The works of William Shakspeare, life, glossary &c. repr. from the early eds. and compared with recent commentators

Our own love, waking, cries to see what's Upon her great disaster.

done,

While shameful hate sleeps out the afternoon. Be this sweet, Helen's knell, and now forget

her.

[lin: And mak'st conjectural fears to come into me, Send forth your amorous token for fair Maud- Which I would fain shut out. If it should The main consents are had; and here we'll stay

I have seen her wear it; and she reckon'd it
At her life's rate.

Laf.
I am sure I saw her wear it.
Ber. You are deceiv'd, my lord; she never
saw it :

In Florence was it from a casement thrown me,
Wrapp'd in a paper, which contain'd the name
Of her that threw it: noble she was, and
thought

I stood ingag'd: but when I had subscrib'd
To mine own fortune, and inform'd her fully
I could not answer in that course of honour
As she had made the overture, she ceas'd,
In heavy satisfaction, and would never
Receive the ring again.

Plutus himself,

King. That knows the tinct and multiplying me

dicine,

prove [so ;That thou art so inhuman,-'twill not prove And yet I know not :-thou didst hate her

deadly,

[him!

And she is dead; which nothing, but to close
Her eyes myself, could win me to believe,
More than to see this ring.-Take him away.—
[Guards seize Bertram.
My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall,
Shall tax my fears of little vanity,
Having vainly fear'd too little.-Away_with
We'll sift this matter further.
Ber.
If you shall prove
This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy
Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence,
Where yet she never was. [Exit guarded.
King. I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings.
Enter the gentle Astringer.
Gent.
Gracious sovereign,
Whether I have been to blame, or no, I know
Here's a petition from a Florentine, [not:
Who hath, for four or five removes, come short
To tender it herself. I undertook it,
Vanquish'd thereto by the fair grace and speech
Of the poor suppliant, who by this, I know,
Is here attending: her business looks in her
With an importing visage; and she told me,
In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern
Your highness with herself.

King. [Reads.] Upon his many protestations to marry me when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won me. Now is the count Rousillon a widower: his vows are forfeited to me, and my honour's paid to him. He stole from Florence, taking no leave, and I follow him to his country for justice: grant it me, O king! in you it best lies; otherwise a seducer flourishes, and a poor maid is undone.

DIANA CAPULET." Laf. I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll for this: I'll none of him. King. The heavens have thought well on thee, Lafeu, [suitors: Seek these

To bring forth this discovery. -
Go speedily, and bring again the count.
[Exeunt the gentle Astringer, and some
Attendants.

I am afeard the life of Helen, lady,
Was foully snatch'd.

Count.

Now, justice on the doers! Re-enter Bertram, guarded.

King. I wonder, sir, since wives are mon

sters to you,

And that you fly them as you swear them lordYet you desire to marry.[ship, Re-enter the gentle Astringer, with Widow and Diana.

What woman's that?

Dia. I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine, Derived from the ancient Capulet : My suit, as I do understand, you know, And therefore know how far I may be pitied. Wid. I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour

Both suffer under this complaint we bring : And both shall cease, without your remedy. King. Come hither, count: do you know these women?

Ber. My lord, I neither can nor will deny But that I know them: do they charge me farther? [wife? Dia. Why do you look so strange upon your Ber. She's none of mine, my lord. Dia. If you shall marry, You give away this hand, and that is mine; You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine;

You give away myself, which is known mine;
For I by vow am so embodied yours,
That she which marries you must marry me,
Either both or none.

Laf. [To Bertram.] Your reputation comes too short for my daughter; you are no husband for her.

Ber. My lord, this is a fond and desperate creature, [your highness Whom sometime I have laugh'd with: let Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour, Than for to think that I would sink it here.

King. Sir, for my thoughts, you have them ill to friend,

Till your deeds gain them: fairer prove your honour,

Than in my thought it lies.
Dia.

Good my lord,

Ask him upon his oath, if he does think
He had not my virginity.

King. What say'st thou to her?
Ber.

She's impudent, my lord; And was a common gamester to the camp. Dia. He does me wrong, my lord; if I

were so,

He might have bought me at a common price:
Do not believe him: O, behold this ring,
Whose high respect and rich validity
Did lack a parallel; yet, for all that,
He gave it to a commoner o' the camp,
If I be one.
Count.

He blushes, and 'tis it:

Of six preceding ancestors, that gem Conferr'd by testament to the sequent issue, Hath it been ow'd and worn. This is his wife; That ring's a thousand proofs.

King. Methought you said You saw one here in court could witness it. Dia. I did, my lord, but loth am to produce So bad an instrument: his name's Parolles. Laf. I saw the man to-day, if man he be. King. Find him, and bring him hither. [Exit an Attendant. Ber. What of him? He's quoted for a most perfidious slave,

And boarded her i'the wanton way of youth:
She knew her distance, and did angle for me,
Madding my eagerness with her restraint,
As all impediments in fancy's course
Are motives of more fancy; and, in fine,
Her infinite cunning, with her modern grace,
Subdued me to her rate: she got the ring;
And I had that, which any inferior might
At market-price have bought.

Dia.
I must be patient;
You, that have turn'd off a first so noble wife,
May justly diet me. I pray you yet,
(Since you lack virtue, I will lose a husband,)
Send for your ring, I will return it home,
And give me mine again.

Ber.

I have it not. King, What ring was yours, I pray you? Sir, much like

Dia.

The same upon your finger.

King. Know you this ring? this ring was his of late. [bed. Dia. And this was it I gave him, being aKing. The story then goes false, you threw Out of a casement. [it him Dia. I have spoke the truth. Ber. My lord, I do confess, the ring was hers. King. You boggle shrewdly, every feather starts you.

Enter Parolles.
Is this the man you speak of?

Dia.
King. Tell me, sirrah, but

charge you,

Ay, my lord. tell me true, I

Not fearing the displeasure of your master, (Which, on your just proceeding, I'll keep off,) [you? By him, and by this woman here, what know Par. So please your majesty, my master hath been an honourable gentleman: tricks he hath had in him, which gentlemen have. King. Come, come, to the purpose: did he love this woman?

Par. 'Faith, sir, he did love her; but how? King. How, pray you?

Par. He did love her, sir, as a gentleman King. How is that? [loves a woman? Par. He loved her, sir, and loved her not. King. As thou art knave, and no knave.What an equivocal companion is this?

Par. I am a poor man, and at your majesty's command.

Laf. He is a good drum, my lord, but a naughty orator.

Dia. Do you know he promised me marriage?

Par. 'Faith, I know more than I'll speak.

King. But wilt thou not speak all thou knowest?

And he shall surety me. But for this lord,
Who hath abus'd me, as he knows himself,
Though yet he never harm'd me, here I quit
him:

Par. Yes, so please your majesty. I did go between them, as I said; but more than that, he loved her,for, indeed, he was mad for He knows himself my bed he hath defil'd ; her, and talked of Satan, and of limbo, and of And at that time he got his wife with child: furies, and I know not what yet was in that Dead though she be, she feels her young one credit with them at that time, that I knew of

kick:

their going to bed; and of other motions, as So there's my riddle. One that's dead is quick : promising her marriage, and things which And now behold the meaning. would derive me ill-will to speak of; therefore Re-enter Widow, with Helena. I will not speak what I know. King. Is there no exorcist Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes? Is't real that I see? Hel. No, my good lord; 'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see, The name, and not the thing. Ber.

King. Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst say they are married: but thou art too fine in thy evidence; therefore stand aside.

This ring, you say, was yours?
Dia.
Ay, my good lord.
King. Where did you buy it; or who gave
it you?
[buy it.
Dia. It was not given me, nor I did not
King. Who lent it you?
Dia.
It was not lent me neither.
King. Where did you find it, then?
Dia.
I found it not.
King. If it were yours by none of all these
How could you give it him? [ways,
I never gave it him.
Laf. This woman's an easy glove, my lord;
she goes off and on at pleasure.
King. This ring was mine; I gave it his
first wife.
[I know.
Dia. It might be yours, or hers, for aught
King. Take her away; I do not like her

Dia.

Both, both: O, pardon! Hel. O my good lord, when I was like this maid, [ring: found you wondrous kind. There is your And, look you, here's your letter; this it says: When from my finger you can get this ring, And are by me with child, &c." This is done: Will you be mine, now you are doubly won? Ber. If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly,

I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly.

[true,

Hel. If it appear not plain, and prove unDeadly divorce step between me and you !— O my dear mother, do I see you living?

Laf. Mine eyes smell onions; I shall weep anon.- To Parolles.] Good Tom Drum, lend me a handkerchief: so, I thank thee: wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee: let thy courtesies alone, they are scurvy ones.

King. Let us from point to point this story know,

To make the even truth in pleasure flow.--
[To Diana.] If thou be'st yet a fresh uncrop-
pèd flower,
[dower;
Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy
For I can guess, that by thy honest aid,
Thou kept'st a wife herself, thyself a maid. –
of that, and all the progress, more or less,
Resolvedly more leisure shall express:
All yet seems well; and if it end so meet,
The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet.
[Flourish.

The king's a beggar, now the play is done:
All is well ended, if this suit be won,
That you express content: which we will pay,
With strife to please you, day exceeding day:
Ours be your patience then, and yours our

TWELFTH-NIGHT: OR, WHAT YOU WILL.

Orsino, Duke of Illyria.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

Malvolio, Steward to Olivia.

Sebastian, a young Gentleman, Brother to Fabian, Servants to Olivia.

Viola.

Antonio, a Sea Captain, Friend to Sebastian. Olivia, a rich Countess.
A Sea Captain, Friend to Viola.

Valentine, Gentlemen attending on the Duke.

Curio,

Sir Toby Belch, Uncle to Olivia. Sir Andrew Ague-cheek.

Viola, in love with the Duke.

Maria, Olivia's Waiting-woman.

Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians, and other Attendants.

SCENE, A City in Illyria; and the Sea-coast near it.

'Tis not so sweet now, as it was before.
O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou!
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,
That it alone is high-fantastical.
Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord?
Duke.
What, Curio?

Cur.
The hart.
Duke. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have:
O. when mine eyes did see Olivia first,
Methought she purg'd 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.--

Enter Valentine.

How now! what news from her? Va.. So please my lord, I might not be admitted;

But from her handmaid do return this answer :
The element itself, till seven years' heat,
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
And lasting in her sad remembrance. [fresh

Duke. 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
That live in her! when liver, brain, and heart,
These sovereign thrones, are all supplied and
fill'd

(Her sweet perfection) with one self-king!-
Away before me to sweet beds of flowers:
Love-thoughts lie rich, when canopied with
bowers.
[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The Sea-coast. Enter Viola, Captain, and Sailors. Vio. What country, friends, is this? Cap. This is Illyria, lady. Vio. And what should I do in Illyria? My brother he is in Elysium. Perchance, he is not drown'd:-what think

you sailors?

[sav'd. Cap. It is perchance that you yourself were Vio. O my poor brother! and so perchance [with chance,

may he be. Cap. True, madam: and, to comfort you Assure yourself, after our ship did split, [you, When you, and those poor number sav'd with Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother, Most provident in peril, bind himself (Courage and hope both teaching him the practice)

To a strong mast, that liv'd 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.

Vio. For saying so, there's gold:
Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,
Whereto thy speech serves for authority,
The like of him. Know'st thou this country?
Cap. Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and
born

Not three hours' travel from this very place.
Vio. Who governs here?

Cap. A noble duke, in nature as in name.
Vio.
What is his name?

Cap. Orsino.
Vio. Orsino! I have heard my father name]
He was a bachelor then.

[him:
Cap. 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)
That he did seek the love of fair Olivia.

That were hard to compass;
Because she will admit no kind of suit,
No, not the duke's.

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?
Mar. Ay, he.

Sir To. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria.
Mar. What's that to the purpose?

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. 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 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?

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.

Mar. They that add, moreover, he's drunk Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, cap-nightly in your company. tain; [wall And though that nature with a beauteous Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee I will believe, thou hast a mind that suits With this thy fair and outward character. I pr'ythee, (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 shalt present me as a eunuch to him: 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. Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll [not see! When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes Vio. I thank thee: lead me on. [Exeunt.

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 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.

Mar. That quaffing and drinking will undo

Sir And. Sir Toby Belch, how now, Sir Toby Belch?

Sir To. Sweet Sir Andrew.

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 chambermaid.

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?

Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen.

Sir To. An thou let her part so, Sir Andrew, would thou mightst never draw sword again?

Sir And. An you part so, mistress, I would I might never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think you have fools in hand?

Mar. Sir, Í have not you by the hand. Sir And. Marry, but you shall have; and here's my hand.

Mar. Now, sir, thought is free: I pray you, bring your hand to the buttery-bar, and let it drink.

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The works of William Shakspeare, life, glossary &c. repr. from the ..., Part 73