That, ere she sleep, has thrice her prayers said,~ Search Windsor castle, elves, within and out: And nightly, meadow-fairies, look, you sing, In emerald tufts, flowers purple, blue, and white: Era. Pray you, lock hand in hand; yourselves in order set: And twenty glow-worms shall our lanterns be, Fal. Heavens defend me from that Welsh fairy! lest he transform me to a piece of cheese! Pist. Vile worm, thon wast o'erlook'd even in thy birth. Quick. With trial-fire touch me his finger-end: If he be chaste, the flame will back descend, And turn him to no pain; but if he start, It is the flesh of a corrupted heart. Pist. A trial, come. Eva. Come, will this wood take fire? [They burn him with their tapers. Fal. Oh, oh, oh! Quick. Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire! About him, fairies; sing a scornful rhyme; And, as you trip, still pinch him to your time. Eva. It is right; indeed he is full of lecheries and iniquity. SONG. Fye on sinful fantasy! Fye on lust and luxury! Lust is but a bloody fire, Kindled with unchaste desire, Fed in heart: whose flames aspire, As thoughts do blow them, higher and higher. Pinch him for his villainy; Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about, Till candles, and star-light, and moon-shine be out. no higher Now, good sir John, how like you Windsor wives? See you these, husband? do not these fair yokes Become the forest better than the town? Ford. Now, sir, who's a cuckold now ?-Master Brook, Falstaff's a knave, a cuckoldly knave; here are his horns, master Brook: And, master Brook, he hath enjoyed nothing of Ford's but his buck basket, his cudgel, and twenty pounds of money; which must be paid to master Brook; his horses are arrested for it, master Brook. Mrs. Ford. Sir John, we have had ill luck; we could never meet. I will never take you for my love again, but I will always count you my deer. Fal. I do begin to perceive that I am made an ass: Ford. Ay, and an ox too; both the proofs are extant. Fal. And these are not fairies? I was three or four times in the thought, they were not fairies: and yet the guiltiness of my mind, the sudden surprize of my powers, drove the grossness of the foppery into a received belief, in despite of the teeth of all rhyme and reason, that they were fairies. See now, how wit may be made a Jack-a-lent, when 'tis upon ill employment. Eva. Sir John Falstaff, serve Got, and leave your desires, and fairies will not pinse you. Ford. Well said, fairy Hugh. Eva. And leave you your jealousies too, I pray you. Ford. I will never mistrust my wife again, till thou art able to woo her in good English. Fal. Have I laid my brain in the sun, and dried it, that it wants matter to prevent so gross o'er reaching as this? Am I ridden with a Welch goat too? Shall I have a coxcomb of frize? "Tis time I were choked with a piece of toasted cheese. Era. Seese is not good to give putter; your pelly is all putter. Fal. Seese and putter! have I lived to stand at the taunt of one that makes fritters of English? This is enough to be the decay of lust and latewalking through the realm. Mrs. Page. Why, sir John, do you think, though we would have thrust virtue out of our hearts by the head and shoulders, and have given ourselves without scruple to hell, that ever the devil could have made you our delight? Ford. What, a hodge-pudding? a bag of flax? Mrs. Page. A puffed man? Page. Old, cold, withered, and of intolerable entrails? Ford. And one that is as slanderous as Satan? Page. And as poor as Job? Ford. And as wicked as his wife? Eva. And given to fornications, and to taverns, and sack, and wine, and metheglins, and to drinkings, and swearings, and starings, pribbles and prabbles? Fal. Well, I am your theme: you have the start of me; I am dejected; I am not able to answer the Welch flannel: ignorance itself is a plummet o'er me: use me as you will. Ford. Marry, sir, we'll bring you to Windsor, to one master Brook, that you have cozened of money, to whom you should have been a pander: over and above that you have suffered, I think, to repay that money will be a biting affliction. Slen. Whoo, ho! ho! father Page! Page. Son! how now? how now, son? have you despatched? Slen. Despatched!-I'll make the best in Glocestershire know on't; would I were hanged, la, else. Page. Of what, son? Slen. I came yonder at Eton to marry mistress Anne Page, and she's a great lubberly boy: If it had not been i' the church, I would have swinged him, or he should have swinged me. If I did not think it had been Anne Page, would I might never stir, and 'tis a post-master's boy. Page. Upon my life then you took the wrong. Slen. What need you tell me that? I think so, when I took a boy for a girl: If I had been married to him, for all he was in woman's apparel, I would not have had him. Page. Why, this is your own folly. Did not I tell you, how you should know my daughter by her garments? Slen. I went to her in white, and cry'd mum, and she cry'd budget, as Anne and I had appointed; and yet it was not Anne, but a post-master's boy. Eva. Jeshu! Master Slender, cannot you see but marry boys? Page. Ó, I am vexed at heart: What shall I do? Mrs. Page. Good George, be not angry: I knew of your purpose; turned my daughter into green; and, indeed, she is now with the doctor at the deanery, and there married. Enter Caius. Caius. Vere is mistress Page? By gar, I am cozened; I ha' married un garcon, a boy; un paisan, by gar, a boy; it is not Anne Page: by gar, I am cozened. Page. My heart misgives me: Here comes mas Enter Fenton and Anne Page. How now, master Fenton ? Anne. Pardon, good father! good my mother pardon! Page. Now, mistress? how chance you went not with master Slender? Mrs. Page. Why went you not with master doc tor, maid? Fent. You do amaze her: Hear the truth of it. You would have married her most shamefully, Where there was no proportion held in love. The truth is, she and I, long since contracted, Are now so sure, that nothing can dissolve us. The offence is holy, that she hath committed: And this deceit loses the name of craft, Of disobedience, or unduteous title; [Since therein she doth evitate and shun A thousand irreligious cursed hours, Which forced marriage would have brought upon Ford. Stand not amaz'd: here is no remedy:In love, the heavens themselves do guide the state; Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate. [her. Fal. I am glad, though you have ta'en a special stand to strike at me, that your arrow hath glanced. Page. Well, what remedy? Fenton, heaven thee joy! What cannot be eschew'd, must be embrac'd. Fal. When night-dogs run, all sorts of deer are chas'd. Eva. I will dance and eat plums at your wedding. Mrs. Page. Well, I will muse no further:-Master Fenton, Heaven give you many, many merry days !— Ford. Let it be so:-Sir John, [Exeunt. TWELFTH NIGHT: OR, WHAT YOU WILL. Orsino, Duke of Illyria. PERSONS REPRESENTED. Sebastian, a young gentleman, brother to Viola. Valentine, Curio, } gentlemen attending on the Duke. Sir Toby Belch, uncle of Olivia. Olivia, a rich Countess. Viola, in love with the Duke. Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians, and SCENE, A city in Illyria; and the Sea-coast near it. ACT I. SCENE I.-An Apartment in the Duke's Palace. Enter Duke, Curio, Lords; Musicians attending. Duke. If musick 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: O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south, That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing, and giving odour.-Enough; no more; 'Tis not so sweet now, as it was before. Cur. What, Curio? The hart. Duke. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have: O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first, Val. So please my lord, I might not be admitted, Duke. O, she, that hath a heart of that fine frame, SCENE II.The Sea-coast. [Exeunt. Illyria, Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, captain; Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be; SCENE III.-A Room in Olivia's House. Enter Sir Toby Belch, and Maria. Sir To. What a plague means my niece, to take the death of her brother thus? I am sure, care's an enemy to life. Mar. By my troth, sir Toby, you must come in earlier o'nights; your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions to your ill hours. Sir To. Why, let her except before excepted. Mar. Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest limits of order. Sir To. Confine? I'll confine myself no finer lady.than I am: these clothes are good enough to drink in, and so be these boots too; an they be not, let them hang themselves in their own straps. Vio. And what should I do in Illyria? Cap. It is perchance, that you yourself were saved. (Courage and hope both teaching him the practice) Vio. As in his name. Vio. Cap. A noble duke, in nature, Orsino. Vio. Orsino! I have heard my father name him: He was a bachelor then. Cap. And so is now, Or was so very late: for but a month Vio. What's she? [her Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count Vio. O, that I served that lady: That were hard to compass; Mar. 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. Sir To. Who? Sir Andrew Ague-cheek? Sir To. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria. Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats a year. Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats; he's a very fool, and a prodigal. Sir To. Fye, that you'll say so! he plays o' the viol-de-gambo, and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature. Mar. 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, he would quickly have the gift of a grave. Sir To. By this hand, they are scoundrels, and substractors, that say so of him. Who are they? Mar. They that add moreover, he's drunk nightly in your company. Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece; I'll drink to her, as long as there is a passage in my throat, and drink in Illyria: He's a coward, and a coystril, 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 Ague-face. Enter Sir Andrew Ague-cheek. Sir A. Sir Toby Belch! how now, sir Toby Belch Sir And. Bless you, fair shrew. Mar. And you too, sir. Sir To. Accost, sir Andrew, accost. Sir And. What's that? Sir To. My niece's chamber.maid. Sir And. Good mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance. Mar. My name is Mary, sir. Sir And. Good mistress Mary Accost, Sir To. You mistake, knight: accost, is, front her, board her, woo her, assail her. Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake her in this company. Is that the meaning of accost? |