« PreviousContinue »
1 Vio. To answer by the method, in the first of his Enter VIOLA.
heart. Vio. The honourable lady of the house, which is Oli. O, I have read it; it is heresy. Have you she?
no more to say ? Oli. Speak to me, I shall answer for her. Your Vio. Good madam, let me see your face. will ?
Oli. Have you any commission from your lord to Vio. Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable negotiate with my face? you are now out of your beauty, - I pray you, tell me, if this be the lady text: but we will draw the curtain, and show you of the house, for I never saw her: I would be loth the picture. Look you, sir, such a one as I was to cast away my speech; for, besides that it is ex- this present ’: Is't not well done? (Unveiling. cellently well penn'd, I have taken great pains to Vio. Excellently done, if nature did all.
Good beauties, let me sustain no scorn : I Oli. 'Tis in grain, sir; 'twill endure wind and am very comptible, even to the least sinister weather. usage.
Vio. 'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white Oli. Whence came you, sir ?
Nature's own sweet and cunning land laid on: Vis. I can say little more than I have studied, Lady, you are the cruel'st she alive, and that question's out of my part. Good gentle If you will lead these graces to the grave, one, give me modest assurance, if you be the lady And leave the world no copy. of the house, that I may proceed in my speech. Oli. O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will Oli. Are you a comedian ?
give out divers schedules of my beauty : It shall be Vio. No, my profound heart: and yet, by the inventoried ; and every particle, and utensil, lavery fangs of malice, I swear, I am not that I play. belled to my will: as, item, two lips indifferent Are you the lady of the house?
red; item, two grey eyes, with lids to them; item, Oli. If I do not usurp myself, I am.
one neck, one chin, and so forth. Were you sent Vio. Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp hither to 'praise me? yourself; for what is yours to bestow, is not yours Vio. I see you what you are: you are too proud;
But this is from my commission: I will But, if you were the devil, you are fair. on with my speech in your praise, and then show My lord and master loves you; O, such love you the heart of my message.
Could be but recompens'd, though you were crown'd Oli. Come to what is important in't: I forgive The nonpareil of beauty! you the praise.
How does he love me? Vio. Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis Vio. With adorations, with fertile tears, poetical.
With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire. Oli. It is the more like to be feigned; I pray Oli. Your lord does know my mind, I cannot you, keep it in. I heard, you were saucy at my
love him : gates; and allowed your approach, rather to won- Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble, der at you than to hear you. If you be not mad, of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth ; be gone; if you have reason, be brief : 'tis not that In voices well divulg'd 3, free, learn'd, and valiant, time of moon with me, to make one in so skipping And, in dimension, and the shape of nature, a dialogue.
A gracious person : but yet I cannot love him ; Mar. Will you hoist sail, sir ? here lies your way. He might have took his answer long ago.
Vio. No, good swabber; I am to hull here a Vio. If I did love you in my master's flame, little longer. Some mollification for your giant', With such a suffering, such a deadly life, sweet lady.
In your denial I would find no sense, Oli. Tell me your mind.
I would not understand it. Vio. I am a messenger.
Why, what would you? Oli. Sure, you have some hideous matter to de- Vio. Make me a willow cabin at your gate, liver, when the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak And call upon my soul within the house;
Write loyal cantons 4 of contemned love, Vio. It alone concerns your ear. I bring no And sing them loud even in the dead of night; overture of war, no taxation of homage ; I hold the Holla your name to the reverberate hills, olive in my hand: my words are as full of peace as And make the babbling gossip of the air
Cry out, Olivia ! O, you should not rest Oli. Yet you began rudely. What are you? Between the elements of air and earth, what would you?
But you should pity me. Vio. The rudeness, that hath appear'd in me, Oli. You might do much: What is your parentage? have I learn'd from my entertainment. What I Vio. Above my fortunes, yet my state is well : am, and what I would, are to your ears, divinity; I am a gentleman. to any other's profanation.
Get you to your lord; Oli. Give us the place alone : we will hear this I cannot love him: let him send no more ; divinity. (Exit Maria.] Now, sir, what is your Unless, perchance, you come to me again, text?
To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well: Vio. Most sweet lady,
I thank you for your pains: spend this for me. Oli. A comfortable doctrine, and much may be Vio. I am no fee'd post, lady; keep your purse ; said of it. Where lies your text?
My master, not myself, lacks recompense. Vio. In Orsino's bosom.
Love make his heart of flint, that you shall love; Oli. In his bosom? In what chapter of his bosom? And let your fervour, like my master's, be
Plac'd in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty. (Exit. 9 Accountable. | It appears from several parts of this play that the original
3 Well spoken of by the world. actress of Maria was very short.
4 Cantos, verses.
Oli. What is your parentage ?
Oli. Run after that same peevish messenger, Above my fortunes, yet my state is well :
The county's man: he left this ring behind him, I am a gentleman. i'll be sworn thou art; Would I, or not; tell him, I'll none of it. Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit, Desire him not to flatter with his lord, Do give thee five-fold blazon: Not too fast : Nor hold him up with hopes ; I am not for him: soft! soft!
If that the youth will come this way to-morrow, Unless the master were the man. —
How now? l'll give him reasons for't. Hie thee, Malvolio. Even so quickly may one catch the plague ?
Mal. Madam, I will.
[Exll. Methinks, I feel this youth's perfections,
Oli. I do I know not what: and fear to find With an invisible and subtle stealth,
Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind. To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be. - Fate, show thy force : Ourselves we do not What, ho, Malvolio!
What is decreed, must be; and be this so !
SCENE I. The Sea-coast.
SCENE II. - A Street.
Enter VIOLA; Malvolio following.
Mal. Were not you even now with the countess that I go with you?
Olivia ? Seb. By your patience, no: my stars shine darkly Vio. Even now, sir; on a moderate pace I have over me; the malignancy of my fate might, per- since arrived but hither. haps, distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of
Mal. She returns this ring to you, sir; you you your leave, that I may bear my evils alone: might have saved me my pains, to have taken it It were a bad recompense for your love, to lay any away yourself. She adds, moreover, that you should of them on you.
put your lord into a desperate assurance she will Ani. Let me yet know of you,whither you are bound. none of him: And one thing more; that you be
Seb. No, 'sooth, sir; my determinate voyage is never so hardy to come again in his affairs, unless it mere extravagancy. But I perceive in you so ex- be to report your lord's taking of this. Receive it so. cellent a touch of modesty, that you will not extort
Vio. She took the ring of me; I'll none of it. from me what I am willing to keep in; therefore it Mal. Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her; charges me in manners the rather to express myself. and her will is, it should be so returned: if it be You must know of me then, Antonio, my name is worth stooping for, there it lies in your eye; if not, Sebastian, which I called Rodorigo : my father was be it his that finds it.
[Exit. that Sebastian of Messaline, whom, I know, you Vio. I left no ring with her: What means this lady? have heard of: he left behind him, myself, and a Fortune forbid, my outside have not charm’d her! sister, both born in an hour. If the heavens had She made good view of me; indeed, so much, been pleas'd, would we had so ended! but you, sir, That sure, methought her eyes had lost her tongue, alter'd that; for, some hour before you took me For she did speak in starts distractedly. from the breach of the sea, was my sister drowned. She loves me, sure; the cunning of her passion Ant. Alas, the day!
Invites me in this churlish messenger. Seb. A lady, sir, though it was said she much re- None of my lord's ring! why, he sent her none. sembled me, was yet of many accounted beautiful : I am the man; — If it be so as 'tis), but, though I could not, with such estimable won- Poor lady, she were better love a dream. der, overfar believe that, yet thus far I will boldly Disguise, I see, thou art a wickedness, publish her, she bore a mind that envy could not Wherein the pregnant 6 enemy does much. but call fair : she is drowned already, sir, with salt How easy is it, for the proper-false water, though I seem to drown her remembrance In women's waxen hearts to set their forms! again with more.
Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we; Ant. Pardon me, sir, your bad entertainment. For, such as we are made of, such we be. Seb. 0, good Antonio, forgive me your trouble. How will this fadge?7 My master loves her dearly;
Ant. If you will not murder me for my love, let And I, poor monster, fond as much on him ; me be your servant.
And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me: Seb. If you will not undo what you have done, What will become of this! As I am man, that is, kill him whom you have recovered, desire My state is desperate for my master's love;
Fare ye well at once: my bosom is full of As I am woman, now alas the day! kindness; and I amı yet so near the manners of my What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe ! mother, that upon the least occasion more, mine O time, thou must untangle this, not I; eyes will tell tales of me. I am bound to the count It is too hard a knot for me to untie. [Erit. Orsino's court : farewell.
[Erit. Ant. The gentleness of all the gods go with thee: SCENE III. - A Room in Olivia's House. I have many enemies in Orsino's court,
Enter Sir Toby Belch, and Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK. Else would I very shortly see thee there: But come what may, I do adore thee so,
Sir To. Approach, sir Andrew: not to be a-bed That danger shall seem sport, and I will go. (Erit. 5 Own, possess.
6 Dexterous, ready
after midnight, is to be up betimes; and diluculo Clo. Hold thy peace, thou knave, knight! I shall surgere, thou know'st,
be constrain’d in't to call thee knave, knight. Sir And. Nay, by my troth, I know not : but I Sir And, 'Tis not the first time I have constrain'd know, to be up late, is to be up late.
one to call me knave. Begin, fool; it begins, Hold Sir To. A false conclusion: I hate it as an un- thy peace. filled can : To be up after midnight, and to go to Clo. I shall never begin, if I hold my peace. bed then, is early; so that, to go to bed after mid- Sir And. Good, i'faith! Come, begin. night, is to go to bed betimes. Do not our lives
[They sing a catch. consist of the four elements ?
Enter MARIA. Sir And. 'Faith, so they say; but, I think, it rather consists of eating and drinking.
Mar. What a catterwauling do you keep here ! Sir To. Thou art a scholar; let us therefore eat If my lady have not called up her steward, Maland drink. Marian, I say !
- a stoop of wine ! volio, and bid him turn you out of doors, never Enter Clown.
Sir To. My lady's a Cataian ', we are politicians : Sir And. Here comes the fool.
Malvolio's a Peg-a-Ramsey ?, and Three merry men Clo. How now, my hearts? Did you never see
we be. Am not I consanguineous ? am I not of her the picture of we three ? 8
blood ? Tilly-valley *, lady! There dwelt a man in Sir To. Welcome ass. Now let's have a catch. Babylon, lady, lady!
(Singing Sir And. By my troth, the fool has an excellent Clo. Beshrew me, the knight's in admirable fooling. breast, 9 I had rather than forty shillings I had Sir And. Ay, he does well enough, if he be dissuch a leg; and so sweet a breath to sing, as the posed, and so do I too; he does it with a better fool has.
In sooth, thou wast in very gracious grace, but I do it more natural. fooling last night, when thou spokest of Pigrogro- Sir To. O the twelfth day of December,– [Singing. mitus, of the Vapians passing the equinoctial of
Mar. Peace. Queubus ; 'twas very good, i'faith.
Enter MalvoLIO. Clo. My lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses.
Mal. My masters, are you mad? or what are Sir And. Excellent! Why, this is the best fool- you ? Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty, but ing, when all is done. Now, a song.
to gabble like tinkers at this time of night? Do ye Sir To. Come on; there is a sixpence for you:
make an alehouse of my lady's house, that ye squeak let's have a song.
out your coziers'+ catches without any mitigation Sir And. There's a testril of ine too: if one or remorse of voice? Is tliere no respect of place, knight give a
persons, nor time, in you? Clo. Would you have a love-song, or a song of Sir To. We did keep time, sir, in our catches. good life?
Sneck up! 5 Sir To. A love-song, a love-song.
Mal. Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My Sir And. Ay, ay; I care not for good life. lady bade me tell you, that, though she harbours
you as her kinsman, she's nothing allied to your SONG,
disorders. If you can separate yourself and your ('lo. O mistress mine, where are you roaming ?
misdemeanors, you are welcome to the house ; if O stay and hear; your true love's coming,
not, an it would please you to take leave of her, she That can sing both high and low :
is very willing to bid you farewell.
Sir To. Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs
Mar. Nay, good sir Toby.
Clo. His eyes do show his days are almost done. Sir And. Excellent good, i'faith!
Mal. Is't even so? Sir To. Good, good.
Sir To. But I will never die.
Clo. Sir Toby, there you lie.
Mal. This is much credit to you.
Sir To. Shall I bid him go ?
[Singing In delay there lies no plenty ;
Clo. What an if you do?
Sir To. Shall I bid him
spare not ?
Clo. O no, no, no, no, you dare not.
Sir To. Out o'time? sir, ye lie. Art any more Sir And. A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight. than a steward? Dost thou think, because thou art Sir To. A contagious breath.
virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale ? Sir And. Very sweet and contagious, i'faith. Clo. Yes, by saint Anne; and ginger shall be
Sir To. To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in hot i'the mouth too. contagion. But shall we make the welkin dance Sir To. Thou’rt i'the right. — Go, sir, rub your indeed ? Shall we rouse the night-owl in a catch, chain with crums: - - A stoop of wine, Maria! that will draw three souls out of one weaver ? Mal. Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady's Shall we do that?
favour at any thing more than contempt, you would Sır And. An you love me, let's do't: I am dog not give means for this uncivil rule; she shall know at a catch.
of it, by this hand.
[Erit. Clo. By’r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well. Mar. Go shake your ears.
Sir And. Most certain : let our catch be, Thou knave.
2 Name of an old song.
3 Equivalent to filly-fally, shilly-shally. * Loggerheads be.
5 Hang yourself,
Sir And. 'Twere as good a deed as to drink when Sir To. Come, come; I'll go burn some sack, a man's a hungry, to challenge him to the field; and 'tis too late to go to bed now: come, knight; come, then to break promise with him, and make a fool of knight.
Sir To. Do't, knight ; I'll write thee chal- SCENE IV. A Room in the Duke's Palace. lenge: or I'll deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth.
Enter DUKE, VIOLA, Curio, and others. Mar. Sweet sir Toby, be patient for to-night : Duke. Give me some musick: Now, good since the youth of the count's was to-day with my
morrow, friends :lady, she is much out of quiet. For monsieur Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song, Malvolio, let me alone with him : if I do not gull That old and antique song we heard last night ; him into a nay-word ®, and make him a common Methought, it did relieve my passion much; recreation, do not I think I have wit enough to lie More than light airs, and recollected terms straight in my bed : I know, I can do it.
Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times : Sir To. Possess us?, possess us; tell us some- Come, but one verse. thing of him.
Cur. He is not here, so please your lordship, that Mar. Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of Puritan. should sing it.
Sir And. O, if I thought that, I'd beat him like Duke. Who was it? a dog.
Cur. Feste, the jester, my lord ; a fool, that the Sir To. What, for being a Puritan ? thy exqui- lady Olivia's father took much delight in: he is site reason, dear knight?
about the house. Sir And. I have no exquisite reason for't, but I Duke. Seek him out, and play the tune the while. have reason good enough.
(Erit Curio. Musick. Mar. The devil a Puritan that he is, or any thing Come hither, boy: If ever thou shalt love, constantly but a time-pleaser; an affectioned ass, In the sweet pangs of it, remember me: that cons state without book, and utters it by great For, such as I am, all true lovers are; swarths 8: the best persuaded of himself, so cram- Unstaid and skittish in all motions else, med, as he thinks, with excellencies, that it is his Save, in that constant image of the creature ground of faith, that all, that look on him, love | That is belov'd. - How dost thou like this tune? him; and on that vice in him will my revenge find Vio. It gives a very echo to the seat notable cause to work.
Where Love is thron'd. Sir To. What wilt thou do?
Duke. Thou dost speak masterly: Mar. I will drop in his way some obscure epistles My life upon't, young though thou art, thine eye of love ; wherein, by the colour of his beard, the Hath stay'd upon some favour that it loves ; shape of his leg, the manner of his gait, the expres- Hath it not, boy? sure of his eye, forehead, and complexion, he shall Vio.
A little, by your favour. find himself most feelingly personated : I can write Duke. What kind of woman is't? very like my lady, your niece; on a forgotten matter Vio.
Of your complexion. we can hardly make distinction of our hands.
Duke. She is not worth thee, then. What years, Sir To. Excellent! I smell a device.
i'faith? Sir And. I have't in my nose too.
Vio. About your years, my lord. Sir To. He shall think, by the letters that thou Duke. Too old, by heaven; Let still the woman take wilt drop, that they come from my niece, and that An elder than herself; so wears she to him, she is in love with him.
So sways she level in her husband's heart. Mar. My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour. For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, Sir And. And your horse now would make him Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,
More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn, Mar. Ass, I doubt not.
Than women's are. Sir And. 0, 'twill be admirable.
I think it well, my lord. Mar. Sport royal, I warrant you. I will plant Duke. Then let thy love be younger than thy self, you two, and let the fool make a third, where he Or thy affection cannot hold the bent : shall find the letter ; observe his construction of it. For women are as roses; whose fair flower, For this night, to bed, and dream on the event. Being once display'd, doth fall that very hour. Farewell.
[Exit. Vio. And so they are: alas, that they are so; Sir To. Good night, Penthesilea. 9
To die, even when they to perfection grow!
Re-enter Curio, and Clown. adores me: What o'that?
Duke. O fellow, come, the song we had last Sir And. I was adored once too.
night: Sir To. Let's to bed, knight. — Thou hadst need Mark it, Cesario; it is old, and plain : send for more money.
The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, Sir And. If I cannot recover your niece, I am a And the free maids that weave their thread with foul way out.
bones, Sir To. Send for money, knight; if thou hast Do use to chaunt it; it is silly sooth ?, her not i'the end, call me Cut. 1
And dallies with the innocence of love, Sir And. If I do not, never trust me, take it Like the old age. how you will.
Clo. Are you ready, sir ?
Duke. Ay; pr’ythee, sing. # The row of grass left by a mower. 1 Fool.
2 Simple truth.
7 Inform us.
She sat like patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief. Was not this love, indeed ? Clo. Come away, come away, death,
We men may say more, swear more: but, indeed, And in sad cypress let me be lail;
Our shows are more than will; for still we prove Fly away, fly away, breath ;
Much in our vows, but little in our love. I am slain by a fair cruel mnid.
Duke. But died thy sister of her love, my boy? My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,
Vio. I am all the daughters of my father's house, 0, prepare it ;
And all the brothers too ; – and yet I know not:My part of death, no one so true
Sir, shall I to this lady?
Ay, that's the theme. Not a flower, not a flower sweet,
To her in haste; give her this jewel; say, On my black coffin l't there be strown ;
My love can give no place, bide no denay. + Not a friend, not a friend greet
(Ereunt. My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown: A thousand thousand sighs lo save,
SCENE V. - Olivia's Garden.
Enter Sir Toby BELCH, Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK, Sad true lover ne'er find my grave,
and Fabian. To weep there.
Sir To. Come thy ways, signior Fabian. Duke. There's for thy pains.
Fab. Nay, I'll come; if I lose a scruple of this Clo. No pains, sir; I take pleasure in singing, sir. sport, let me be boiled to death with melancholy. Duke. I'll pay thy pleasure, then.
Sir To. Would'st thou not be glad to have the Clo. Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid, one niggardly rascally sheep-biter come by some notable time or another.
shame? Duke. Give me now leave to leave thee.
Fab. I would exult, man: you know, he brought Clo. Now, the melancholy god protect thee; and me out of favour with my lady, about a bear-baiting the tailor make thy doublet of changeable taflata, here. for thy mind is a very opal. — I would have men of Sir To. To anger him, we'll have the bear again ; such constancy put to sea, that their business might and we will fool him black and blue : - Shall we be every thing, and their intent every where ; for not, sir Andrew ? that's it, that always makes a good voyage of no- Sir And. An we do not, it is pity of our lives. thing. — Farewell.
[Exit Clown. Duke. Let all the rest give place.
Enter Maria. [Ereunt Curto and Altendants. Sir To. Here comes the little villain : How
Once more, Cesario, now, my neule of India ? Get thee to yon' same sovereign cruelty :
Mar. Get ye all three into the box-tree: MalTell her, my love, more noble than the world,
volio's coming down this walk; he has been yonder Prizes not quantity of dirty lands ;
i'the sun, practising behaviour to his own shadow The parts that fortune hath bestow'd upon her, this half hour : observe him, for the love of mockery. Tell her, I hold as giddily as fortune;
for, I know, this letter will make a contemplative But 'tis that miracle, and queen of gems,
idiot of him. Close, in the name of jesting! (The That nature pranks 3 her in, attracts my soul.
men hide themselves.] Lie thou there; [Throw; Vio. But, if she cannot love you, sir?
down a letter,] for here comes the trout that must Duke. I cannot be so answer'd.
be caught with tickling.
[Exit Maria, 'Sooth, but you must. Say, that some lady, as, perhaps, there is,
Enter MalvoLIO. Hath for your love as great a pang of heart
Mal. 'Tis but fortune ; all is fortune. Maria As you have for Olivia : you cannot love her; once told me, she did affect me: and I have heard You tell her so; Must she not then be answer'd ? herself come thus near, that, should she fancy, it Duke. There is no woman's sides,
should be one of my complexion. Besides, she uses Can bide the beating of so strong a passion me with a more exalted respect than any one else As love doth give my heart : no woman's heart that follows her. What should I think on't? So big, to hold so much; they lack retention. Sir To. Here's an overweening rogue ! But mine is all as hungry as the sea,
Fab. O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare And can digest as much : make no compare turkey-cock of him ; how he jets 5 under his adBetween that love a woman can bear me,
vanced plumes ! And that I owe Olivia.
Sir And. 'Slight, I could so beat the rogue:Vio. Ay, but I know,
Sir To. Peace, I say.
Mal. To be count Malvolio; -
Sir And. Pistol him, pistol him.
Sir To. Peace, peace ! As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman,
Mul. There is example fort; the lady of the I should your lordship.
strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe. Duke.
And what's her history? Sir And. Fie on him, Jezebel ! Vio. A blank, my lord : She never told her love, Fab. O, peace ! now he's deeply in, look, how But let concealment, like a worm i'the bud, imagination blows him. Feed on her damask cheek: she pind in thought : Mal. Having been three months married to her, And, with a green and yellow melancholy, sitting in my state, 3 Decks.