For fhallow draught and bulk unprizable; With which fuch feathful grapple did he make That very envy and the tongue of lofs Cry'd fame and honour on him. What's the matter? 1 Offi. Orfino, this is that Antonio, That took the Phenix, and her fraught, from Candy; And this is he that did the Tiger board, When your young nephew Titus loft his leg: fide; Here in the streets, desperate of shame and state, ́. Duke. Notable pirate, thou falt-water thief, Ant. Noble fir, Orfino, Be pleas'd that I fhake off thefe names you give me : Though, I confefs, on bafe and ground enough, While one would wink; deny'd me mine own purse, Not half an hour before. Vio. How can this be? Duke. When came you to this town? Ant. To-day, my lord; and, for three months before, No interim, not a minute's vacancy, Both day and night did we keep company. SCENE III. Enter Olivia, and Attendants. Duke. Here comes the countefs; now heav'n walks on earth. But for thee, fellow, fellow, thy words are madness: Three months this youth hath tended upon me; But more of that anon. Take him afide. Oli. What would my lord, but that he may not have, Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable? Cefario, you don't keep promise with me. Vio. Madam! Duke. Gracious Olivia! Oli. What do you fay, Cefario? Good my lord- It is as flat and fulfome to mine ear, As howling after musick. Duke. Still fo cruel? Oli. Still, lord, fo conftant. Duke. What, to perverseness? you uncivil lady, To whose ingrate and unaufpicious altars My foul the faithfull'ft offering has breath'd out That e'er devotion tender'd. What fhall I do? Oli. Ev'n what it please my lord, that shall become him. *Like to th' Égyptian thief, at point of death, a Alluding to a story in the romance of Theagenes and Chariclea written by Heliodorus. Kill what I love? a favage jealousy, That sometimes favours nobly. But hear this: That screws me from my true place in your favour; But this your minion, whom, I know, you love, Where he fits crowned in his mafter's spite. Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mischief: To spite a raven's heart within a dove. Vio. And I, moft jocund, apt, and willingly, To do you reft, a thousand deaths would die. Vio. After him I love, More than I love these eyes, more than my life, Punish my life, for tainting of my love! Oli. Ah me, detested! how am I beguil❜d? Vio. Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong? Call forth the holy father. Duke. Come, away. Oli. Whither, my lord? Cefario, husband, stay. Oli. Ay, husband. Can he that deny ? Vio. No, my lord, not I. Oli. Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear, Be that thou know'ft thou art, and then thou art [to Viola. Enter O, welcome, father. Enter Prieft. Father, I charge thee by thy reverence, Prieft. A contract of eternal bond of love, Strengthen❜d by interchangement of your rings; Seal'd in my function, by my testimony: Since when, my watch hath told me, tow'rd my grave Duke. O thou diffembling cub! what wilt thou be Oli. O, do not fwear; Hold little faith, though thou haft too much fear! Enter for Andrew, with his head broke. Sir And. For the love of god, a furgeon; and fend one presently to fir Toby. Oli. What's the matter? Sir And. H'as broke my head across, and given fir Toby a bloody coxcomb too: for the love of god, your help. I had rather than forty pound, I were at home. Oli. Who has done this, fir Andrew? Sir And. Sir And. The duke's gentleman, one Cefario; we took him for a coward, but he's the very devil incarnate. Duke. My gentleman, Cefario? Sir. And. Od's lifelings, here he is: you broke my head for nothing; and that that I did, I was fet on to do't by fir Toby. Vio. Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you: You drew your fword upon me, without cause, But I befpake you fair, and hurt you not. Enter for Toby, and Clown. Sir And. If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me: I think, you fet nothing by a bloody coxcomb. Here comes fir Toby halting, you shall hear more: but if he had not been in drink, he would have tickled you othergates than he did. Duke. How now, gentleman? how is't with you? Sir To. That's all one; he has hurt me, and there's an end ont: fot, didst see Dick surgeon, fot? Clo. O, he's drunk, fir, above an hour agone; his eyes were fet at eight i'th' morning. Sir To. Then he's a rogue, and a paft-measure painim. I hate a drunken rogue. Oli. Away with him: who hath made this havock with them? Sir And. I'll help you, fir Toby, because we'll be dress'd together. Sir To. Will you help an ass-head, and a coxcomb, and a knave, a thin-fac'd knave, a gull? [Exe. Clo. To. and And. Oli. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to. Seb. I am forry, madam, I have hurt your uncle: But, had it been the brother of my blood, I must have done no lefs with wit and safety. [all ftand in amaze. You throw a strange regard on me, by which |