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He hath a daily beauty in his life.

      — Othello, Act V Scene 1

Twelfth Night, Or What You Will

(complete text)

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Act I

1. DUKE ORSINO’s palace.

2. The sea-coast.

3. OLIVIA’S house.

4. DUKE ORSINO’s palace.

5. OLIVIA’S house.

Act II

1. The sea-coast.

2. A street.

3. OLIVIA’s house.

4. DUKE ORSINO’s palace.

5. OLIVIA’s garden.

Act III

1. OLIVIA’s garden.

2. OLIVIA’s house.

3. A street.

4. OLIVIA’s garden.

Act IV

1. Before OLIVIA’s house.

2. OLIVIA’s house.

3. OLIVIA’s garden.

Act V

1. Before OLIVIA’s house.

---
       

Act I, Scene 1

DUKE ORSINO’s palace.

      next scene .
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[Enter DUKE ORSINO, CURIO, and other Lords; Musicians attending]

  • Orsino. If music be the food of love, play on;
    Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
    The appetite may sicken, and so die.
    That strain again! it had a dying fall: 5
    O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound,
    That breathes upon a bank of violets,
    Stealing and giving odour! Enough; no more:
    'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
    O spirit of love! how quick and fresh art thou, 10
    That, notwithstanding thy capacity
    Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,
    Of what validity and pitch soe'er,
    But falls into abatement and low price,
    Even in a minute: so full of shapes is fancy 15
    That it alone is high fantastical.
  • Curio. Will you go hunt, my lord?
  • Orsino. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have: 20
    O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first,
    Methought she purged the air of pestilence!
    That instant was I turn'd into a hart;
    And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,
    E'er since pursue me. 25
    [Enter VALENTINE]
    How now! what news from her?
  • Valentine. So please my lord, I might not be admitted;
    But from her handmaid do return this answer:
    The element itself, till seven years' heat, 30
    Shall not behold her face at ample view;
    But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk
    And water once a day her chamber round
    With eye-offending brine: all this to season
    A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh 35
    And lasting in her sad remembrance.
  • Orsino. O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame
    To pay this debt of love but to a brother,
    How will she love, when the rich golden shaft
    Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else 40
    That live in her; when liver, brain and heart,
    These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and fill'd
    Her sweet perfections with one self king!
    Away before me to sweet beds of flowers:
    Love-thoughts lie rich when canopied with bowers. 45

[Exeunt]

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. previous scene      

Act I, Scene 2

The sea-coast.

      next scene .
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[Enter VIOLA, a Captain, and Sailors]

  • Viola. What country, friends, is this?
  • Viola. And what should I do in Illyria? 50
    My brother he is in Elysium.
    Perchance he is not drown'd: what think you, sailors?
  • Captain. It is perchance that you yourself were saved.
  • Viola. O my poor brother! and so perchance may he be.
  • Captain. True, madam: and, to comfort you with chance, 55
    Assure yourself, after our ship did split,
    When you and those poor number saved with you
    Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother,
    Most provident in peril, bind himself,
    Courage and hope both teaching him the practise, 60
    To a strong mast that lived upon the sea;
    Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back,
    I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves
    So long as I could see.
  • Viola. For saying so, there's gold: 65
    Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,
    Whereto thy speech serves for authority,
    The like of him. Know'st thou this country?
  • Captain. Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and born
    Not three hours' travel from this very place. 70
  • Viola. Who governs here?
  • Captain. A noble duke, in nature as in name.
  • Viola. What is the name?
  • Viola. Orsino! I have heard my father name him: 75
    He was a bachelor then.
  • Captain. And so is now, or was so very late;
    For but a month ago I went from hence,
    And then 'twas fresh in murmur,—as, you know,
    What great ones do the less will prattle of,— 80
    That he did seek the love of fair Olivia.
  • Captain. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count
    That died some twelvemonth since, then leaving her
    In the protection of his son, her brother, 85
    Who shortly also died: for whose dear love,
    They say, she hath abjured the company
    And sight of men.
  • Viola. O that I served that lady
    And might not be delivered to the world, 90
    Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,
    What my estate is!
  • Captain. That were hard to compass;
    Because she will admit no kind of suit,
    No, not the duke's. 95
  • Viola. There is a fair behavior in thee, captain;
    And though that nature with a beauteous wall
    Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee
    I will believe thou hast a mind that suits
    With this thy fair and outward character. 100
    I prithee, and I'll pay thee bounteously,
    Conceal me what I am, and be my aid
    For such disguise as haply shall become
    The form of my intent. I'll serve this duke:
    Thou shall present me as an eunuch to him: 105
    It may be worth thy pains; for I can sing
    And speak to him in many sorts of music
    That will allow me very worth his service.
    What else may hap to time I will commit;
    Only shape thou thy silence to my wit. 110
  • Captain. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be:
    When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see.
  • Viola. I thank thee: lead me on.

[Exeunt]

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Act I, Scene 3

OLIVIA’S house.

      next scene .
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[Enter SIR TOBY BELCH and MARIA]

  • Sir Toby Belch. What a plague means my niece, to take the death of
    her brother thus? I am sure care's an enemy to life.
  • Maria. By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier o'
    nights: your cousin, my lady, takes great
    exceptions to your ill hours. 120
  • Maria. Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest
    limits of order.
  • Sir Toby Belch. Confine! I'll confine myself no finer than I am:
    these clothes are good enough to drink in; and so be 125
    these boots too: an they be not, let them hang
    themselves in their own straps.
  • Maria. That quaffing and drinking will undo you: I heard
    my lady talk of it yesterday; and of a foolish
    knight that you brought in one night here to be her wooer. 130
  • Maria. What's that to the purpose?
  • Maria. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats:
    he's a very fool and a prodigal.
  • Sir Toby Belch. Fie, that you'll say so! he plays o' the
    viol-de-gamboys, and speaks three or four languages
    word for word without book, and hath all the good 140
    gifts of nature.
  • Maria. He hath indeed, almost natural: for besides that
    he's a fool, he's a great quarreller: and but that
    he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he
    hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among the prudent 145
    he would quickly have the gift of a grave.
  • Sir Toby Belch. By this hand, they are scoundrels and subtractors
    that say so of him. Who are they?
  • Maria. They that add, moreover, he's drunk nightly in your company.
  • Sir Toby Belch. With drinking healths to my niece: I'll drink to 150
    her as long as there is a passage in my throat and
    drink in Illyria: he's a coward and a coystrill
    that will not drink to my niece till his brains turn
    o' the toe like a parish-top. What, wench!
    Castiliano vulgo! for here comes Sir Andrew Agueface. 155

[Enter SIR ANDREW]

  • Maria. And you too, sir. 160
  • Maria. My name is Mary, sir. 165
  • Sir Toby Belch. You mistake, knight; 'accost' is front her, board
    her, woo her, assail her.
  • Sir Andrew Aguecheek. By my troth, I would not undertake her in this
    company. Is that the meaning of 'accost'? 170
  • Maria. Fare you well, gentlemen.
  • Sir Toby Belch. An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, would thou mightst
    never draw sword again.
  • Sir Andrew Aguecheek. An you part so, mistress, I would I might never
    draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think you have 175
    fools in hand?
  • Maria. Sir, I have not you by the hand.
  • Maria. Now, sir, 'thought is free:' I pray you, bring
    your hand to the buttery-bar and let it drink. 180
  • Sir Andrew Aguecheek. Why, I think so: I am not such an ass but I can
    keep my hand dry. But what's your jest?
  • Maria. A dry jest, sir. 185
  • Maria. Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers' ends: marry,
    now I let go your hand, I am barren.

[Exit]

  • Sir Toby Belch. O knight thou lackest a cup of canary: when did I 190
    see thee so put down?
  • Sir Andrew Aguecheek. Never in your life, I think; unless you see canary
    put me down. Methinks sometimes I have no more wit
    than a Christian or an ordinary man has: but I am a
    great eater of beef and I believe that does harm to my wit. 195
  • Sir Andrew Aguecheek. What is 'Pourquoi'? do or not do? I would I had 200
    bestowed that time in the tongues that I have in
    fencing, dancing and bear-baiting: O, had I but
    followed the arts!
  • Sir Toby Belch. Past question; for thou seest it will not curl by nature.
  • Sir Toby Belch. Excellent; it hangs like flax on a distaff; and I
    hope to see a housewife take thee between her legs
    and spin it off. 210
  • Sir Andrew Aguecheek. Faith, I'll home to-morrow, Sir Toby: your niece
    will not be seen; or if she be, it's four to one
    she'll none of me: the count himself here hard by woos her.
  • Sir Toby Belch. She'll none o' the count: she'll not match above
    her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; I 215
    have heard her swear't. Tut, there's life in't,
    man.
  • Sir Andrew Aguecheek. I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o' the
    strangest mind i' the world; I delight in masques
    and revels sometimes altogether. 220
  • Sir Andrew Aguecheek. As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be, under the
    degree of my betters; and yet I will not compare
    with an old man.
  • Sir Toby Belch. Wherefore are these things hid? wherefore have 230
    these gifts a curtain before 'em? are they like to
    take dust, like Mistress Mall's picture? why dost
    thou not go to church in a galliard and come home in
    a coranto? My very walk should be a jig; I would not
    so much as make water but in a sink-a-pace. What 235
    dost thou mean? Is it a world to hide virtues in?
    I did think, by the excellent constitution of thy
    leg, it was formed under the star of a galliard.
  • Sir Andrew Aguecheek. Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent well in a
    flame-coloured stock. Shall we set about some revels? 240
  • Sir Toby Belch. What shall we do else? were we not born under Taurus?
  • Sir Toby Belch. No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let me see the
    caper; ha! higher: ha, ha! excellent!

[Exeunt]

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. previous scene      

Act I, Scene 4

DUKE ORSINO’s palace.

      next scene .
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[Enter VALENTINE and VIOLA in man's attire]

  • Valentine. If the duke continue these favours towards you,
    Cesario, you are like to be much advanced: he hath
    known you but three days, and already you are no stranger.
  • Viola. You either fear his humour or my negligence, that 250
    you call in question the continuance of his love:
    is he inconstant, sir, in his favours?
  • Viola. I thank you. Here comes the count.

[Enter DUKE ORSINO, CURIO, and Attendants]

  • Viola. On your attendance, my lord; here.
  • Orsino. Stand you a while aloof, Cesario,
    Thou know'st no less but all; I have unclasp'd
    To thee the book even of my secret soul: 260
    Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her;
    Be not denied access, stand at her doors,
    And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow
    Till thou have audience.
  • Viola. Sure, my noble lord, 265
    If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow
    As it is spoke, she never will admit me.
  • Orsino. Be clamorous and leap all civil bounds
    Rather than make unprofited return.
  • Viola. Say I do speak with her, my lord, what then? 270
  • Orsino. O, then unfold the passion of my love,
    Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith:
    It shall become thee well to act my woes;
    She will attend it better in thy youth
    Than in a nuncio's of more grave aspect. 275
  • Viola. I think not so, my lord.
  • Orsino. Dear lad, believe it;
    For they shall yet belie thy happy years,
    That say thou art a man: Diana's lip
    Is not more smooth and rubious; thy small pipe 280
    Is as the maiden's organ, shrill and sound,
    And all is semblative a woman's part.
    I know thy constellation is right apt
    For this affair. Some four or five attend him;
    All, if you will; for I myself am best 285
    When least in company. Prosper well in this,
    And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord,
    To call his fortunes thine.
  • Viola. I'll do my best
    To woo your lady: 290
    [Aside]
    yet, a barful strife!
    Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife.

[Exeunt]

---
. previous scene      

Act I, Scene 5

OLIVIA’S house.

      next scene .
---

[Enter MARIA and Clown]

  • Maria. Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will
    not open my lips so wide as a bristle may enter in
    way of thy excuse: my lady will hang thee for thy absence.
  • Feste. Let her hang me: he that is well hanged in this
    world needs to fear no colours. 300
  • Feste. He shall see none to fear.
  • Maria. A good lenten answer: I can tell thee where that
    saying was born, of 'I fear no colours.'
  • Feste. Where, good Mistress Mary? 305
  • Maria. In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in your foolery.
  • Feste. Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those
    that are fools, let them use their talents.
  • Maria. Yet you will be hanged for being so long absent; or,
    to be turned away, is not that as good as a hanging to you? 310
  • Feste. Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage; and,
    for turning away, let summer bear it out.
  • Maria. You are resolute, then?
  • Feste. Not so, neither; but I am resolved on two points.
  • Maria. That if one break, the other will hold; or, if both 315
    break, your gaskins fall.
  • Feste. Apt, in good faith; very apt. Well, go thy way; if
    Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a
    piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria.
  • Maria. Peace, you rogue, no more o' that. Here comes my 320
    lady: make your excuse wisely, you were best.

[Exit]

  • Feste. Wit, an't be thy will, put me into good fooling!
    Those wits, that think they have thee, do very oft
    prove fools; and I, that am sure I lack thee, may 325
    pass for a wise man: for what says Quinapalus?
    'Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit.'
    [Enter OLIVIA with MALVOLIO]
    God bless thee, lady!
  • Olivia. Take the fool away. 330
  • Feste. Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady.
  • Olivia. Go to, you're a dry fool; I'll no more of you:
    besides, you grow dishonest.
  • Feste. Two faults, madonna, that drink and good counsel
    will amend: for give the dry fool drink, then is 335
    the fool not dry: bid the dishonest man mend
    himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if
    he cannot, let the botcher mend him. Any thing
    that's mended is but patched: virtue that
    transgresses is but patched with sin; and sin that 340
    amends is but patched with virtue. If that this
    simple syllogism will serve, so; if it will not,
    what remedy? As there is no true cuckold but
    calamity, so beauty's a flower. The lady bade take
    away the fool; therefore, I say again, take her away. 345
  • Olivia. Sir, I bade them take away you.
  • Feste. Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, cucullus non
    facit monachum; that's as much to say as I wear not
    motley in my brain. Good madonna, give me leave to
    prove you a fool. 350
  • Feste. Dexterously, good madonna.
  • Feste. I must catechise you for it, madonna: good my mouse
    of virtue, answer me. 355
  • Olivia. Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I'll bide your proof.
  • Feste. Good madonna, why mournest thou?
  • Olivia. Good fool, for my brother's death.
  • Feste. I think his soul is in hell, madonna.
  • Olivia. I know his soul is in heaven, fool. 360
  • Feste. The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your brother's
    soul being in heaven. Take away the fool, gentlemen.
  • Olivia. What think you of this fool, Malvolio? doth he not mend?
  • Malvolio. Yes, and shall do till the pangs of death shake him:
    infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever make the 365
    better fool.
  • Feste. God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the
    better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will be
    sworn that I am no fox; but he will not pass his
    word for two pence that you are no fool. 370
  • Olivia. How say you to that, Malvolio?
  • Malvolio. I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such a
    barren rascal: I saw him put down the other day
    with an ordinary fool that has no more brain
    than a stone. Look you now, he's out of his guard 375
    already; unless you laugh and minister occasion to
    him, he is gagged. I protest, I take these wise men,
    that crow so at these set kind of fools, no better
    than the fools' zanies.
  • Olivia. Oh, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste 380
    with a distempered appetite. To be generous,
    guiltless and of free disposition, is to take those
    things for bird-bolts that you deem cannon-bullets:
    there is no slander in an allowed fool, though he do
    nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known discreet 385
    man, though he do nothing but reprove.
  • Feste. Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for thou
    speakest well of fools!

[Re-enter MARIA]

  • Maria. Madam, there is at the gate a young gentleman much 390
    desires to speak with you.
  • Olivia. From the Count Orsino, is it?
  • Maria. I know not, madam: 'tis a fair young man, and well attended.
  • Olivia. Who of my people hold him in delay?
  • Maria. Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman. 395
  • Olivia. Fetch him off, I pray you; he speaks nothing but
    madman: fie on him!
    [Exit MARIA]
    Go you, Malvolio: if it be a suit from the count, I
    am sick, or not at home; what you will, to dismiss it. 400
    [Exit MALVOLIO]
    Now you see, sir, how your fooling grows old, and
    people dislike it.
  • Feste. Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy eldest
    son should be a fool; whose skull Jove cram with 405
    brains! for,—here he comes,—one of thy kin has a
    most weak pia mater.

[Enter SIR TOBY BELCH]

  • Olivia. By mine honour, half drunk. What is he at the gate, cousin?
  • Olivia. A gentleman! what gentleman?
  • Sir Toby Belch. 'Tis a gentle man here—a plague o' these
    pickle-herring! How now, sot!
  • Olivia. Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by this lethargy? 415
  • Olivia. Ay, marry, what is he?
  • Sir Toby Belch. Let him be the devil, an he will, I care not: give
    me faith, say I. Well, it's all one.

[Exit]

  • Olivia. What's a drunken man like, fool?
  • Feste. Like a drowned man, a fool and a mad man: one
    draught above heat makes him a fool; the second mads
    him; and a third drowns him.
  • Olivia. Go thou and seek the crowner, and let him sit o' my 425
    coz; for he's in the third degree of drink, he's
    drowned: go, look after him.
  • Feste. He is but mad yet, madonna; and the fool shall look
    to the madman.

[Exit]

[Re-enter MALVOLIO]

  • Malvolio. Madam, yond young fellow swears he will speak with
    you. I told him you were sick; he takes on him to
    understand so much, and therefore comes to speak
    with you. I told him you were asleep; he seems to 435
    have a foreknowledge of that too, and therefore
    comes to speak with you. What is to be said to him,
    lady? he's fortified against any denial.
  • Olivia. Tell him he shall not speak with me.
  • Malvolio. Has been told so; and he says, he'll stand at your 440
    door like a sheriff's post, and be the supporter to
    a bench, but he'll speak with you.
  • Olivia. What kind o' man is he?
  • Olivia. What manner of man? 445
  • Malvolio. Of very ill manner; he'll speak with you, will you or no.
  • Olivia. Of what personage and years is he?
  • Malvolio. Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough for
    a boy; as a squash is before 'tis a peascod, or a
    cooling when 'tis almost an apple: 'tis with him 450
    in standing water, between boy and man. He is very
    well-favoured and he speaks very shrewishly; one
    would think his mother's milk were scarce out of him.
  • Olivia. Let him approach: call in my gentlewoman.
  • Malvolio. Gentlewoman, my lady calls. 455

[Exit]

[Re-enter MARIA]

  • Olivia. Give me my veil: come, throw it o'er my face.
    We'll once more hear Orsino's embassy.

[Enter VIOLA, and Attendants]

  • Viola. The honourable lady of the house, which is she?
  • Olivia. Speak to me; I shall answer for her.
    Your will?
  • Viola. Most radiant, exquisite and unmatchable beauty,—I
    pray you, tell me if this be the lady of the house, 465
    for I never saw her: I would be loath to cast away
    my speech, for besides that it is excellently well
    penned, I have taken great pains to con it. Good
    beauties, let me sustain no scorn; I am very
    comptible, even to the least sinister usage. 470
  • Olivia. Whence came you, sir?
  • Viola. I can say little more than I have studied, and that
    question's out of my part. Good gentle one, give me
    modest assurance if you be the lady of the house,
    that I may proceed in my speech. 475
  • Viola. No, my profound heart: and yet, by the very fangs
    of malice I swear, I am not that I play. Are you
    the lady of the house?
  • Olivia. If I do not usurp myself, I am. 480
  • Viola. Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp
    yourself; for what is yours to bestow is not yours
    to reserve. But this is from my commission: I will
    on with my speech in your praise, and then show you
    the heart of my message. 485
  • Olivia. Come to what is important in't: I forgive you the praise.
  • Viola. Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis poetical.
  • Olivia. It is the more like to be feigned: I pray you,
    keep it in. I heard you were saucy at my gates,
    and allowed your approach rather to wonder at you 490
    than to hear you. If you be not mad, be gone; if
    you have reason, be brief: 'tis not that time of
    moon with me to make one in so skipping a dialogue.
  • Maria. Will you hoist sail, sir? here lies your way.
  • Viola. No, good swabber; I am to hull here a little 495
    longer. Some mollification for your giant, sweet
    lady. Tell me your mind: I am a messenger.
  • Olivia. Sure, you have some hideous matter to deliver, when
    the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak your office.
  • Viola. It alone concerns your ear. I bring no overture of 500
    war, no taxation of homage: I hold the olive in my
    hand; my words are as fun of peace as matter.
  • Olivia. Yet you began rudely. What are you? what would you?
  • Viola. The rudeness that hath appeared in me have I
    learned from my entertainment. What I am, and what I 505
    would, are as secret as maidenhead; to your ears,
    divinity, to any other's, profanation.
  • Olivia. Give us the place alone: we will hear this divinity.
    [Exeunt MARIA and Attendants]
    Now, sir, what is your text? 510
  • Viola. Most sweet lady,—
  • Olivia. A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said of it.
    Where lies your text?
  • Viola. In Orsino's bosom.
  • Olivia. In his bosom! In what chapter of his bosom? 515
  • Viola. To answer by the method, in the first of his heart.
  • Olivia. O, I have read it: it is heresy. Have you no more to say?
  • Viola. Good madam, let me see your face.
  • Olivia. Have you any commission from your lord to negotiate
    with my face? You are now out of your text: but 520
    we will draw the curtain and show you the picture.
    Look you, sir, such a one I was this present: is't
    not well done?

[Unveiling]

  • Viola. Excellently done, if God did all. 525
  • Olivia. 'Tis in grain, sir; 'twill endure wind and weather.
  • Viola. 'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white
    Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on:
    Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive,
    If you will lead these graces to the grave 530
    And leave the world no copy.
  • Olivia. O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will give
    out divers schedules of my beauty: it shall be
    inventoried, and every particle and utensil
    labelled to my will: as, item, two lips, 535
    indifferent red; item, two grey eyes, with lids to
    them; item, one neck, one chin, and so forth. Were
    you sent hither to praise me?
  • Viola. I see you what you are, you are too proud;
    But, if you were the devil, you are fair. 540
    My lord and master loves you: O, such love
    Could be but recompensed, though you were crown'd
    The nonpareil of beauty!
  • Viola. With adorations, fertile tears, 545
    With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.
  • Olivia. Your lord does know my mind; I cannot love him:
    Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble,
    Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth;
    In voices well divulged, free, learn'd and valiant; 550
    And in dimension and the shape of nature
    A gracious person: but yet I cannot love him;
    He might have took his answer long ago.
  • Viola. If I did love you in my master's flame,
    With such a suffering, such a deadly life, 555
    In your denial I would find no sense;
    I would not understand it.
  • Viola. Make me a willow cabin at your gate,
    And call upon my soul within the house; 560
    Write loyal cantons of contemned love
    And sing them loud even in the dead of night;
    Halloo your name to the reverberate hills
    And make the babbling gossip of the air
    Cry out 'Olivia!' O, You should not rest 565
    Between the elements of air and earth,
    But you should pity me!
  • Olivia. You might do much.
    What is your parentage?
  • Viola. Above my fortunes, yet my state is well: 570
    I am a gentleman.
  • Olivia. Get you to your lord;
    I cannot love him: let him send no more;
    Unless, perchance, you come to me again,
    To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well: 575
    I thank you for your pains: spend this for me.
  • Viola. I am no fee'd post, lady; keep your purse:
    My master, not myself, lacks recompense.
    Love make his heart of flint that you shall love;
    And let your fervor, like my master's, be 580
    Placed in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty.

[Exit]

  • Olivia. 'What is your parentage?'
    'Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:
    I am a gentleman.' I'll be sworn thou art; 585
    Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions and spirit,
    Do give thee five-fold blazon: not too fast:
    soft, soft!
    Unless the master were the man. How now!
    Even so quickly may one catch the plague? 590
    Methinks I feel this youth's perfections
    With an invisible and subtle stealth
    To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.
    What ho, Malvolio!

[Re-enter MALVOLIO]

  • Malvolio. Here, madam, at your service.
  • Olivia. Run after that same peevish messenger,
    The county's man: he left this ring behind him,
    Would I or not: tell him I'll none of it.
    Desire him not to flatter with his lord, 600
    Nor hold him up with hopes; I am not for him:
    If that the youth will come this way to-morrow,
    I'll give him reasons for't: hie thee, Malvolio.

[Exit]

  • Olivia. I do I know not what, and fear to find
    Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind.
    Fate, show thy force: ourselves we do not owe;
    What is decreed must be, and be this so.

[Exit]

---
. previous scene      

Act II, Scene 1

The sea-coast.

      next scene .
---

[Enter ANTONIO and SEBASTIAN]

  • Antonio. Will you stay no longer? nor will you not that I go with you?
  • Sebastian. By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly over
    me: the malignancy of my fate might perhaps
    distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of you your 615
    leave that I may bear my evils alone: it were a bad
    recompense for your love, to lay any of them on you.
  • Sebastian. No, sooth, sir: my determinate voyage is mere
    extravagancy. But I perceive in you so excellent a 620
    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 know of me then, Antonio, my name is Sebastian,
    which I called Roderigo. My father was that 625
    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 heavens had been pleased,
    would we had so ended! but you, sir, altered that;
    for some hour before you took me from the breach of 630
    the sea was my sister drowned.
  • Sebastian. 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 635
    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.
  • Antonio. Pardon me, sir, your bad entertainment. 640
  • Sebastian. O good Antonio, forgive me your trouble.
  • Antonio. If you will not murder me for my love, let me be
    your servant.
  • Sebastian. If you will not undo what you have done, that is,
    kill him whom you have recovered, desire it not. 645
    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. I am bound to the Count Orsino's court: farewell.

[Exit]

  • Antonio. The gentleness of all the gods go with thee!
    I have many enemies in Orsino's court,
    Else would I very shortly see thee there.
    But, come what may, I do adore thee so,
    That danger shall seem sport, and I will go. 655

[Exit]

---
. previous scene      

Act II, Scene 2

A street.

      next scene .
---

[Enter VIOLA, MALVOLIO following]

  • Malvolio. Were not you even now with the Countess Olivia?
  • Viola. Even now, sir; on a moderate pace I have since
    arrived but hither. 660
  • Malvolio. 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 665
    come again in his affairs, unless it be to report
    your lord's taking of this. Receive it so.
  • Viola. She took the ring of me: I'll none of it.
  • Malvolio. Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her; and her
    will is, it should be so returned: if it be worth 670
    stooping for, there it lies in your eye; if not, be
    it his that finds it.

[Exit]

  • Viola. I left no ring with her: what means this lady?
    Fortune forbid my outside have not charm'd her! 675
    She made good view of me; indeed, so much,
    That sure methought her eyes had lost her tongue,
    For she did speak in starts distractedly.
    She loves me, sure; the cunning of her passion
    Invites me in this churlish messenger. 680
    None of my lord's ring! why, he sent her none.
    I am the man: if it be so, as 'tis,
    Poor lady, she were better love a dream.
    Disguise, I see, thou art a wickedness,
    Wherein the pregnant enemy does much. 685
    How easy is it for the proper-false
    In women's waxen hearts to set their forms!
    Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we!
    For such as we are made of, such we be.
    How will this fadge? my master loves her dearly; 690
    And I, poor monster, fond as much on him;
    And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me.
    What will become of this? As I am man,
    My state is desperate for my master's love;
    As I am woman,—now alas the day!— 695
    What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe!
    O time! thou must untangle this, not I;
    It is too hard a knot for me to untie!

[Exit]

---
. previous scene      

Act II, Scene 3

OLIVIA’s house.

      next scene .
---

[Enter SIR TOBY BELCH and SIR ANDREW]

  • Sir Toby Belch. Approach, Sir Andrew: not to be abed after
    midnight is to be up betimes; and 'diluculo
    surgere,' thou know'st,—
  • Sir Toby Belch. A false conclusion: I hate it as an unfilled 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. Does not our life consist of the
    four elements? 710
  • Sir Toby Belch. Thou'rt a scholar; let us therefore eat and drink.
    Marian, I say! a stoup of wine!

[Enter Clown]

  • Feste. How now, my hearts! did you never see the picture
    of 'we three'?
  • Sir Andrew Aguecheek. By my troth, the fool has an excellent breast. I 720
    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 passing the equinoctial of Queubus: 'twas 725
    very good, i' faith. I sent thee sixpence for thy
    leman: hadst it?
  • Feste. 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. 730
  • Sir Toby Belch. Come on; there is sixpence for you: let's have a song.
  • Feste. Would you have a love-song, or a song of good life? 735
  • Feste. [Sings]
    O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
    O, stay and hear; your true love's coming, 740
    That can sing both high and low:
    Trip no further, pretty sweeting;
    Journeys end in lovers meeting,
    Every wise man's son doth know.
  • Feste. [Sings]
    What is love? 'tis not hereafter;
    Present mirth hath present laughter;
    What's to come is still unsure: 750
    In delay there lies no plenty;
    Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty,
    Youth's a stuff will not endure.
  • Sir Toby Belch. 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? 760
  • Feste. By'r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well.
  • Feste. 'Hold thy peace, thou knave,' knight? I shall be
    constrained in't to call thee knave, knight. 765
  • Sir Andrew Aguecheek. 'Tis not the first time I have constrained one to
    call me knave. Begin, fool: it begins 'Hold thy peace.'
  • Feste. I shall never begin if I hold my peace.

[Catch sung]

[Enter MARIA]

  • Maria. 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 Toby Belch. My lady's a Cataian, we are politicians, Malvolio's 775
    a Peg-a-Ramsey, and 'Three merry men be we.' Am not
    I consanguineous? am I not of her blood?
    Tillyvally. Lady!
    [Sings]
    'There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady, lady!' 780
  • Feste. Beshrew me, the knight's in admirable fooling.
  • Sir Andrew Aguecheek. 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.
  • Maria. For the love o' God, peace!

[Enter MALVOLIO]

  • Malvolio. My masters, are you mad? or what are you? Have ye
    no wit, manners, nor honesty, but to gabble like
    tinkers at this time of night? Do ye make an 790
    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?
  • Malvolio. Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My lady bade me
    tell you, that, though she harbours you as her
    kinsman, she's nothing allied to your disorders. If
    you can separate yourself and your misdemeanors, you
    are welcome to the house; if not, an it would please 800
    you to take leave of her, she is very willing to bid
    you farewell.
  • Maria. Nay, good Sir Toby.
  • Feste. 'His eyes do show his days are almost done.' 805
  • Feste. Sir Toby, there you lie.
  • Feste. 'What an if you do?'
  • Feste. 'O no, no, no, no, you dare not.'
  • Sir Toby Belch. Out o' tune, sir: ye lie. Art any more than a
    steward? Dost thou think, because thou art 815
    virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?
  • Feste. Yes, by Saint Anne, and ginger shall be hot i' the
    mouth too.
  • Sir Toby Belch. Thou'rt i' the right. Go, sir, rub your chain with
    crumbs. A stoup of wine, Maria! 820
  • Malvolio. 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]

  • Maria. Go shake your ears. 825
  • Sir Andrew Aguecheek. 'Twere as good a deed as to drink when a man's
    a-hungry, to challenge him the field, and then to
    break promise with him and make a fool of him.
  • Sir Toby Belch. Do't, knight: I'll write thee a challenge: or I'll
    deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth. 830
  • Maria. Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for tonight: since the
    youth of the count's was today with thy lady, she is
    much out of quiet. For Monsieur Malvolio, let me
    alone with him: if I do not gull him into a
    nayword, and make him a common recreation, do not 835
    think I have wit enough to lie straight in my bed:
    I know I can do it.
  • Maria. Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of puritan.
  • Sir Toby Belch. What, for being a puritan? thy exquisite reason,
    dear knight?
  • Maria. The devil a puritan that he is, or any thing 845
    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 excellencies, that it is
    his grounds of faith that all that look on him love 850
    him; and on that vice in him will my revenge find
    notable cause to work.
  • Maria. I will drop in his way some obscure epistles of
    love; wherein, by the colour of his beard, the shape 855
    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. 860
  • Sir Toby Belch. He shall think, by the letters that thou wilt drop,
    that they come from my niece, and that she's in
    love with him. 865
  • Maria. My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour.
  • Maria. Ass, I doubt not.
  • Maria. Sport royal, I warrant you: I know my physic will 870
    work with him. I will plant you two, and let the
    fool make a third, where he shall find the letter:
    observe his construction of it. For this night, to
    bed, and dream on the event. Farewell.

[Exit]

  • Sir Toby Belch. She's a beagle, true-bred, and one that adores me:
    what o' that?
  • Sir Toby Belch. Let's to bed, knight. Thou hadst need send for
    more money.
  • Sir Toby Belch. Send for money, knight: if thou hast her not i'
    the end, call me cut. 885
  • Sir Toby Belch. Come, come, I'll go burn some sack; 'tis too late
    to go to bed now: come, knight; come, knight.

[Exeunt]

---
. previous scene      

Act II, Scene 4

DUKE ORSINO’s palace.

      next scene .
---

[Enter DUKE ORSINO, VIOLA, CURIO, and others]

  • Orsino. Give me some music. Now, good morrow, friends.
    Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song,
    That old and antique song we heard last night:
    Methought it did relieve my passion much,
    More than light airs and recollected terms 895
    Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times:
    Come, but one verse.
  • Curio. He is not here, so please your lordship that should sing it.
  • Curio. Feste, the jester, my lord; a fool that the lady 900
    Olivia's father took much delight in. He is about the house.
  • Orsino. Seek him out, and play the tune the while.
    [Exit CURIO. Music plays]
    Come hither, boy: if ever thou shalt love,
    In the sweet pangs of it remember me; 905
    For such as I am all true lovers are,
    Unstaid and skittish in all motions else,
    Save in the constant image of the creature
    That is beloved. How dost thou like this tune?
  • Viola. It gives a very echo to the seat 910
    Where Love is throned.
  • Orsino. Thou dost speak masterly:
    My life upon't, young though thou art, thine eye
    Hath stay'd upon some favour that it loves:
    Hath it not, boy? 915
  • Viola. A little, by your favour.
  • Orsino. What kind of woman is't?
  • Viola. Of your complexion.
  • Orsino. She is not worth thee, then. What years, i' faith?
  • Viola. About your years, my lord. 920
  • Orsino. Too old by heaven: let still the woman take
    An elder than herself: so wears she to him,
    So sways she level in her husband's heart:
    For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,
    Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, 925
    More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn,
    Than women's are.
  • Viola. I think it well, my lord.
  • Orsino. Then let thy love be younger than thyself,
    Or thy affection cannot hold the bent; 930
    For women are as roses, whose fair flower
    Being once display'd, doth fall that very hour.
  • Viola. And so they are: alas, that they are so;
    To die, even when they to perfection grow!

[Re-enter CURIO and Clown]

  • Orsino. O, fellow, come, the song we had last night.
    Mark it, Cesario, it is old and plain;
    The spinsters and the knitters in the sun
    And the free maids that weave their thread with bones
    Do use to chant it: it is silly sooth, 940
    And dallies with the innocence of love,
    Like the old age.
  • Feste. Are you ready, sir?
  • Orsino. Ay; prithee, sing.
    [Music] 945
    SONG.
  • Feste. Come away, come away, death,
    And in sad cypress let me be laid;
    Fly away, fly away breath;
    I am slain by a fair cruel maid. 950
    My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,
    O, prepare it!
    My part of death, no one so true
    Did share it.
    Not a flower, not a flower sweet 955
    On my black coffin let there be strown;
    Not a friend, not a friend greet
    My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown:
    A thousand thousand sighs to save,
    Lay me, O, where 960
    Sad true lover never find my grave,
    To weep there!
  • Orsino. There's for thy pains.
  • Feste. No pains, sir: I take pleasure in singing, sir.
  • Orsino. I'll pay thy pleasure then. 965
  • Feste. Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or another.
  • Orsino. Give me now leave to leave thee.
  • Feste. Now, the melancholy god protect thee; and the
    tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffeta, for
    thy mind is a very opal. I would have men of such 970
    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]

  • Orsino. Let all the rest give place. 975
    [CURIO and Attendants retire]
    Once more, Cesario,
    Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty:
    Tell her, my love, more noble than the world,
    Prizes not quantity of dirty lands; 980
    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.
  • Viola. But if she cannot love you, sir? 985
  • Orsino. I cannot be so answer'd.
  • Viola. Sooth, but you must.
    Say that some lady, as perhaps there is,
    Hath for your love a great a pang of heart
    As you have for Olivia: you cannot love her; 990
    You tell her so; must she not then be answer'd?
  • Orsino. There is no woman's sides
    Can bide the beating of so strong a passion
    As love doth give my heart; no woman's heart
    So big, to hold so much; they lack retention 995
    Alas, their love may be call'd appetite,
    No motion of the liver, but the palate,
    That suffer surfeit, cloyment and revolt;
    But mine is all as hungry as the sea,
    And can digest as much: make no compare 1000
    Between that love a woman can bear me
    And that I owe Olivia.
  • Viola. Ay, but I know—
  • Viola. Too well what love women to men may owe: 1005
    In faith, they are as true of heart as we.
    My father had a daughter loved a man,
    As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman,
    I should your lordship.
  • Orsino. And what's her history? 1010
  • Viola. A blank, my lord. She never told her love,
    But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,
    Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought,
    And with a green and yellow melancholy
    She sat like patience on a monument, 1015
    Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?
    We men may say more, swear more: but indeed
    Our shows are more than will; for still we prove
    Much in our vows, but little in our love.
  • Orsino. But died thy sister of her love, my boy? 1020
  • Viola. I am all the daughters of my father's house,
    And all the brothers too: and yet I know not.
    Sir, shall I to this lady?
  • Orsino. Ay, that's the theme.
    To her in haste; give her this jewel; say, 1025
    My love can give no place, bide no denay.

[Exeunt]

---
. previous scene      

Act II, Scene 5

OLIVIA’s garden.

      next scene .
---

[Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN]

  • Fabian. Nay, I'll come: if I lose a scruple of this sport, 1030
    let me be boiled to death with melancholy.
  • Sir Toby Belch. Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly
    rascally sheep-biter come by some notable shame?
  • Fabian. I would exult, man: you know, he brought me out o'
    favour with my lady about a bear-baiting here. 1035
  • Sir Toby Belch. To anger him we'll have the bear again; and we will
    fool him black and blue: shall we not, Sir Andrew?
  • Sir Toby Belch. Here comes the little villain.
    [Enter MARIA] 1040
    How now, my metal of India!
  • Maria. Get ye all three into the box-tree: Malvolio's
    coming down this walk: he has been yonder i' the
    sun practising behavior to his own shadow this half
    hour: observe him, for the love of mockery; for I 1045
    know this letter will make a contemplative idiot of
    him. Close, in the name of jesting! Lie thou there,
    [Throws down a letter]
    for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling.

[Exit]

[Enter MALVOLIO]

  • Malvolio. '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 should be one
    of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a more 1055
    exalted respect than any one else that follows her.
    What should I think on't?
  • Fabian. O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock
    of him: how he jets under his advanced plumes! 1060
  • Malvolio. There is example for't; the lady of the Strachy
    married the yeoman of the wardrobe.
  • Fabian. O, peace! now he's deeply in: look how 1070
    imagination blows him.
  • Malvolio. Having been three months married to her, sitting in
    my state,—
  • Malvolio. Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet 1075
    gown; having come from a day-bed, where I have left
    Olivia sleeping,—
  • Malvolio. And then to have the humour of state; and after a 1080
    demure travel of regard, telling them I know my
    place as I would they should do theirs, to for my
    kinsman Toby,—
  • Fabian. O peace, peace, peace! now, now. 1085
  • Malvolio. Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make
    out for him: I frown the while; and perchance wind
    up watch, or play with my—some rich jewel. Toby
    approaches; courtesies there to me,—
  • Fabian. Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace.
  • Malvolio. I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar
    smile with an austere regard of control,—
  • Malvolio. Saying, 'Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast me on 1095
    your niece give me this prerogative of speech,'—
  • Malvolio. 'You must amend your drunkenness.'
  • Fabian. Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot. 1100
  • Malvolio. 'Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with
    a foolish knight,'—
  • Malvolio. What employment have we here?

[Taking up the letter]

  • Fabian. Now is the woodcock near the gin.
  • Sir Toby Belch. O, peace! and the spirit of humour intimate reading
    aloud to him! 1110
  • Malvolio. By my life, this is my lady's hand these be her
    very C's, her U's and her T's and thus makes she her
    great P's. It is, in contempt of question, her hand.
  • Malvolio. [Reads] 'To the unknown beloved, this, and my good 1115
    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?
  • Fabian. This wins him, liver and all.
  • Malvolio. [Reads] 1120
    Jove knows I love: 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 1125
    thee, Malvolio?
  • Malvolio. [Reads]
    I may command where I adore;
    But silence, like a Lucrece knife, 1130
    With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore:
    M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.
  • Malvolio. 'M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.' Nay, but first, let 1135
    me see, let me see, let me see.
  • Fabian. What dish o' poison has she dressed him!
  • Malvolio. 'I may command where I adore.' Why, she may command
    me: I serve her; she is my lady. Why, this is 1140
    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,— 1145
  • Fabian. Sowter will cry upon't for all this, though it be as
    rank as a fox.
  • Malvolio. M,—Malvolio; M,—why, that begins my name.
  • Fabian. Did not I say he would work it out? the cur is 1150
    excellent at faults.
  • Malvolio. M,—but then there is no consonancy in the sequel;
    that suffers under probation A should follow but O does.
  • Fabian. And O shall end, I hope.
  • Fabian. Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you might see
    more detraction at your heels than fortunes before
    you.
  • Malvolio. M, O, A, I; this simulation is not as the former: and 1160
    yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for
    every one of these letters are in my name. Soft!
    here follows prose.
    [Reads]
    'If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I 1165
    am above thee; but be not afraid of greatness: some
    are born great, some achieve greatness, and some
    have greatness thrust upon 'em. Thy Fates open
    their hands; let thy blood and spirit embrace them;
    and, to inure thyself to what thou art like to be, 1170
    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 1175
    yellow stockings, and wished to see thee ever
    cross-gartered: 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. 1180
    She that would alter services with thee,
    THE FORTUNATE-UNHAPPY.'
    Daylight and champaign 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 1185
    acquaintance, I will be point-devise 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; 1190
    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 1195
    on. Jove and my stars be praised! Here is yet a
    postscript.
    [Reads]
    'Thou canst not choose but know who I am. If thou
    entertainest my love, let it appear in thy smiling; 1200
    thy smiles become thee well; therefore in my
    presence still smile, dear my sweet, I prithee.'
    Jove, I thank thee: I will smile; I will do
    everything that thou wilt have me.

[Exit]

  • Fabian. I will not give my part of this sport for a pension
    of thousands to be paid from the Sophy.
  • Sir Toby Belch. And ask no other dowry with her but such another jest. 1210
  • Fabian. Here comes my noble gull-catcher.

[Re-enter MARIA]

  • Sir Toby Belch. Shall I play my freedom at traytrip, and become thy
    bond-slave?
  • Sir Toby Belch. Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that when
    the image of it leaves him he must run mad. 1220
  • Maria. Nay, but say true; does it work upon him?
  • Maria. 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 1225
    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 1230
    me.
  • Sir Toby Belch. To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit!

[Exeunt]

---
. previous scene      

Act III, Scene 1

OLIVIA’s garden.

      next scene .
---

[Enter VIOLA, and Clown with a tabour]

  • Viola. Save thee, friend, and thy music: dost thou live by
    thy tabour?
  • Feste. No, sir, I live by the church.
  • Viola. Art thou a churchman?
  • Feste. No such matter, sir: I do live by the church; for 1240
    I do live at my house, and my house doth stand by
    the church.
  • Viola. So thou mayst say, the king lies by a beggar, if a
    beggar dwell near him; or, the church stands by thy
    tabour, if thy tabour stand by the church. 1245
  • Feste. You have said, sir. To see this age! A sentence is
    but a cheveril glove to a good wit: how quickly the
    wrong side may be turned outward!
  • Viola. Nay, that's certain; they that dally nicely with
    words may quickly make them wanton. 1250
  • Feste. I would, therefore, my sister had had no name, sir.
  • Feste. 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. 1255
  • Feste. Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words; and
    words are grown so false, I am loath to prove
    reason with them.
  • Viola. I warrant thou art a merry fellow and carest for nothing. 1260
  • Feste. 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.
  • Viola. Art not thou the Lady Olivia's fool?
  • Feste. No, indeed, sir; the Lady Olivia has no folly: she 1265
    will keep no fool, sir, till she be married; and
    fools are as like husbands as pilchards are to
    herrings; the husband's the bigger: I am indeed not
    her fool, but her corrupter of words.
  • Viola. I saw thee late at the Count Orsino's. 1270
  • Feste. 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.
  • Viola. Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee. 1275
    Hold, there's expenses for thee.
  • Feste. Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send thee a beard!
  • Viola. By my troth, I'll tell thee, I am almost sick for
    one;
    [Aside] 1280
    though I would not have it grow on my chin. Is thy
    lady within?
  • Feste. Would not a pair of these have bred, sir?
  • Viola. Yes, being kept together and put to use.
  • Feste. I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia, sir, to bring 1285
    a Cressida to this Troilus.
  • Viola. I understand you, sir; 'tis well begged.
  • Feste. The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, begging but
    a beggar: Cressida was a beggar. My lady is
    within, sir. I will construe to them whence you 1290
    come; who you are and what you would are out of my
    welkin, I might say 'element,' but the word is over-worn.

[Exit]

  • Viola. This fellow is wise enough to play the fool;
    And to do that well craves a kind of wit: 1295
    He must observe their mood on whom he jests,
    The quality of persons, and the time,
    And, like the haggard, cheque at every feather
    That comes before his eye. This is a practise
    As full of labour as a wise man's art 1300
    For folly that he wisely shows is fit;
    But wise men, folly-fall'n, quite taint their wit.

[Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, and SIR ANDREW]

  • Viola. And you, sir. 1305
  • Viola. Et vous aussi; votre serviteur.
  • Sir Toby Belch. Will you encounter the house? my niece is desirous
    you should enter, if your trade be to her. 1310
  • Viola. I am bound to your niece, sir; I mean, she is the
    list of my voyage.
  • Viola. My legs do better understand me, sir, than I
    understand what you mean by bidding me taste my legs. 1315
  • Viola. I will answer you with gait and entrance. But we
    are prevented.
    [Enter OLIVIA and MARIA]
    Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain 1320
    odours on you!
  • Viola. My matter hath no voice, to your own most pregnant
    and vouchsafed ear.
  • Olivia. Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing.
    [Exeunt SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and MARIA]
    Give me your hand, sir.
  • Viola. My duty, madam, and most humble service. 1330
  • Viola. Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess.
  • Olivia. My servant, sir! 'Twas never merry world
    Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment:
    You're servant to the Count Orsino, youth. 1335
  • Viola. And he is yours, and his must needs be yours:
    Your servant's servant is your servant, madam.
  • Olivia. For him, I think not on him: for his thoughts,
    Would they were blanks, rather than fill'd with me!
  • Viola. Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts 1340
    On his behalf.
  • Olivia. O, by your leave, I pray you,
    I bade you never speak again of him:
    But, would you undertake another suit,
    I had rather hear you to solicit that 1345
    Than music from the spheres.
  • Olivia. Give me leave, beseech you. I did send,
    After the last enchantment you did here,
    A ring in chase of you: so did I abuse 1350
    Myself, my servant and, I fear me, you:
    Under your hard construction must I sit,To force that on you, in a shameful cunning,
    Which you knew none of yours: what might you think?
    Have you not set mine honour at the stake
    And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts 1355
    That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiving
    Enough is shown: a cypress, not a bosom,
    Hideth my heart. So, let me hear you speak.
  • Olivia. That's a degree to love. 1360
  • Viola. No, not a grize; for 'tis a vulgar proof,
    That very oft we pity enemies.
  • Olivia. Why, then, methinks 'tis time to smile again.
    O, world, how apt the poor are to be proud!
    If one should be a prey, how much the better 1365
    To fall before the lion than the wolf!
    [Clock strikes]
    The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.
    Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you:
    And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest, 1370
    Your were is alike to reap a proper man:
    There lies your way, due west.
  • Viola. Then westward-ho! Grace and good disposition
    Attend your ladyship!
    You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me? 1375
  • Olivia. Stay:
    I prithee, tell me what thou thinkest of me.
  • Viola. That you do think you are not what you are.
  • Olivia. If I think so, I think the same of you.
  • Viola. Then think you right: I am not what I am. 1380
  • Olivia. I would you were as I would have you be!
  • Viola. Would it be better, madam, than I am?
    I wish it might, for now I am your fool.
  • Olivia. O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
    In the contempt and anger of his lip! 1385
    A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon
    Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon.
    Cesario, by the roses of the spring,
    By maidhood, honour, truth and every thing,
    I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride, 1390
    Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide.
    Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,
    For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause,
    But rather reason thus with reason fetter,
    Love sought is good, but given unsought better. 1395
  • Viola. By innocence I swear, and by my youth
    I have one heart, one bosom and one truth,
    And that no woman has; nor never none
    Shall mistress be of it, save I alone.
    And so adieu, good madam: never more 1400
    Will I my master's tears to you deplore.
  • Olivia. Yet come again; for thou perhaps mayst move
    That heart, which now abhors, to like his love.

[Exeunt]

---
. previous scene      

Act III, Scene 2

OLIVIA’s house.

      next scene .
---

[Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN]

  • Fabian. You must needs yield your reason, Sir Andrew.
  • Sir Andrew Aguecheek. Marry, I saw your niece do more favours to the
    count's serving-man than ever she bestowed upon me; 1410
    I saw't i' the orchard.
  • Fabian. This was a great argument of love in her toward you.
  • Fabian. I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of
    judgment and reason.
  • Sir Toby Belch. And they have been grand-jury-men since before Noah
    was a sailor.
  • Fabian. She did show favour to the youth in your sight only 1420
    to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse valour, to
    put fire in your heart and brimstone in your liver.
    You should then have accosted her; and with some
    excellent jests, fire-new from the mint, you should
    have banged the youth into dumbness. This was 1425
    looked for at your hand, and this was balked: the
    double gilt of this opportunity you let time wash
    off, and you are now sailed into the north of my
    lady's opinion; where you will hang like an icicle
    on a Dutchman's beard, unless you do redeem it by 1430
    some laudable attempt either of valour or policy.
  • Sir Andrew Aguecheek. An't be any way, it must be with valour; for policy
    I hate: I had as lief be a Brownist as a
    politician.
  • Sir Toby Belch. Why, then, build me thy fortunes upon the basis of 1435
    valour. Challenge me the count's youth to fight
    with him; hurt him in eleven places: my niece shall
    take note of it; and assure thyself, there is no
    love-broker in the world can more prevail in man's
    commendation with woman than report of valour. 1440
  • Fabian. There is no way but this, Sir Andrew.
  • Sir Toby Belch. Go, write it in a martial hand; be curst and brief;
    it is no matter how witty, so it be eloquent and fun
    of invention: taunt him with the licence of ink: 1445
    if thou thou'st him some thrice, it shall not be
    amiss; and as many lies as will lie in thy sheet of
    paper, although the sheet were big enough for the
    bed of Ware in England, set 'em down: go, about it.
    Let there be gall enough in thy ink, though thou 1450
    write with a goose-pen, no matter: about it.

[Exit SIR ANDREW]

  • Fabian. This is a dear manikin to you, Sir Toby. 1455
  • Sir Toby Belch. I have been dear to him, lad, some two thousand
    strong, or so.
  • Fabian. We shall have a rare letter from him: but you'll
    not deliver't?
  • Sir Toby Belch. Never trust me, then; and by all means stir on the 1460
    youth to an answer. I think oxen and wainropes
    cannot hale them together. For Andrew, if he were
    opened, and you find so much blood in his liver as
    will clog the foot of a flea, I'll eat the rest of
    the anatomy. 1465
  • Fabian. And his opposite, the youth, bears in his visage no
    great presage of cruelty.

[Enter MARIA]

  • Maria. If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourself 1470
    into stitches, follow me. Yond gull Malvolio is
    turned heathen, a very renegado; for there is no
    Christian, that means to be saved by believing
    rightly, can ever believe such impossible passages
    of grossness. He's in yellow stockings. 1475
  • Maria. Most villanously; like a pedant that keeps a school
    i' the church. I have dogged him, like his
    murderer. He does obey every point of the letter
    that I dropped to betray him: he does smile his 1480
    face into more lines than is in the new map with the
    augmentation of the Indies: you have not seen such
    a thing as 'tis. I can hardly forbear hurling things
    at him. I know my lady will strike him: if she do,
    he'll smile and take't for a great favour. 1485

[Exeunt]

---
. previous scene      

Act III, Scene 3

A street.

      next scene .
---

[Enter SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO]

  • Sebastian. I would not by my will have troubled you;
    But, since you make your pleasure of your pains, 1490
    I will no further chide you.
  • Antonio. I could not stay behind you: my desire,
    More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth;
    And not all love to see you, though so much
    As might have drawn one to a longer voyage, 1495
    But jealousy what might befall your travel,
    Being skilless in these parts; which to a stranger,
    Unguided and unfriended, often prove
    Rough and unhospitable: my willing love,
    The rather by these arguments of fear, 1500
    Set forth in your pursuit.
  • Sebastian. My kind Antonio,
    I can no other answer make but thanks,
    And thanks; and ever thanks; and oft good turns
    Are shuffled off with such uncurrent pay: 1505
    But, were my worth as is my conscience firm,
    You should find better dealing. What's to do?
    Shall we go see the reliques of this town?
  • Antonio. To-morrow, sir: best first go see your lodging.
  • Sebastian. I am not weary, and 'tis long to night: 1510
    I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes
    With the memorials and the things of fame
    That do renown this city.
  • Antonio. Would you'ld pardon me;
    I do not without danger walk these streets: 1515
    Once, in a sea-fight, 'gainst the count his galleys
    I did some service; of such note indeed,
    That were I ta'en here it would scarce be answer'd.
  • Sebastian. Belike you slew great number of his people.
  • Antonio. The offence is not of such a bloody nature; 1520
    Albeit the quality of the time and quarrel
    Might well have given us bloody argument.
    It might have since been answer'd in repaying
    What we took from them; which, for traffic's sake,
    Most of our city did: only myself stood out; 1525
    For which, if I be lapsed in this place,
    I shall pay dear.
  • Antonio. It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here's my purse.
    In the south suburbs, at the Elephant, 1530
    Is best to lodge: I will bespeak our diet,
    Whiles you beguile the time and feed your knowledge
    With viewing of the town: there shall you have me.
  • Antonio. Haply your eye shall light upon some toy 1535
    You have desire to purchase; and your store,
    I think, is not for idle markets, sir.
  • Sebastian. I'll be your purse-bearer and leave you
    For an hour.

[Exeunt]

---
. previous scene      

Act III, Scene 4

OLIVIA’s garden.

      next scene .
---

[Enter OLIVIA and MARIA]

  • Olivia. I have sent after him: he says he'll come;
    How shall I feast him? what bestow of him? 1545
    For youth is bought more oft than begg'd or borrow'd.
    I speak too loud.
    Where is Malvolio? he is sad and civil,
    And suits well for a servant with my fortunes:
    Where is Malvolio? 1550
  • Maria. He's coming, madam; but in very strange manner. He
    is, sure, possessed, madam.
  • Olivia. Why, what's the matter? does he rave?
  • Maria. No. madam, he does nothing but smile: your
    ladyship were best to have some guard about you, if 1555
    he come; for, sure, the man is tainted in's wits.
  • Olivia. Go call him hither.
    [Exit MARIA]
    I am as mad as he,
    If sad and merry madness equal be. 1560
    [Re-enter MARIA, with MALVOLIO]
    How now, Malvolio!
  • Olivia. Smilest thou?
    I sent for thee upon a sad occasion. 1565
  • Malvolio. Sad, lady! I could be sad: this does make some
    obstruction in the blood, this cross-gartering; but
    what of that? if it please the eye of one, it is
    with me as the very true sonnet is, 'Please one, and
    please all.' 1570
  • Olivia. Why, how dost thou, man? what is the matter with thee?
  • Malvolio. Not black in my mind, though yellow in my legs. It
    did come to his hands, and commands shall be
    executed: I think we do know the sweet Roman hand.
  • Olivia. Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio? 1575
  • Malvolio. To bed! ay, sweet-heart, and I'll come to thee.
  • Olivia. God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so and kiss
    thy hand so oft?
  • Maria. How do you, Malvolio?
  • Malvolio. At your request! yes; nightingales answer daws. 1580
  • Maria. Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady?
  • Malvolio. 'Be not afraid of greatness:' 'twas well writ.
  • Olivia. What meanest thou by that, Malvolio?
  • Malvolio. 'And some have greatness thrust upon them.'
  • Malvolio. 'Remember who commended thy yellow stockings,'— 1590
  • Olivia. Thy yellow stockings!
  • Malvolio. 'And wished to see thee cross-gartered.'
  • Malvolio. 'Go to thou art made, if thou desirest to be so;'—
  • Malvolio. 'If not, let me see thee a servant still.'
  • Olivia. Why, this is very midsummer madness.

[Enter Servant]

  • Servant. Madam, the young gentleman of the Count Orsino's is
    returned: I could hardly entreat him back: he 1600
    attends your ladyship's pleasure.
  • Olivia. I'll come to him.
    [Exit Servant]
    Good Maria, let this fellow be looked to. Where's
    my cousin Toby? Let some of my people have a special 1605
    care of him: I would not have him miscarry for the
    half of my dowry.

[Exeunt OLIVIA and MARIA]

  • Malvolio. O, ho! do you come near me now? no worse man than
    Sir Toby to look to me! This concurs directly with 1610
    the letter: she sends him on purpose, that I may
    appear stubborn to him; for she incites me to that
    in the letter. 'Cast thy humble slough,' says she;
    'be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants;
    let thy tongue tang with arguments of state; put 1615
    thyself into the trick of singularity;' and
    consequently sets down the manner how; as, a sad
    face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in the
    habit of some sir of note, and so forth. I have
    limed her; but it is Jove's doing, and Jove make me 1620
    thankful! And when she went away now, 'Let this
    fellow be looked to:' fellow! not Malvolio, nor
    after my degree, but fellow. Why, every thing
    adheres together, that no dram of a scruple, no
    scruple of a scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous 1625
    or unsafe circumstance—What can be said? Nothing
    that can be can come between me and the full
    prospect of my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the
    doer of this, and he is to be thanked.

[Re-enter MARIA, with SIR TOBY BELCH and FABIAN]

  • Sir Toby Belch. Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all
    the devils of hell be drawn in little, and Legion
    himself possessed him, yet I'll speak to him.
  • Fabian. Here he is, here he is. How is't with you, sir?
    how is't with you, man? 1635
  • Malvolio. Go off; I discard you: let me enjoy my private: go
    off.
  • Maria. Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did not
    I tell you? Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a
    care of him. 1640
  • Sir Toby Belch. Go to, go to; peace, peace; we must deal gently
    with him: let me alone. How do you, Malvolio? how
    is't with you? What, man! defy the devil:
    consider, he's an enemy to mankind. 1645
  • Maria. La you, an you speak ill of the devil, how he takes
    it at heart! Pray God, he be not bewitched!
  • Fabian. Carry his water to the wise woman.
  • Maria. Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning, if I 1650
    live. My lady would not lose him for more than I'll say.
  • Sir Toby Belch. Prithee, hold thy peace; this is not the way: do
    you not see you move him? let me alone with him. 1655
  • Fabian. No way but gentleness; gently, gently: the fiend is
    rough, and will not be roughly used.
  • Sir Toby Belch. Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, man! 'tis not for 1660
    gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan: hang
    him, foul collier!
  • Maria. Get him to say his prayers, good Sir Toby, get him to pray.
  • Maria. No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godliness. 1665
  • Malvolio. Go, hang yourselves all! you are idle shallow
    things: I am not of your element: you shall know
    more hereafter.

[Exit]

  • Fabian. If this were played upon a stage now, I could
    condemn it as an improbable fiction.
  • Sir Toby Belch. His very genius hath taken the infection of the device, man.
  • Maria. Nay, pursue him now, lest the device take air and taint.
  • Fabian. Why, we shall make him mad indeed. 1675
  • Maria. The house will be the quieter.
  • Sir Toby Belch. Come, we'll have him in a dark room and bound. My
    niece is already in the belief that he's mad: we
    may carry it thus, for our pleasure and his penance,
    till our very pastime, tired out of breath, prompt 1680
    us to have mercy on him: at which time we will
    bring the device to the bar and crown thee for a
    finder of madmen. But see, but see.

[Enter SIR ANDREW]

  • Fabian. More matter for a May morning. 1685
  • Sir Toby Belch. Give me. 1690
    [Reads]
    'Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art but a scurvy fellow.'
  • Sir Toby Belch. [Reads] 'Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind,
    why I do call thee so, for I will show thee no reason for't.' 1695
  • Fabian. A good note; that keeps you from the blow of the law.
  • Sir Toby Belch. [Reads] 'Thou comest to the lady Olivia, and in my
    sight she uses thee kindly: but thou liest in thy
    throat; that is not the matter I challenge thee for.'
  • Fabian. Very brief, and to exceeding good sense—less. 1700
  • Sir Toby Belch. [Reads] 'I will waylay thee going home; where if it
    be thy chance to kill me,'—
  • Sir Toby Belch. [Reads] 'Thou killest me like a rogue and a villain.'
  • Fabian. Still you keep o' the windy side of the law: good. 1705
  • Sir Toby Belch. [Reads] 'Fare thee well; and God have mercy upon
    one of our souls! He may have mercy upon mine; but
    my hope is better, and so look to thyself. Thy
    friend, as thou usest him, and thy sworn enemy,
    ANDREW AGUECHEEK. 1710
    If this letter move him not, his legs cannot:
    I'll give't him.
  • Maria. You may have very fit occasion for't: he is now in
    some commerce with my lady, and will by and by depart.
  • Sir Toby Belch. Go, Sir Andrew: scout me for him at the corner the 1715
    orchard like a bum-baily: so soon as ever thou seest
    him, draw; and, as thou drawest swear horrible; for
    it comes to pass oft that a terrible oath, with a
    swaggering accent sharply twanged off, gives manhood
    more approbation than ever proof itself would have 1720
    earned him. Away!

[Exit]

  • Sir Toby Belch. Now will not I deliver his letter: for the behavior
    of the young gentleman gives him out to be of good 1725
    capacity and breeding; his employment between his
    lord and my niece confirms no less: therefore this
    letter, being so excellently ignorant, will breed no
    terror in the youth: he will find it comes from a
    clodpole. But, sir, I will deliver his challenge by 1730
    word of mouth; set upon Aguecheek a notable report
    of valour; and drive the gentleman, as I know his
    youth will aptly receive it, into a most hideous
    opinion of his rage, skill, fury and impetuosity.
    This will so fright them both that they will kill 1735
    one another by the look, like cockatrices.

[Re-enter OLIVIA, with VIOLA]

  • Fabian. Here he comes with your niece: give them way till
    he take leave, and presently after him.
  • Sir Toby Belch. I will meditate the while upon some horrid message 1740
    for a challenge.

[Exeunt SIR TOBY BELCH, FABIAN, and MARIA]

  • Olivia. I have said too much unto a heart of stone
    And laid mine honour too unchary out:
    There's something in me that reproves my fault; 1745
    But such a headstrong potent fault it is,
    That it but mocks reproof.
  • Viola. With the same 'havior that your passion bears
    Goes on my master's grief.
  • Olivia. Here, wear this jewel for me, 'tis my picture; 1750
    Refuse it not; it hath no tongue to vex you;
    And I beseech you come again to-morrow.
    What shall you ask of me that I'll deny,
    That honour saved may upon asking give?
  • Viola. Nothing but this; your true love for my master. 1755
  • Olivia. How with mine honour may I give him that
    Which I have given to you?
  • Viola. I will acquit you.
  • Olivia. Well, come again to-morrow: fare thee well:
    A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell. 1760

[Exit]

[Re-enter SIR TOBY BELCH and FABIAN]

  • Sir Toby Belch. That defence thou hast, betake thee to't: of what 1765
    nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know
    not; but thy intercepter, full of despite, bloody as
    the hunter, attends thee at the orchard-end:
    dismount thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation, for
    thy assailant is quick, skilful and deadly. 1770
  • Viola. You mistake, sir; I am sure no man hath any quarrel
    to me: my remembrance is very free and clear from
    any image of offence done to any man.
  • Sir Toby Belch. You'll find it otherwise, I assure you: therefore,
    if you hold your life at any price, betake you to 1775
    your guard; for your opposite hath in him what
    youth, strength, skill and wrath can furnish man withal.
  • Viola. I pray you, sir, what is he?
  • Sir Toby Belch. He is knight, dubbed with unhatched rapier and on
    carpet consideration; but he is a devil in private 1780
    brawl: souls and bodies hath he divorced three; and
    his incensement at this moment is so implacable,
    that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death
    and sepulchre. Hob, nob, is his word; give't or take't.
  • Viola. I will return again into the house and desire some 1785
    conduct of the lady. I am no fighter. I have heard
    of some kind of men that put quarrels purposely on
    others, to taste their valour: belike this is a man
    of that quirk.
  • Sir Toby Belch. Sir, no; his indignation derives itself out of a 1790
    very competent injury: therefore, get you on and
    give him his desire. Back you shall not to the
    house, unless you undertake that with me which with
    as much safety you might answer him: therefore, on,
    or strip your sword stark naked; for meddle you 1795
    must, that's certain, or forswear to wear iron about you.
  • Viola. This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you, do me
    this courteous office, as to know of the knight what
    my offence to him is: it is something of my
    negligence, nothing of my purpose. 1800
  • Sir Toby Belch. I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by this
    gentleman till my return.

[Exit]

  • Viola. Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter?
  • Fabian. I know the knight is incensed against you, even to a 1805
    mortal arbitrement; but nothing of the circumstance more.
  • Viola. I beseech you, what manner of man is he?
  • Fabian. Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read him by
    his form, as you are like to find him in the proof
    of his valour. He is, indeed, sir, the most skilful, 1810
    bloody and fatal opposite that you could possibly
    have found in any part of Illyria. Will you walk
    towards him? I will make your peace with him if I
    can.
  • Viola. I shall be much bound to you for't: I am one that 1815
    had rather go with sir priest than sir knight: I
    care not who knows so much of my mettle.

[Exeunt]

[Re-enter SIR TOBY BELCH, with SIR ANDREW]

  • Sir Toby Belch. Why, man, he's a very devil; I have not seen such a 1820
    firago. I had a pass with him, rapier, scabbard and
    all, and he gives me the stuck in with such a mortal
    motion, that it is inevitable; and on the answer, he
    pays you as surely as your feet hit the ground they
    step on. They say he has been fencer to the Sophy. 1825
  • Sir Toby Belch. Ay, but he will not now be pacified: Fabian can
    scarce hold him yonder.
  • Sir Andrew Aguecheek. Plague on't, an I thought he had been valiant and so
    cunning in fence, I'ld have seen him damned ere I'ld 1830
    have challenged him. Let him let the matter slip,
    and I'll give him my horse, grey Capilet.
  • Sir Toby Belch. I'll make the motion: stand here, make a good show
    on't: this shall end without the perdition of souls.
    [Aside] 1835
    Marry, I'll ride your horse as well as I ride you.
    [Re-enter FABIAN and VIOLA]
    [To FABIAN]
    I have his horse to take up the quarrel:
    I have persuaded him the youth's a devil. 1840
  • Fabian. He is as horribly conceited of him; and pants and
    looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels.
  • Sir Toby Belch. [To VIOLA] There's no remedy, sir; he will fight
    with you for's oath sake: marry, he hath better
    bethought him of his quarrel, and he finds that now 1845
    scarce to be worth talking of: therefore draw, for
    the supportance of his vow; he protests he will not hurt you.
  • Viola. [Aside] Pray God defend me! A little thing would
    make me tell them how much I lack of a man.
  • Fabian. Give ground, if you see him furious. 1850
  • Sir Toby Belch. Come, Sir Andrew, there's no remedy; the gentleman
    will, for his honour's sake, have one bout with you;
    he cannot by the duello avoid it: but he has
    promised me, as he is a gentleman and a soldier, he
    will not hurt you. Come on; to't. 1855
  • Viola. I do assure you, 'tis against my will.

[They draw]

[Enter ANTONIO]

  • Antonio. Put up your sword. If this young gentleman 1860
    Have done offence, I take the fault on me:
    If you offend him, I for him defy you.
  • Antonio. One, sir, that for his love dares yet do more
    Than you have heard him brag to you he will. 1865

[They draw]

[Enter Officers]

  • Fabian. O good Sir Toby, hold! here come the officers.
  • Viola. Pray, sir, put your sword up, if you please.
  • Sir Andrew Aguecheek. Marry, will I, sir; and, for that I promised you,
    I'll be as good as my word: he will bear you easily
    and reins well.
  • First Officer. No, sir, no jot; I know your favour well,
    Though now you have no sea-cap on your head.
    Take him away: he knows I know him well. 1880
  • Antonio. I must obey.
    [To VIOLA]
    This comes with seeking you:
    But there's no remedy; I shall answer it.
    What will you do, now my necessity 1885
    Makes me to ask you for my purse? It grieves me
    Much more for what I cannot do for you
    Than what befalls myself. You stand amazed;
    But be of comfort.
  • Antonio. I must entreat of you some of that money.
  • Viola. What money, sir?
    For the fair kindness you have show'd me here,
    And, part, being prompted by your present trouble,
    Out of my lean and low ability 1895
    I'll lend you something: my having is not much;
    I'll make division of my present with you:
    Hold, there's half my coffer.
  • Antonio. Will you deny me now?
    Is't possible that my deserts to you 1900
    Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery,
    Lest that it make me so unsound a man
    As to upbraid you with those kindnesses
    That I have done for you.
  • Viola. I know of none; 1905
    Nor know I you by voice or any feature:
    I hate ingratitude more in a man
    Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness,
    Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption
    Inhabits our frail blood. 1910
  • Antonio. Let me speak a little. This youth that you see here
    I snatch'd one half out of the jaws of death,
    Relieved him with such sanctity of love, 1915
    And to his image, which methought did promise
    Most venerable worth, did I devotion.
  • Antonio. But O how vile an idol proves this god
    Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame. 1920
    In nature there's no blemish but the mind;
    None can be call'd deform'd but the unkind:
    Virtue is beauty, but the beauteous evil
    Are empty trunks o'erflourish'd by the devil.
  • First Officer. The man grows mad: away with him! Come, come, sir. 1925

[Exit with Officers]

  • Viola. Methinks his words do from such passion fly,
    That he believes himself: so do not I.
    Prove true, imagination, O, prove true, 1930
    That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you!
  • Sir Toby Belch. Come hither, knight; come hither, Fabian: we'll
    whisper o'er a couplet or two of most sage saws.
  • Viola. He named Sebastian: I my brother know
    Yet living in my glass; even such and so 1935
    In favour was my brother, and he went
    Still in this fashion, colour, ornament,
    For him I imitate: O, if it prove,
    Tempests are kind and salt waves fresh in love.

[Exit]

  • Sir Toby Belch. A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward than
    a hare: his dishonesty appears in leaving his
    friend here in necessity and denying him; and for
    his cowardship, ask Fabian.
  • Fabian. A coward, a most devout coward, religious in it. 1945
  • Fabian. Come, let's see the event.

[Exeunt]

---
. previous scene      

Act IV, Scene 1

Before OLIVIA’s house.

      next scene .
---

[Enter SEBASTIAN and Clown]

  • Feste. Will you make me believe that I am not sent for you?
  • Sebastian. Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow:
    Let me be clear of thee. 1955
  • Feste. Well held out, i' faith! No, I do not know you; nor
    I am not sent to you by my lady, to bid you come
    speak with her; nor your name is not Master Cesario;
    nor this is not my nose neither. Nothing that is so is so.
  • Sebastian. I prithee, vent thy folly somewhere else: Thou 1960
    know'st not me.
  • Feste. Vent my folly! he has heard that word of some
    great man and now applies it to a fool. Vent my
    folly! I am afraid this great lubber, the world,
    will prove a cockney. I prithee now, ungird thy 1965
    strangeness and tell me what I shall vent to my
    lady: shall I vent to her that thou art coming?
  • Sebastian. I prithee, foolish Greek, depart from me: There's
    money for thee: if you tarry longer, I shall give
    worse payment. 1970
  • Feste. By my troth, thou hast an open hand. These wise men
    that give fools money get themselves a good
    report—after fourteen years' purchase.

[Enter SIR ANDREW, SIR TOBY BELCH, and FABIAN]

  • Sebastian. Why, there's for thee, and there, and there. Are all
    the people mad?
  • Feste. This will I tell my lady straight: I would not be
    in some of your coats for two pence. 1980

[Exit]

  • Sir Andrew Aguecheek. Nay, let him alone: I'll go another way to work
    with him; I'll have an action of battery against
    him, if there be any law in Illyria: though I 1985
    struck him first, yet it's no matter for that.
  • Sir Toby Belch. Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young
    soldier, put up your iron: you are well fleshed; come on.
  • Sebastian. I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou now? If 1990
    thou darest tempt me further, draw thy sword.
  • Sir Toby Belch. What, what? Nay, then I must have an ounce or two
    of this malapert blood from you.

[Enter OLIVIA]

  • Olivia. Hold, Toby; on thy life I charge thee, hold! 1995
  • Olivia. Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch,
    Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves,
    Where manners ne'er were preach'd! out of my sight!
    Be not offended, dear Cesario. 2000
    Rudesby, be gone!
    [Exeunt SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN]
    I prithee, gentle friend,
    Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway
    In this uncivil and thou unjust extent 2005
    Against thy peace. Go with me to my house,
    And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks
    This ruffian hath botch'd up, that thou thereby
    Mayst smile at this: thou shalt not choose but go:
    Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me, 2010
    He started one poor heart of mine in thee.
  • Sebastian. What relish is in this? how runs the stream?
    Or I am mad, or else this is a dream:
    Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;
    If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep! 2015
  • Olivia. Nay, come, I prithee; would thou'ldst be ruled by me!
  • Olivia. O, say so, and so be!

[Exeunt]

---
. previous scene      

Act IV, Scene 2

OLIVIA’s house.

      next scene .
---

[Enter MARIA and Clown]

  • Maria. Nay, I prithee, put on this gown and this beard;
    make him believe thou art Sir Topas the curate: do
    it quickly; I'll call Sir Toby the whilst.

[Exit]

  • Feste. Well, I'll put it on, and I will dissemble myself 2025
    in't; and I would I were the first that ever
    dissembled in such a gown. I am not tall enough to
    become the function well, nor lean enough to be
    thought a good student; but to be said an honest man
    and a good housekeeper goes as fairly as to say a 2030
    careful man and a great scholar. The competitors enter.

[Enter SIR TOBY BELCH and MARIA]

  • Feste. Bonos dies, Sir Toby: for, as the old hermit of
    Prague, that never saw pen and ink, very wittily 2035
    said to a niece of King Gorboduc, 'That that is is;'
    so I, being Master Parson, am Master Parson; for,
    what is 'that' but 'that,' and 'is' but 'is'?
  • Feste. What, ho, I say! peace in this prison! 2040
  • Feste. Sir Topas the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio
    the lunatic.
  • Malvolio. Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to my lady. 2045
  • Feste. Out, hyperbolical fiend! how vexest thou this man!
    talkest thou nothing but of ladies?
  • Malvolio. Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged: good Sir
    Topas, do not think I am mad: they have laid me 2050
    here in hideous darkness.
  • Feste. Fie, thou dishonest Satan! I call thee by the most
    modest terms; for I am one of those gentle ones
    that will use the devil himself with courtesy:
    sayest thou that house is dark? 2055
  • Feste. Why it hath bay windows transparent as barricadoes,
    and the clearstores toward the south north are as
    lustrous as ebony; and yet complainest thou of
    obstruction? 2060
  • Malvolio. I am not mad, Sir Topas: I say to you, this house is dark.
  • Feste. Madman, thou errest: I say, there is no darkness
    but ignorance; in which thou art more puzzled than
    the Egyptians in their fog.
  • Malvolio. I say, this house is as dark as ignorance, though 2065
    ignorance were as dark as hell; and I say, there
    was never man thus abused. I am no more mad than you
    are: make the trial of it in any constant question.
  • Feste. What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild fowl?
  • Malvolio. That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird. 2070
  • Feste. What thinkest thou of his opinion?
  • Malvolio. I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his opinion.
  • Feste. 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 2075
    thou dispossess the soul of thy grandam. Fare thee well.
  • Feste. Nay, I am for all waters.
  • Maria. Thou mightst have done this without thy beard and 2080
    gown: he sees thee not.
  • Sir Toby Belch. To him in thine own voice, and bring me word how
    thou findest him: I would we were well rid of this
    knavery. If he may be conveniently delivered, I
    would he were, for I am now so far in offence with 2085
    my niece that I cannot pursue with any safety this
    sport to the upshot. Come by and by to my chamber.

[Exeunt SIR TOBY BELCH and MARIA]

  • Feste. [Singing]
    'Hey, Robin, jolly Robin, 2090
    Tell me how thy lady does.'
  • Feste. 'My lady is unkind, perdy.'
  • Feste. 'Alas, why is she so?' 2095
  • Feste. 'She loves another'—Who calls, ha?
  • Malvolio. Good fool, as ever thou wilt deserve well at my
    hand, help me to a candle, and pen, ink and paper:
    as I am a gentleman, I will live to be thankful to 2100
    thee for't.
  • Feste. Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits?
  • Malvolio. Fool, there was never a man so notoriously abused: I 2105
    am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art.
  • Feste. But as well? then you are mad indeed, if you be no
    better in your wits than a fool.
  • Malvolio. They have here propertied me; keep me in darkness,
    send ministers to me, asses, and do all they can to 2110
    face me out of my wits.
  • Feste. 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. 2115
  • Feste. Maintain no words with him, good fellow. Who, I,
    sir? not I, sir. God be wi' you, good Sir Topas.
    Merry, amen. I will, sir, I will.
  • Feste. Alas, sir, be patient. What say you sir? I am
    shent for speaking to you.
  • Malvolio. Good fool, help me to some light and some paper: I
    tell thee, I am as well in my wits as any man in Illyria.
  • Feste. Well-a-day that you were, sir 2125
  • Malvolio. By this hand, I am. Good fool, some ink, paper and
    light; and convey what I will set down to my lady:
    it shall advantage thee more than ever the bearing
    of letter did.
  • Feste. I will help you to't. But tell me true, are you 2130
    not mad indeed? or do you but counterfeit?
  • Malvolio. Believe me, I am not; I tell thee true.
  • Feste. Nay, I'll ne'er believe a madman till I see his
    brains. I will fetch you light and paper and ink.
  • Malvolio. Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree: I 2135
    prithee, be gone.
  • Feste. [Singing]
    I am gone, sir,
    And anon, sir,
    I'll be with you again, 2140
    In a trice,
    Like to the old Vice,
    Your need to sustain;
    Who, with dagger of lath,
    In his rage and his wrath, 2145
    Cries, ah, ha! to the devil:
    Like a mad lad,
    Pare thy nails, dad;
    Adieu, good man devil.

[Exit]

---
. previous scene      

Act IV, Scene 3

OLIVIA’s garden.

      next scene .
---

[Enter SEBASTIAN]

  • Sebastian. This is the air; that is the glorious sun;
    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? 2155
    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.
    His counsel now might do me golden service;
    For though my soul disputes well with my sense, 2160
    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 2165
    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 followers,
    Take and give back affairs and their dispatch
    With such a smooth, discreet and stable bearing 2170
    As I perceive she does: there's something in't
    That is deceiveable. But here the lady comes.

[Enter OLIVIA and Priest]

  • Olivia. Blame not this haste of mine. If you mean well,
    Now go with me and with this holy man 2175
    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 2180
    Whiles you are willing it shall come to note,
    What time we will our celebration keep
    According to my birth. What do you say?
  • Sebastian. I'll follow this good man, and go with you;
    And, having sworn truth, ever will be true. 2185
  • Olivia. Then lead the way, good father; and heavens so shine,
    That they may fairly note this act of mine!

[Exeunt]

---
. previous scene      

Act V, Scene 1

Before OLIVIA’s house.

       
---

[Enter Clown and FABIAN]

  • Fabian. Now, as thou lovest me, let me see his letter. 2190
  • Feste. Good Master Fabian, grant me another request.
  • Feste. Do not desire to see this letter.
  • Fabian. This is, to give a dog, and in recompense desire my
    dog again. 2195

[Enter DUKE ORSINO, VIOLA, CURIO, and Lords]

  • Orsino. Belong you to the Lady Olivia, friends?
  • Feste. Ay, sir; we are some of her trappings.
  • Orsino. I know thee well; how dost thou, my good fellow?
  • Feste. Truly, sir, the better for my foes and the worse 2200
    for my friends.
  • Orsino. Just the contrary; the better for thy friends.
  • Feste. No, sir, the worse.
  • Feste. Marry, sir, they praise me and make an ass of me; 2205
    now my foes tell me plainly I am an ass: so that by
    my foes, sir I profit in the knowledge of myself,
    and by my friends, I am abused: so that,
    conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives
    make your two affirmatives why then, the worse for 2210
    my friends and the better for my foes.
  • Orsino. Why, this is excellent.
  • Feste. By my troth, sir, no; though it please you to be
    one of my friends.
  • Orsino. Thou shalt not be the worse for me: there's gold. 2215
  • Feste. But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I would
    you could make it another.
  • Orsino. O, you give me ill counsel.
  • Feste. Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this once,
    and let your flesh and blood obey it. 2220
  • Orsino. Well, I will be so much a sinner, to be a
    double-dealer: there's another.
  • Feste. 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 2225
    Saint Bennet, sir, may put you in mind; one, two, three.
  • Orsino. 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. 2230
  • Feste. 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. 2235

[Exit]

  • Viola. Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me.

[Enter ANTONIO and Officers]

  • Orsino. That face of his I do remember well;
    Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmear'd 2240
    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, 2245
    That very envy and the tongue of loss
    Cried fame and honour on him. What's the matter?
  • First Officer. Orsino, this is that Antonio
    That took the Phoenix and her fraught from Candy;
    And this is he that did the Tiger board, 2250
    When your young nephew Titus lost his leg:
    Here in the streets, desperate of shame and state,
    In private brabble did we apprehend him.
  • Viola. He did me kindness, sir, drew on my side;
    But in conclusion put strange speech upon me: 2255
    I know not what 'twas but distraction.
  • Orsino. Notable pirate! thou salt-water thief!
    What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies,
    Whom thou, in terms so bloody and so dear,
    Hast made thine enemies? 2260
  • Antonio. Orsino, noble sir,
    Be pleased that I shake off these names you give me:
    Antonio never yet was thief or pirate,
    Though I confess, on base and ground enough,
    Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither: 2265
    That most ingrateful boy there by your side,
    From the rude sea's enraged and foamy mouth
    Did I redeem; a wreck past hope he was:
    His life I gave him and did thereto add
    My love, without retention or restraint, 2270
    All his in dedication; for his sake
    Did I expose myself, pure for his love,
    Into the danger of this adverse town;
    Drew to defend him when he was beset:
    Where being apprehended, his false cunning, 2275
    Not meaning to partake with me in danger,
    Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,
    And grew a twenty years removed thing
    While one would wink; denied me mine own purse,
    Which I had recommended to his use 2280
    Not half an hour before.
  • Orsino. When came he to this town?
  • Antonio. To-day, my lord; and for three months before,
    No interim, not a minute's vacancy, 2285
    Both day and night did we keep company.

[Enter OLIVIA and Attendants]

  • Orsino. 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; 2290
    But more of that anon. Take him aside.
  • Olivia. What would my lord, but that he may not have,
    Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?
    Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.
  • Olivia. What do you say, Cesario? Good my lord,—
  • Viola. My lord would speak; my duty hushes me.
  • Olivia. If it be aught to the old tune, my lord,
    It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear 2300
    As howling after music.
  • Olivia. Still so constant, lord.
  • Orsino. What, to perverseness? you uncivil lady,
    To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars 2305
    My soul the faithfull'st offerings hath breathed out
    That e'er devotion tender'd! What shall I do?
  • Olivia. Even what it please my lord, that shall become him.
  • Orsino. Why should I not, had I the heart to do it,
    Like to the Egyptian thief at point of death, 2310
    Kill what I love?—a savage jealousy
    That sometimes savours nobly. But hear me this:
    Since you to non-regardance cast my faith,
    And that I partly know the instrument
    That screws me from my true place in your favour, 2315
    Live you the marble-breasted tyrant still;
    But this your minion, whom I know you love,
    And whom, by heaven I swear, I tender dearly,
    Him will I tear out of that cruel eye,
    Where he sits crowned in his master's spite. 2320
    Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mischief:
    I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love,
    To spite a raven's heart within a dove.
  • Viola. And I, most jocund, apt and willingly,
    To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die. 2325
  • Viola. After him I love
    More than I love these eyes, more than my life,
    More, by all mores, than e'er I shall love wife.
    If I do feign, you witnesses above 2330
    Punish my life for tainting of my love!
  • Olivia. Ay me, detested! how am I beguiled!
  • Viola. Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong?
  • Olivia. Hast thou forgot thyself? is it so long?
    Call forth the holy father. 2335
  • Olivia. Whither, my lord? Cesario, husband, stay.
  • Olivia. Ay, husband: can he that deny?
  • Orsino. Her husband, sirrah! 2340
  • Viola. No, my lord, not I.
  • Olivia. Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear
    That makes thee strangle thy propriety:
    Fear not, Cesario; take thy fortunes up;
    Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art 2345
    As great as that thou fear'st.
    [Enter Priest]
    O, welcome, father!
    Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence,
    Here to unfold, though lately we intended 2350
    To keep in darkness what occasion now
    Reveals before 'tis ripe, what thou dost know
    Hath newly pass'd between this youth and me.
  • Priest. A contract of eternal bond of love,
    Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands, 2355
    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 grave 2360
    I have travell'd but two hours.
  • Orsino. O thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be
    When time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy case?
    Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow,
    That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow? 2365
    Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feet
    Where thou and I henceforth may never meet.
  • Viola. My lord, I do protest—
  • Olivia. O, do not swear!
    Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear. 2370

[Enter SIR ANDREW]

  • Sir Andrew Aguecheek. He has broke my head across and has given Sir Toby 2375
    a bloody coxcomb too: for the love of God, your
    help! I had rather than forty pound I were at home.
  • Olivia. Who has done this, Sir Andrew?
  • Sir Andrew Aguecheek. The count's gentleman, one Cesario: we took him for
    a coward, but he's the very devil incardinate. 2380
  • Orsino. My gentleman, Cesario?
  • Sir Andrew Aguecheek. 'Od's lifelings, here he is! You broke my head for
    nothing; and that that I did, I was set on to do't
    by Sir Toby.
  • Viola. Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you: 2385
    You drew your sword upon me without cause;
    But I bespoke you fair, and hurt you not.
  • Sir Andrew Aguecheek. If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me: I
    think you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb.
    [Enter SIR TOBY BELCH and Clown] 2390
    Here comes Sir Toby halting; you shall hear more:
    but if he had not been in drink, he would have
    tickled you othergates than he did.
  • Orsino. How now, gentleman! how is't with you?
  • Sir Toby Belch. That's all one: has hurt me, and there's the end 2395
    on't. Sot, didst see Dick surgeon, sot?
  • Feste. O, he's drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyes
    were set at eight i' the morning.
  • Sir Toby Belch. Then he's a rogue, and a passy measures panyn: I
    hate a drunken rogue. 2400
  • Olivia. Away with him! Who hath made this havoc with them?
  • Sir Toby Belch. Will you help? an ass-head and a coxcomb and a
    knave, a thin-faced knave, a gull!
  • Olivia. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to. 2405

[Exeunt Clown, FABIAN, SIR TOBY BELCH, and SIR ANDREW]

[Enter SEBASTIAN]

  • Sebastian. I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kinsman:
    But, had it been the brother of my blood,
    I must have done no less with wit and safety. 2410
    You throw a strange regard upon me, and by that
    I do perceive it hath offended you:
    Pardon me, sweet one, even for the vows
    We made each other but so late ago.
  • Orsino. One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons, 2415
    A natural perspective, that is and is not!
  • Sebastian. Antonio, O my dear Antonio!
    How have the hours rack'd and tortured me,
    Since I have lost thee!
  • Antonio. How have you made division of yourself?
    An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin
    Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian?
  • Sebastian. Do I stand there? I never had a brother;
    Nor can there be that deity in my nature,
    Of here and every where. I had a sister,
    Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd.
    Of charity, what kin are you to me? 2430
    What countryman? what name? what parentage?
  • Viola. Of Messaline: Sebastian was my father;
    Such a Sebastian was my brother too,
    So went he suited to his watery tomb:
    If spirits can assume both form and suit 2435
    You come to fright us.
  • Sebastian. A spirit I am indeed;
    But am in that dimension grossly clad
    Which from the womb I did participate.
    Were you a woman, as the rest goes even, 2440
    I should my tears let fall upon your cheek,
    And say 'Thrice-welcome, drowned Viola!'
  • Viola. My father had a mole upon his brow.
  • Viola. And died that day when Viola from her birth 2445
    Had number'd thirteen years.
  • Sebastian. O, that record is lively in my soul!
    He finished indeed his mortal act
    That day that made my sister thirteen years.
  • Viola. If nothing lets to make us happy both 2450
    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, 2455
    Where lie my maiden weeds; by whose gentle help
    I was preserved to serve this noble count.
    All the occurrence of my fortune since
    Hath been between this lady and this lord.
  • Sebastian. [To OLIVIA] So comes it, lady, you have been mistook: 2460
    But nature to her bias drew in that.
    You would have been contracted to a maid;
    Nor are you therein, by my life, deceived,
    You are betroth'd both to a maid and man.
  • Orsino. Be not amazed; right noble is his blood. 2465
    If this be so, as yet the glass seems true,
    I shall have share in this most happy wreck.
    [To VIOLA]
    Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times
    Thou never shouldst love woman like to me. 2470
  • Viola. And all those sayings will I overswear;
    And those swearings keep as true in soul
    As doth that orbed continent the fire
    That severs day from night.
  • Orsino. Give me thy hand; 2475
    And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds.
  • Viola. 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. 2480
  • Olivia. 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, and FABIAN]
    A most extracting frenzy of mine own 2485
    From my remembrance clearly banish'd his.
    How does he, sirrah?
  • Feste. Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the staves's end as
    well as a man in his case may do: has here writ a
    letter to you; I should have given't you to-day 2490
    morning, but as a madman's epistles are no gospels,
    so it skills not much when they are delivered.
  • Feste. Look then to be well edified when the fool delivers
    the madman. 2495
    [Reads]
    'By the Lord, madam,'—
  • Olivia. How now! art thou mad?
  • Feste. No, madam, I do but read madness: an your ladyship
    will have it as it ought to be, you must allow Vox. 2500
  • Olivia. Prithee, read i' thy right wits.
  • Feste. So I do, madonna; but to read his right wits is to
    read thus: therefore perpend, my princess, and give ear.

[To FABIAN]

  • Fabian. [Reads] 'By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and the
    world shall know it: though you have put me into
    darkness and given your drunken cousin rule over
    me, yet have I the benefit of my senses as well as
    your ladyship. I have your own letter that induced 2510
    me to the semblance I put on; with the which I doubt
    not but to do myself much right, or you much shame.
    Think of me as you please. I leave my duty a little
    unthought of and speak out of my injury.
    THE MADLY-USED MALVOLIO.' 2515
  • Orsino. This savours not much of distraction.
  • Olivia. See him deliver'd, Fabian; bring him hither.
    [Exit FABIAN] 2520
    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. 2525
  • Orsino. Madam, I am most apt to embrace your offer.
    [To VIOLA]
    Your master quits you; and for your service done him,
    So much against the mettle of your sex,
    So far beneath your soft and tender breeding, 2530
    And since you call'd me master for so long,
    Here is my hand: you shall from this time be
    Your master's mistress.
  • Olivia. A sister! you are she.

[Re-enter FABIAN, with MALVOLIO]

  • Olivia. Ay, my lord, this same.
    How now, Malvolio!
  • Malvolio. Madam, you have done me wrong,
    Notorious wrong. 2540
  • Olivia. Have I, Malvolio? no.
  • Malvolio. 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: 2545
    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 2550
    Upon Sir Toby and the lighter 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 2555
    That e'er invention play'd on? tell me why.
  • Olivia. 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 2560
    First told me thou wast mad; then camest in smiling,
    And in such forms which here were presupposed
    Upon thee in the letter. Prithee, be content:
    This practise hath most shrewdly pass'd upon thee;
    But when we know the grounds and authors of it, 2565
    Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge
    Of thine own cause.
  • Fabian. Good madam, hear me speak,
    And let no quarrel nor no brawl to come
    Taint the condition of this present hour, 2570
    Which I have wonder'd at. In hope it shall not,
    Most freely I confess, myself and Toby
    Set this device against Malvolio here,
    Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts
    We had conceived against him: Maria writ 2575
    The letter at Sir Toby's great importance;
    In recompense whereof he hath married her.
    How with a sportful malice it was follow'd,
    May rather pluck on laughter than revenge;
    If that the injuries be justly weigh'd 2580
    That have on both sides pass'd.
  • Olivia. Alas, poor fool, how have they baffled thee!
  • Feste. 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 2585
    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 gagged:'
    and thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.
  • Malvolio. I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you. 2590

[Exit]

  • Olivia. He hath been most notoriously abused.
  • Orsino. Pursue him and entreat him to a peace:
    He hath not told us of the captain yet:
    When that is known and golden time convents, 2595
    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, 2600
    Orsino's mistress and his fancy's queen.

[Exeunt all, except Clown]

  • Feste. [Sings]
    When that I was and a little tiny boy,
    With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, 2605
    A foolish thing was but a toy,
    For the rain it raineth every day.
    But when I came to man's estate,
    With hey, ho, &c.
    'Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate, 2610
    For the rain, &c.
    But when I came, alas! to wive,
    With hey, ho, &c.
    By swaggering could I never thrive,
    For the rain, &c. 2615
    But when I came unto my beds,
    With hey, ho, &c.
    With toss-pots still had drunken heads,
    For the rain, &c.
    A great while ago the world begun, 2620
    With hey, ho, &c.
    But that's all one, our play is done,
    And we'll strive to please you every day.

[Exit]

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