coloured stock. Shall we set about Clo. Many a good hanging prevents a bad marsome revels ?
[under Taurus ? riage; and for turning away, let summer bear Sir To. What shall we do else? were we not born Mar. You are resolute then?
[it out. Sir And. Taurus ? that's sides and heart.
Clo. Not so neither; but I am resolved on Sa To. No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let me two points. see thee caper: ha! higher: ha, ha!--excellent! Mar. That, if one break, the other will hold;
(Exeunt. or, if both break, your gaskins fall. SCENE IV.-A Room in the Duke's Palace.
Clo. Apt, in good faith; very apt! Well, go
thy way; if sir Toby would leave drinking, thou Bater VALENTINE, and Viola in man's attire.
wert as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any in Vol. If the duke continue these favours towards Illyria. you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanced : Mar. Peace, you rogue, no more o'that; here he hath known you bat three days, and already you comes my lady: make your excuse wisely, you are no stranger.
(Exit. Vio. You either fear his humour, or my negli
Enter OLIVIA and MALVOLIO. gence, that you call in question the continuance of his love : Iš be inconstant, sir, in his favours? Clo. Wit, and't be thy will, put me into good Val. No, believe me.
fooling! Those wits, that think they have thee,
do very oft prove fools; and I, that am sure I Eater Duke, CURIO, and Attendants.
lack thee, may pass for a wise man: For what Vio. I thank you. Here comes the count. says Quinapulus? Better a witty fool, than a Duke. Who saw Cesario, ho ?
foolish wit. --God bless thee, lady! Vio. On your attendance, my lord; here.
Oli. Take the fool away.
(the lady. Duke. Stand you awhile aloof.–Cesario,
Clo. Do you not hear, fellows? Take away Thon know'st no less but all; I have unclasp'd Oli. Go to, you're a dry fool; I'll no more of To thee the book even of my secret soul :
you: besides, you grow dishonest. Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her; Clo. Two faults, madonna, that drink and good Be not deny'd access, stand at her doors,
counsel will amend; for give the dry fool drink, And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow, then is the fool not dry; bid the dishonest man Till thou have audience.
mend himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishoVio.
Sure, my noble lord, nest; if he cannot, let the botcher mend bim: Any If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow
thing, that's mended, is but patched : virtue, that As it is spoke, she never will admit me.
trangresses, is but patched with sin; and sin, that Duke. Be clamorous, and leap all civil bounds, amends, is but patched with virtue: If that this Rather than make unprofited return.
simple syllogism will serve, so; if it will not, Vio. Say, I do speak with her, my lord; What then? What remedy? As there is no true cuckold but
Duke. O, then unfold the passion of my love, calamity, so beauty's a flower :—the lady bade take Sarprise her with discourse of my dear faith : away the fool; therefore, I say again, take her away. It shall become thee well to act my woes;
Oli. Sir, I bade them take away you. She will attend it better in thy youth,
Clo. Misprision in the highest degree !-Lady, Than in a puncio of more grave aspéct.
Cucullus non facit monachum; that's as much as Vio. I think not so, my lord.
to say, I wear not motley in my brain. Good Dake.
Dear lad, believe it; madonna, give me leave to prove you a fool. For they shall yet belie thy happy years,
Oli. Can you do it? That say, thou art a man: Diana's
Clo. Dexterously, good madonna. Is bot more smooth and rubious; thy small pipe
Ol. Make your proof. Is as the maiden's organ, shrill, and sound,
Clo. I must catechize you for it, madonna; And all is semblative a woman's part.
good my mouse of virtae, answer me. I koow, thy constellation is right apt
Oli. Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I'll For this affair :- Some four, or five, attend him; 'bide your proof. Al, if you will; for I myself am best,
Clo. Good madonna, why mourn'st thou?
Oli. Good fool, for my brother's death. takes on him to understand so much, and therefore Clo. I think, his soul is in hell, madonna. comes to speak with you: I told him you were Oli. I know his soul is in heaven, fool.
asleep; he seems to have a fore-knowledge of that Clo. The more fool you, madonna, to mourn for too, and therefore comes to speak with you. What your brother's soul being in heaven.—Take away is to be said to him, lady ? he's fortified against any the fool, gentlemen.
denial. Oli. What think you of this fool, Malvolio? Oli. Tell him, he shall not speak with me. doth he not mend ?
Mal. He has been told so; and he says, he'll Mal. Yes; and shall do, till the pangs of death stand at your door like a sheriff's post, and be the shake him: Infirmity, that decays ibe wise, doth supporter of a bench, but he'll speak with you. ever make the better fool.
Oli. What kind of man is he? Clo. God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the Mal. Why, of man-kind. better encreasing your folly! Sir Toby will be sworn, Oli. What manner of man? that I am no fox ; but he will not pass his word for Mal. Of very ill manner; be'll speak with you, two-pence that you are no fool.
will you, or no. Oli. How say you to that, Malvolio?
oli. Of what personage and years, is he? Mal. I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such Mal. Not yet old enough for a man, nor young a barren rascal; I saw him put down the other day enough for a boy; as a squash is before 'tis a peaswith an ordinary fool, that has no more brain than cod, or a codling when 'tis almost an apple: 'tis a stone. Look you now, he's out of his guard al with him e'en standing water, between boy and ready; unless you laugh and minister occasion to man. He is very well-favoured, and he speaks very him, he is gagged. I protest, I take these wise shrewishly; one would think, his mother's milk men, that crow so at these set kind of fools, no better were scarce ont of him.
[woman. than the fools' zanies.
Oli. Let him approach : Call in my gentleOli. O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and Mal. Gentlewoman, my lady calls. [Erit. taste with a distempered appetite. To be generous,
Re-enter MARIA. guiltless, and of free disposition, is to take those things for bird-bolts, that you deem cannon-ballets :
Oliv. Give me my veil: come, throw ito'er my face; There is no slander in an allowed fool, though he do We'll once more hear Orsino's embassy. nothing but rail; por no railing in a known discreet
Enter VIOLA. man, though he do nothing but reprove.
Vio. The honourable lady of the house, which Clo. Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for is she?
[will ? thou speakest well of fools.
Oli. Speak to me, I shall answer for her: Your Re-enter MARIA.
Vio. Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable Mar. Madam, there is at the gate a young gen
beauty, -I pray you, tell me, if this be the lady of
the house, for I never saw her: I would be loath to tleman, much desires to speak with you.
cast away my speech; for, besides that it is excelOli. From the count Orsino, is it? Mar. I know not, madam; 'tis a fair young man,
lently well penn d, I have taken great pains to con
it. Good beauties, let me sustain no scorn; I am and well attended.
very comptible, even to the least sinister usage. Oli. Who of my people hold him in delay?
Oli. Whence came you, sir?
Vio. I can say little more than I have studied,
and that question's out of my part. Good gentle thing but madman: Fye on him! [Exit Maria.] Go
one, give me modest assurance, if you be the lady you, Malvolio : if it be a suit from the count, I am
of the house, that I may proceed in my speech. sick, or not at home ; what you will, to dismiss it.
Oli. Are you a comedian? [Exit Malvolio.] Now you see, sir, how your fool
Vio. No, my profound heart: and yet, by the ing grows old, and people dislike it. Clo. Thou hast spoke for os, madonna, as if thy Are you the lady of the house?
very fangs of malice, I swear, I am not that I play. eldest son should be a fool; whose skull Jove cram
Oli. If I do not usurp myself, I am. with brains, for bere he comes, one of thy kin, has Vio. Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp a most weak pia mater.
yourself; for what is yours to bestow, is not yours Enter Sir TOBY Belch.
to reserve. But this is from my commission : I will Oli. By mine honour, half drunk. What is he
on with my speech in your praise, and then shew at the gate, cousin ?
you the heart of my message. Sir Io. A gentleman.
01. Come to what is important in't: I forgive Oli. A gentleman? What gentleman?
you the praise.
(poetical. Sir To. "Tis a gentleman here- A plague o'these
Vio. Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis pickle-herrings !-How now, sot?
Oli. It is the more like to be feigned; I pray you, Clo, Good Sir Toby,
keep it in. I heard you were saucy at my gates, Ol. Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early than to hear you. If you be not mad, be gone ; if
and allowed your approach rather to wonder at you by this lethargy?
[at the gate. Sir To. Lechery! I defy lechery: There's one
you have reason, be brief : 'tis not that time of moon Oh. Ay, marry; what is he?
with me, to make one in so skipping a dialogue. Sir To. Let him be the devil, an he will, J
Mar. Will you hoist sail, sir? here lies your way. not; give me faith, say I. Well, it's all one. [E.rit.
Vio. No, good swabber; I am to holl here a Oh. What's a drunken man like, fool?
little longer.- Some mollification for your giant, Cio. Like a drown'd man, a fool, and a madman :
Oli. Tell me your mind.
(sweet lady. one draught above heat makes bim a fool; the se
Vio. I am a messenger. cond mads him; and a third drowns him.
Oli. Sure, you have some hideous matter to deOli. Go thou and seek the coroner, and let him liver, when the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak sit o' my coz; for he's in the third degree of drink, your office. he's drown'd: go, look after him.
Vio. It alone concerus your ear. I bring no Clo. He is but mad yet, madonna; and the fool
overture of war, no taxation of homage; I hold the shall look to the madman.
[Exit Clown. olive in my hand; my words are as full of peace as
matter. Re-enter MalvoLIO,
Oli. Yet you began rudely. What are you? what Mal. Madam, yond young fellow swears he will would you? speak with you. I told him you were sick; he Vio. The rudeness, that hath appeared in me,
have I learn'd from my entertainment. What I am, Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit, and what I would, are as secret as maidenhead ; to Do give thee five-fold blazon :-Not too fast: your ears, divinity; to any other's, profanation.
soft! soft! 06. Give as the place alone : we will hear this Unless the master were the man.-How now? divinity. [Erit Maria.] Now, sir, what is your text? Even so quickly may one catch the plague? Vio. Most sweet lady,
Methinks, I feel this youth's perfections, Oli. A comfortable doctrine, and much may be With an invisible and subtle stealth, said of it. Where lies your text?
To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.Vio. In Orsino's bosom.
What, ho, Malvolio! Oli. In his bosom? In what chapter of his bosom?
Re-enter MALVOLIO. Vio. To answer by the method, in the first of his Mal.
Here, madam, at your service. heart.
(more to say? Oli. Run after that same peevish messenger, Oli. 0, I have read it; it is heresy. Have you no The county's man: he left this ring behind him, Vio. Good madam, let me see your face.
Would I, or not; tell him, I'll none of it. 05. Have you any commission from your lord to Desire him not to flatter with his lord, negociate with my face? you are now out of your Nor bold him up with hopes; I am not for him: text: bat we will draw the curtain, and shew you If that the youth will come this way to-morrow, the picture. Look you, sir, such a one as I was I'll give him reasons for't. Hie thee, Malvolio. this present: Is't not well done? (Unveiling.)
Mal. Madam, I will.
(Exit. Vio. Excellently done, if God did all. (weather. Oli. I do I know not what; and fear to find 06. 'Tis in grain, sir; 'twill endure wind and Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind.
Vio. 'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white Fate, shew thy force : Ourselves we do not owe; Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on : What is decreed, must be; and be this so! [Exit. Lady, you are the cruel'st she alive, If you lead these graces to the grave,
ACT II. And leave the world no copy.
SCENEI.-The Sea-coast. Oli. O, sir, I will not be so hard-bearted; I will
Enter ANTONIO and SEBASTIAN. give out divers schedules of my beauty: it shall Ant. Will you stay no longer? nor will you not be inventoried; and every particle, and utensil, that I
with Jabelled to my will: as, item, two lips indifferent Seb. By your patience, no: my stars shine darkly red; item, two grey eyes, with lids to them ; item, over me; the malignancy of my fate might, perone neck, one chin, and so forth. Were you sent haps, distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of you hither to 'praise me?
your leave, that I may bear my evils alone : It Vio. I see you what you are: you are too proud; were a bad recompense for your love, to lay any of Bat, if you were the devil, you are fair.
them on you.
[bound. My lord and master loves you; 0, such love Ant. Let me yet know of you, whither you are Coald be but recompens’d, ihough you werecrown'd Seb. No, 'sooth, sir; my determinate voyage is The nonpareil of beauty!
mere extravagancy. But I perceive in you so ex. Ol.
How does he love me? cellent a touch of modesty, that you will not extort Vio. With adorations, with fertile tears, from me what I am willing to keep in; therefore it Witb groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire. charges me in manners the rather to express my06. Your lord does know my mind, I cannot self. You must know of me, then, Antonio, my love bim :
name is Sebastian, which I called Roderigo; my Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble, father was that Sebastian of Messaline, whom, I Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth; know, you bave beard of: he left behind him, myla voices well divulg'd, free, learn'd, and valiant, self, and a sister, both born in an hour. If the And, in dimension, and the shape of nature, heavens had been pleased, 'would we had so ended! A gracious person: but yet I cannot love him ;
but, you, sir, altered that; for, some hour before He might have took his answer long ago.
you took me from the breach of the sea, was my Pio. If I did love you in my master's flame, Ant. Alas, the day!
(sister drown'd. With such a suffering, such a deadly life,
Seb. A lady, sir, though it was said she much reIn your denial I would find no sense,
sembled me, was yet of many accounted beautiful; I would not understand it.
bat, though I could not, with such estimable wonOli.
Why, what would you ? der, overlar believe that, yet thus far I will boldly Vio. Make me a willow cabin at your gate, publish her, she bore a mind that envy could not And call upon my soul within the house;
but call fair : she is drowned already, sir, with salt Write loyal cantons of contemned love,
water, though I seem to drown her remembrance And sing them loud even in the dead of night,
again with more. Holla your name to the reverberate hills,
Ant. Pardon me, sir, your bad entertainment. And make the babbling gossip of the air
Seb. O, good Antonio, forgive me your trouble. Cry out, Olivia! 0, you should not rest
Ant. If you will not murder me for my love, let Between the elements of air and earth,
me be your servant. Bat you should pity me.
Seb. If you will not undo what you have done, 06. You might do moch: What is your parent that is, kill bim whom you have recovered, desire it Vio. Above my fortanes, yet my state is well :
not. Fare ye well at once: my bosom is full of I am a gentleman.
kindness; and I am yet so near the manners of my OL. Get you to your lord;
mother, that upon the least occasion more, mine I cagnot love him : let bim send no more ;
eyes will tell tales of me. I am bound to the count Unless, percbance, you come to me again,
Orsino's court: farewell.
[Exit. To tell me how be takes it. Fare you well:
Ant. The gentleness of all the gods go with thee! I thank you for your pains : spend this for me.
I have many enemies in Orsino's court, Vio. I am no fee'd post, lady; keep your purse; Else would I very shortly see thee there: My master, not myself, lacks recompense.
But, come what may, I do adore thee so,
SCENE II.-A Street.
Enter VIOLA; Malvolio following.
Mal, Were not you even now with the countess I am a gentleman. I'll be sworn thou art; Olivia ?
Vio. Even now, sir; on a moderate pace I have Sir And. There's a testril of me too: if one since arrived but hither.
knight give a
[good life? Mal. She returns this ring to you, sir; you
Clo. Would you have a love-song, or a song of might have saved me my pains, to have taken it Sir To. A love-song, a love-song. away yourself. She adds moreover, that
you shoula Sir And. Ay, ay; I care not for good life. put your lord into a desperate assurance she will
SONG. none of bim: And one thing more; that you be
Clo. O mistress mine, where are you roaming? never so hardy to come again in his affairs, unless it be to report your lord's taking of this. Receive 0, stay, and hear; your true love's coming, it so.
That can sing both high and lovo: Vio. She took the ring of me: I'll none of it.
Trip no further, pretty sweeting ; Mal. Come, sir, yoa peevishly threw it to ber;
Journeys end in lovers' meeting, and ber will is, it should be so returned : if it bé
Every wise man's son doth know. worth stooping for, there it lies in your eye; if not, Sir And. Excellent good, i'faith! be it his that finds it.
[Exit. Sir To. Good, good. Vio. I left no ring with her : What means this
Clo. What is love? 'tis not hereafter; lady?
Present mirth hath present laughter; Fortune forbid, my outside have not charm'd her!
What's to come, is still unsure:
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 And. Very sweet and contagious, i'faith.
Sir To. To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in Disguise, I see, thou art a wickedness,
contagion. But shall we make the welkin dance Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.
indeed? Shall we rouse the night-owl in a catch, How easy is it for the proper-false
that will draw three souls out of one weaver? shali In women's waxen hearts to set their forms! we do that?
(a catch. Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we;
Sir And. An you love me, let's do't: I am dog at For, such as we are made of, such we be.
Clo. By’r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well. How will this fadge? My master loves her dearly; Sir And. Most certain : let our catch be, Thou And I, poor monster, fond as much on him;
kenave, And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me:
Clo. Hold thy peace, thou knave, knight? I shall What will become of this ! As I am man,
be constrain'd in't to call thee knave, knight. My state is desperate for my master's love;
Sir And. 'Tis not the first time I have constrain'd As I am woman, now alas the day!
one to call me knave. Begin, fool; it begins, Hold What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe ?
thy peace. O time, thou must untangle this, not I;
Clo. I shall never begin, if I hold my peace.
Mar. What a catterwauling do you keep here!
If my lady have not called up her steward, Malafter midnight, is to be up betimes; and diluculu
trust me. surgere, thou know'st
Sir To. My lady's a Cataian, we are politicians ; Šir And. Nay, by my troth, I know not: but I Malvolio's a Peg-a-Ramsay, and Three merry men know, to be up late, is to be up late. Sir To. A false conclusion; I hate it as an an
be we. Am not I consanguineous ? am I not of her filled can : To be up after midnight, and to go to Babylon, lady, lady! (Singing.?
blood? Tilly-vally, lady! There dwelt a man in
[fooling. bed then, is early: so that, to go to bed after mid
Clo. Beshrew me, the knight's in admirable night, is to go to bed betimes. Do not our lives
Sir And. Ay, he does well enough, if he be disconsist of the four elements ?
Sir And. 'Faith, so they say; but, I think, it posed, and so do I too; he does it with a better rather consists of eating and drinking.
grace, but I do it more natural.
Sir To. O, thetwelfth day of December ,-(Singing.) Sir To. Thou art a scholar; let us therefore eat Mar. For the love o' God, peace. and drink.-Marian, I say!
-a stoop of wine ! Enter Clown.
Enter MALVOLIO. Sir And. Here comes the fool, i'faith.
Mal. My masters, are yod mad? or what are you? Clo. How now, my hearts? Did you never see Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty, but to gabble the picture of we three.
like tinkers at this time of night? Do ye make an Sir To. Welcome, ass. Now let's have a catch. alehouse of my lady's house, that ye squeak out
Sir And. By my troth, the fool has an excellent your coziers' catches without any mitigation or breast. I had rather than forty shillings I had such remorse of voice? Is there no respect of place, a leg; and so sweet a breath to sing, as the fool has. persons, nor time, in you?
[Sneck up! In sooth, thou wast in very gracious fooling last Sir To. We did keep time, sir, in our catches. night, when thou spokest of Pigrogromitus, of the Mal. Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My Vapians passing the equinoctial of Quoubus ; 'twas lady bade me tell you, that, though she harbours very good, i'faith. I'sent thee sixpence for thy you as her kinsman, she's nothing allied to your leman: Hadst it?
disorders. If you can separate yourself and your Clo. I did impeticos thy gratillity; for Malvolio's misdemeanors, you are welcome to the house ; if nose is no whipstock : My lady has a white hand, not, an it would please you to take leave of her, and the Myrmidons are no botile-ale houses. she
is very willing to bid you farewell. [gone, Sir And. Excellent! Why, this is the best fool. Sir To. Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be ing, wben all is done. Now, a song.
Mar. Nay, good sir Toby.
Mal. Is't even so?
have a song
Sir To. But I will never die.
Sir And. If I cannot recover your niece, I am a Clo. Sir Toby, there you lie.
foul way out. Mal. This is much credit to you.
Sir To. Send for money, knight; if thou hast her Su To. Shall I bid him go? (Singing.)
not in the end, call me Cute
(you will. Clo. What an if you do?
Sir And. If I do not, never trast me, take it how Sir To. Shall I bid him go and spare not?
Sir To. Come, come; I'll go burn some sack, Clo. O no, no, no, no, you dare not,
'tis too late to go to bed now: come, knight;
come, Sir To. Out o'time? sir, ye lie.—Art any more knight.
[Exeunt. than a steward? Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale ?
Scene IV.-A Room in the Duke's Palace. Clo. Yes, by Saint Anne ; and ginger shall be hot Enter DUKE, VIOLA, CURIO, and others. i'the mouth too. Sir To. Thou'rt i'the right.-Go, sir, rub your
Duke. Give me some music :-Now, good morcbain with crums:-A stoop of wine, Maria !
row, friends : Mel. Mistress Mary, if you priz'd my lady's fa- Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song, voor at any thing more than contempt, you would That old and antique song we heard last night; not give means for this uncivil rule ; she shall know Methought it did relieve my passion much; of it, by this hand.
More than light airs and recollected terms, Mar. Go shake your ears.
Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times : Sir And. 'Twere as good a deed as to drink when Come, but one verse.
(should sing it. a man's a-bungry, to challenge him to the field ; and
Cur. He is not here, so please your lordship, that
Duke. Who was it? then to break promise with him, and make a fool of him.
Cur. Feste, the jester, my lord ; a fool, that the Sir To. Do't, knight; I'll write thee a challenge ; lady Olivia's father took much delight 'in; he is or I'll deliver tby indignation to him by word of about the house.
Duke. Seek him out, and play the tune the while. Mar. Sweet sir Toby, be patient for to-night; Come hither, boy ; if ever thou shalt love,
[Exit Curio.-Music. since the youth of the count's was to-day with
my lady, she is much out of quiet. For monsieur Mal
In the sweet pangs of it remember me : Folio, let me alone with him: if I do not gull him For, such as I am, all true lovers are ; into a bayword, and make
him a common recreation, Unstaid and skittish in all motions else, do not think I have wit enough to lie straight in my That’is belov'd.—How dost thou like this tune ?
Save, in the constant image of the creature bed: I know, I can do't. Su To. Possess us, possess us ; tell us something
Vio. It gives a very echo to the seat of him.
Where love is thron'd. Mar. Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of Pa
Duke. Thou dost speak masterly : ritan.
My life upon't, young though thou art, thine eye Sir And. O, if I thought that, I'd beat him like
Hath stay'd upon some favour that it loves ; Sir To. What, for being a Puritan ? thy exqui
Hath it not, boy?
Vio. site reason, dear knight?
A little, by your favour. Sir And. I have no exquisite reason for't, but I
Duke. What kind of woman is't?
Vio. have reason good enough.
Of your complexion. Mar. The devil a Puritan that he is, or any
Duke. She is not worth thee then. What years, thing constantly but a time pleaser; an affectioned
Vio. About your years, my lord. [i'faith? ass, that cons state without book, and utters it by
Duke. Too old, by heaven: Let still the woman great swarths : the best persuaded of himself, so
An elder than herself; so wears she to him, (take crammed, as he thinks, with excellencies, that it is
So sways she level in' her husband's heart. bis ground of faith, that all, that look on him, love For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, him; and on that vice in him will my revenge find
Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, notable cause to work.
More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn,
Than women's are. Sir To. What wilt thou do?
Vio. Mar. I will drop in his way some obscure epistles
I think it well, my lord. of love; wherein, by the colour of bis beard, the
Duke. Then let thy love be younger than thyself, shape of his leg, the manner of his gait, the expres.
Or thy affection cannot hold the bent: sure of his eye, forehead, and complexion, he shall
For women are as roses; whose fair flower, find himself most feelingly personated : I can write Being once display'd, doth fall that very hour. very like my lady, your niece; on a forgotten matter To die, even when
they to perfection grow!
Vio. And so they are : alas, that they are so ; we can hardly make distinction of our hands.
Sir To. Excellent! I smell a device.
Re-enter CURIO, and Clown. Sir To. He shall think, by the letters that thon Duke. O fellow, come, the song we had last wilt drop, that they come from my niece, and that Mark it, Cesario; it is old, and plain: [night :sbe is in love with him.
(colour. The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, Mar. My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that And the free maids, that weave their thread with Sir And. And your horse now would make him Do use to chaunt it; it is silly sooth, [bones, Mar. Ass, I doubt not.
[an ass. And dallies with the innocence of love, Sir And. 0, 'twill be admirable.
Like the old age. Mar. Sport royal, I warrant you: I know, my Clo. Are you ready, sir? pbysic will work with him. I will plant you two, Duke. Ay; pr’ythee, sing.
(Music.) and let the fool make a third, where he shall find the
SONG. letter; observe his construction of it. For this night, to bed, and dream on the event. Farewell. [Exit. Clo. Come away, come away, death, Sir To. Good night, Penthesilea.
And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Sir And. Before me, she's a good wenob.
Fly away, fly away, breath; Sur To. She's a beagle, true-bred, and one that I am slain by a fair cruel maid. adores me; what o'that ?
My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, Sir And. I was adored once too.
0, prepare it; Sir To. Let's to bed, kuigbto-Thou badst need My part of death no one so true send for more money.
Did share it.