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Clo. Apt, in good faith; very apt! Well, go thy Mar. I know not, madam; 'tis a fair young man, way; if sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert and well attended. as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria. Oli. Who of my people hold him in delay ?
Mar. Peace, you rogue, no more o' that ; here Mar. Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman, comes my lady: make your excuse wisely, you were | Oli. Fetch him off, I pray you; he speaks no. best.
(Ewit.thing but madman: Fye on him! [Exit Maria.
Go you, Malvolio: if it be a suit from the count, Enter Olivia and Malvolio.
I am sick, or not at home; what you will, to dis. Clo. Wit; and 't be thy will, put me into good miss it. Erit Malvolio.] Now you see, sir, how fooling! Those wits that think they have thee, do your fooling grows old, and people dislike it. very oft prove fools; and I, that am sure I lack thee, Clo. Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy may pass for a wise man: For what says Quinapa. eldest son should be a fool: whose skull Jove cram lus? Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit. God with brains, for here he comes, one of thy kin, has bless thee, lady!
a most weak pia mater. oli. Take the fool away. Clo. Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the
Enter Sir Toby Belch. lady. oli. Go to, you're a dry fool; I'll no more of you :
Oli. By mine honour, half drunk. What is he besides, you grow dishonest.
at the gate, cousin ? Clo. Two faults, madonna, that drink and good! Sir To. A gentleman. counsel will amend : for give the dry fool drink.l Oli. A gentleman ? What gentleman ? then is the fool not dry; bid the dishonest man
Sir To. "Tis a gentleman here- A plague o'these mend himself: if he mend. he is no longer dis. I pickle-herrings !How now, sot? honest; if he cannot, let the botcher mend him:
dhim: Clo. Good Sir Toby, Any thing that's mended, is but patched : virtuel
oli. Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early that transgresses, is but patched with sin: and sin. Dy this lethargy? that amends, is but patched with virtue: If that! Sir To. Lechery! I defy lechery : There's one at this simple syllogism will serve, so : if it will not. I the gate. what remedy? As there is no true cuckold but
oli. Ay, marry; what is he? calamity, so beauty's a flower :--the lady bade take
Sir To. Let him be the devil, an he will, I care away the fool; therefore, I say again, take her away.
not: give me faith, say I. Well, it's all one. (Ezit. oli. Sir, I bade them take away you.
Oli, What's a drunken man like, fool ? Clo. Misprision in the highest degree ! - Lady,
Clo, Like a drown'd man, a fool, and a madman: Cucullus non facit monachum ; that's as much as to
Jone draught above heat makes him a fool; the sesay, I wear not motley in my brain. Good madon
cond mads him; and a third drowns him. na, give me leave to prove you a fool.
Oli. Go thou and seek the coroner, and let him Oli. Can you do it?
sit o'my coz; for he's in the third degree of drink, Clo. Dexterously, good madonna.
he's drown'd: go, look after him. Oli. Make your proof.
Clo. He is but mad yet, madonna; and the fool Clo. I must catechize you for it, madonna; Good Shah onna: Good shall look to the madman.
[Exit Clown. my mouse of virtue, answer me.
Re-enter Malvolio Oli. Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I'll 'bide your proof.
Mal. Madam, yond' young fellow swears he will Clo, Good madonna, why mourn'st thou ?
speak with you. I told him you were sick; he Oli. Good fool, for my brother's death.
takes on him to understand so much, and therefore Clo, I think, his soul is in hell, madonna.
comes to speak with you: I told him you were Oli. I know his soul is in heaven, fool.
asleep; he seems to have a fore-knowledge of that Clo. The more fool yout, madonna, to mourn for too, and therefore comes to speak with you. What your brother's soul being in heaven.--Take away is to be said to him, lady? he's fortified against any the fool, gentlemen.
denial. Oli. What think you of this fool, Malvolio ? doth oli. Tell him, he shall not speak with me. he not mend?
Mal. He has been told so; and he says, he'll Mal. Yes; and shall do, till the pangs of death stand at your door like a sheriff's post, and be the shake him : Infirmity, that decays the wise, doth supporter of a bench, but he'll speak with you. ever make the better fool.
oli. What kind of man is he? Clo. God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the Mal. Why, of mankind. better increasing your folly ! Sir Toby will be sworn, oli. What manner of man? that I am no fox; but he will not pass his word for Mal. Of very ill manner; he'll speak with "ou, two-pence that you are no fool.
will you, or no. oli. How say you to that, Malvolio ?
Oli, Of what personage, and years, is he? Mal. I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such Mal. Not yet old enough for a man, nor young a barren rascal; I saw him put down the other enough for a boy; as a squash is before 'tis a peasday with an ordinary fool, that has no more brain cod, or a codling when 'tis almost an apple: 'tis than a stone. Look you now, he's out of his guard with him e'en standing water, between boy and already; unless you laugh and minister occasion to man. He is very well-favoured, and he speaks very him, he is gagged. I protest, I take these wise shrewishly ; one would think, his mother's milk men, that crow so at these set kind of fools, no bet were scarce out of him. ter than the fools' zanies.
Oli. Let him approach: Call in my gentleOli. O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and woman. taste with a distempered appetite. To be generous, Mal. Gentlewoman, my lady calls. [Erit. guiltless, and of free disposition, is to take those things for bird-bolts, that you deem cannon-bullets:
Re-enter Maria. There is no slander in an allowed fool, though he do 011.Give me my veil: come, throw it o'er my face; nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known discreet We'll once more hear Orsino's embassy. man, though he do nothing but reprove. Clo. Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for
Enter Viola. thou speakest well of fools!
Vio. The honourable lady of the house, which is
she? Re-enter Maria.
Oli. Speak to me, I shall answer for her: Your Mar. Madam, there is at the gate a young gen- will? tleman, much desires to speak with you.
Vio. Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable oli. From the count Orsino, is it?
beauty, I pray you, tell me, if this be the lady of
I would be legati one neckepraise meet you are : you ar
the house, for I never saw her: I would be loath red; item, two grey eyes, with lids to them ; item, to cast away my speech; for, besides that it is ex- one neck, one chin, and so forth. Were you sent cellently well penn'd, I have taken great pains to hither to 'praise me? son it. Good beauties, let me sustain ne scorn; I Vio. I see you what you are: you are too proud; am very comptible, even to the least sinister usage. But, if you were the devil, you are fair. Oli. Whence came you, sir?
My lord and master loves you ; 0, such love Vio. I can say little more than I have studied, Could be but recompens'd, though you were crown'd and that question's out of my part. Good gentle The nonpareil of beauty! one, give me modest assnrance, if you be the lady Oli.
How does he love me? of the house, that I may proceed in my speech. Vio. With adorations, with fertile tears, Oli. Are you a comedian ?
With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire. Vio. No, my profound heart and yet, by the oli. Your lord does know my mind, I cannot very fangs of malice I swear I am not that I play.
love him: Are you the lady of the house?
Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble, oli. If I do not usurp myself, I am.
Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth; Vio. Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp In voices well divulg'd, free, learn'd, and valiant, yourself; for what is yours to bestow, is not yours. And, in dimension, and the shape of nature, to reserve. But this is from my commission: I will A gracious person: but yet I cannot love him; on with my speech in your praise, and then show He might have took his answer long ago. you the heart of my message.
Vio. If I did love you in my master's flame, Oli. Come to what is important in't : I forgive With such a suffering, such a deadly life, you the praise.
In your denial I would find no sense, Vio. Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis I would not understand it. poetical.
Why, what would you? Oli. It is the more like to be feigned; I pray Vio. Make me a willow cabin at your gate, you, keep it in. I heard you were saucy at my And call upon my soul within the house ; gates; and allowed your approach, rather to wonder Write loyal cantons of contemned love, at you than to hear you. If you be not mad, be And sing them loud even in the dead of night; gone; if you have reason, be brief : 'tis not that Holla your name to the reverberate hills, time of moon with me, to make one in so skipping And make the babbling gossip of the air a dialogue.
Cry out, Olivia ! 0, you should not rest Mar. Will you hoist sail, sir ? here lies your way. Between the elements of air and earth, Vio. No, good swabber; I am to hull here a But you should pity me.
(age little longer. Some mollification for your giant, oli. You might do much : What is your parent. sweet lady.
Vio. Above my fortunes, yet my state is well: Oli. Tell me your mind.
I am a gentleman. Vio. I am a messenger.
Get you to your lord; Oli. Sure, you have some hideous matter to de- I cannot love him: let him send no more; liver, when the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak Unless, perchance, you come to me again, your office.
To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well : Vio. It alone concerns your ear. I bring no I thank you for your pains : spend this for me. overture of war, no taxation of homage; I hold the Vio. I am no fee'd post, lady; keep your purse. olive in my hand : my words are as full of peace My master, not myself, lacks recompense. as matter.
Love makes his heart of flint, that you shall love; Oli. Yet you began rudely. What are you? what And let your fervour, like my master's, be would you?
Plac'd in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty. [Erit. Vio. The rudeness that hath appeared in me, oli. What is your parentage ? have I learn'd from my entertainment. What I Above my fortunes, yet my state is meli. am, and what I would, are as secret as maiden- I am a gentleman. ill be sworn thou art; head: to your ears, divinity; to any other's, pro- Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit, fanation.
Do give thee five-fold blazon :-Not too fast :-soft! Oli. Give us the place alone : we will hear this
soft! divinity. (Exit Maria.] Now, sir, what is your Unless the master were the man.--How now? text?
Even so quickly may one catch the plague? Vio. Most sweet lady,
Methinks, I feel this youth's perfections, Oli. A comfortable doctrine, and much may be With an invisible and subtle stealth, said of it. Where lies your text ?
To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be. Vio. In Orsino's bosom.
What, ho, Malvolio ! Oli. In his bosom? In what chapter of his bosom?
Re-enter Malvolio. Vio. To answer by the method, in the first of his Mal.
Here, madam, at your service. heart.
Oli. Run after that same peevish messenger, Oli, O, I have read it; it is heresy. Have you The county's man: he left this ring behind him, no more to say ?
Would I, or not; tell him, 1'11 none of it. Vio. Good madam, let me see your face.
Desire him not to flatter with his lord, Oli. Have you any commission from your lord to Nor hold him up with hopes; I am not for him: negociate with my face ? you are now out of your If that the youth will come this way to-morrow, text: but we will draw the curtain, and show you I'll give him reasons for't. Hie thee, Malvolio. the picture. Look you, sir, such an one as I was Mal. Madam, I will.
(Erit. this present. Is't not well done? [Unveiling. oli. I do I know not what: and fear to find Vio. Excellently done, if God did all.
Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind. Oli. 'Tis in grain, sir; 'twill endure wind and Fate, show thy force: Ourselves we do not owe; weather.
What is decreed, must be ; and be this so! [Erit. Vio. 'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on:
SCENE I.-The Sea-coast.
Enter Antonio and Sebastian. oli. 0, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will Ant. Will you stay no longer ? nor will you not give out divers schedules of my beauty : It shall that I go with yon ? be inventoried; and every particle, and utensil, Seb. By your patience, no: my stars shine darkly labelled to my will: as, item, two lips indifferent over me; the malignancy of my fate might, per.
haps, distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of And I, poor monster, fond as much on him ;
My state is desperate for my master's love;
What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe? Seb. No, 'sooth, Sir; my determinate voyage is O time, thou must untangle this, not I; mere extravagancy. But I perceive in you so ex. It is too hard a knot for me to untie. [Exit. cellent a touch of modesty, that you will not extort
SCENE III.-A Room in Olivia's House. from me what I am willing to keep in; therefore it charges me in manners the rather to express my- Enter Sir Toby Belch and Sir Andrew Ague-cheek. self. You must know of me then, Antonio, my sir To Approach, sir Andrew : not to be a-bed name is Sebastian, which I called Rodorigo ; my Laftar
after midnight, is to be up betimes; and diluculo father, was that Sebastian of Messaline, whom I
surgere, thou know'st, know, you have heard of: he left behind him, my-l's
Sir And. Nay, by my troth, I know not: but I self, and a sister, both born in an hour. If the
know, to be up late, is to be up late. heavens had been pleased, 'would we had so ended!
Sir To. A false conclusion; I hate it as an un. but, you, sir, altered that; for, some hour before
berore filled can: To be up after midnight, and to go to you took me from the breach of the sea, was my hed then is early so that. to go to bed after midsister drowned.
night, is to go to bed betimes. Do not our lives Ant. Alas, the day!
consist of the four elements ? Seb. A lady, sir, though it was said she much re
Sir And. 'Faith, so they say ; but, I think, it ra. sembled me, was yet of many accounted beautiful :
1:ther consists of eating and drinking but, though I could not, with such estimable won
Sir To. Thou art a scholar; let us therefore eat der, overfar believe that, yet thus far I will boldly and de
and drink.-Marian, I say a stoop of wine ! publish her, she bore a mind that envy could not but call fair she is drowned already, sir, with salt
Enter Clown. water, though I seem to drown her remembrance
Sir And. Here comes the fool, i' faith. again with more.
Clo. How now, my hearts ? Did you never see Ant. Pardon me, sir, your bad entertainment. Seb. 0. good Antonio, forgive me your trouble.
the picture of we three ?
Sir To. Welcome ass. Now let's have a catch. Ant. If you will not murder me for my love, let Sir And. By my troth, the fool has an excellent me be your servant.
breast. I had rather than forty shillings I had such Seb. If you will not undo what you have done,
a leg; and so sweet a breath to sing, as the fool has. that is, kill him whom yuu have recovered, desire it
In sooth, thou wast in very gracious fooling last not. Fare ye well at once: my bosom is full of
night, when thou spokest of Pigrogromitus, of the kindness: and I am yet so near the manners of my
Vapians passing the equinoctial of Queubus; 'twas mother, that upon the least occasion more, mine
ne very good, i' faith. I sent thee sixpence for thy leeyes will tell tales of me. I am bound to the count Orsino's court : farewell.
man : Hadst it? (Erit.
Clo. I did impeticos thy gratillity; for Malvolio's Ant. The gentleness of all the gods go with thee!
nose is no whipstock : My lady has a white hand, I have many enemies in Orsino's court,
and the Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses. Else would I very shortly see thee there :
Sir And. Excellent! Why, this is the best fool. But, come what may, I do adore thee so,
ing, when all is done. Now, a song. That danger shall seem sport, and I will go. (Exit.
Sir To. Come on; there is sixpence for you: let's
have a song. SCENE II.-A Street.
Sir And. There's a testril of me too: if one Enter Viola ; Malvolio following.
knight give a
Cio. Would you have a love-song, or a song of Nal. Were not you even now with the countess
good life? Olivia ?
Sir To. A love-song, a love song. Vio. Even now, sir; on a moderate pace I have since arrived but hither.
Sir And. Ay, ay ; I care not for good life. Mal. She returns this ring to you, sir ; you might
SONG. have saved me my pains, to have taken it away
Clo. O mistress mine, where are you roaming ? yourself. She adds moreover, that you should put
O, stay and hear : your true love's coming, your lord into a desperate assurance she will none
That can sing both high and low : of him: And one thing more; that you be never
Trip no further pretty speeting ; So hardy to come acain in his affairs, unless it be
Journeys end in lovers' meeting, to report your lord's taking of this. Receive it so.
Every wise man's son doth know.
Sir And. Excellent good, i' faith. and her will is, it should be so returned : if it be
Sir To. Good, good. Worth stooping for, there it lies in your eye; if not, Clo. What is love? 'tis not hereafter; be it his that finds it.
Present mirth hath present laughter; Vio. I left no ring with her: What means this lady?
What's to come, is still unsure : Fortune forbid, my outside have not charm'd her!
In delay there lies no plenty: She made good view of me; indeed, so much,
Then cime kiss me, sweet-and-twenty,
Youth's a stuff will not endure.
Sir And. A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight. Invites me in this churlish messenger.
Sir To. A contagious breath. None of my lord's ring! why, he sent her none. Sir And. Very sweet and contagious, i' faith. I am the man ;-If it be so, (as 'tis,)
Sir To. To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in conPoor lady, she were better love a dream.
tagion. But shall we make the welkin dance in. Disguise, I see, thou art a wickedness,
deed ? Shall we rouse the night-owl in a catch, Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.
that will draw three souls out of one weaver ? shall How easy is it, for the proper-false
we do that? In women's waxen hearts to set their forms!
Sir And. An you love me, let's do't: I am dog Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we;
at a catch. Por, such as we are made of, such we be.
Clo. By'r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well. How will this fadge? My master loves her dearly; ! Sir And. Most certain : let our catch be, Thou knave. Clo. Hold thy peace, thou knave, knight? I shall |tion, do not think I have wit enough to lie straight be constrain'd in't to call thee knave, knight. in my bed: I know, I can do it.
Sir Anil. "Tis not the first time I have constrain'd Sir To. l'ossess us, possess us ; tell us something one to call me knave. Begin, fool; it begins, Hold of him. thy peace.
Mar. Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of Cio. I shall never begin, if I hold my peace. Puritan. Sir And. Good, i'faith! Come, begin.
! Sir And. O, if I thought that, I'd beat him like [They sing a catch. a dog.
| Sir To. What, for being a Puritan? thy exquisite Enter Maria.
reason, dear knight?
Sir And. I have no exquisite reason for't, but I Mar. What a catterwauling do you keep here! have reason good enough. If my lady have not called up her steward, Mal- Mar. The devil a Puritan that he is, or any volio, and bid him turn you out of doors, never I thing constantly but a time pleaser: an affection'd trust me. Sir To. My lady's a Cataian, we are politicians ; great swarths: the best persuaded of himself, so
ass, that cons state without book, and utters it by Malvolio's a Peg-a-Ramsay, and Three merry men crammed, as he thinks with excellencies, that it is be we. Am not I consanguineous ? am I not of her his ground of faith, that all that look on him. love blood ? Tilly-valley, lady! There dweli a man in him; and on that vice in him will my revenge find Babylon, lady, lady!
Singing. notable cause to work. Clo. Beshrew me, the knight's in admirable fool
Sir To. What wilt thou do? ing.
Mar. I will drop in his way some obscure epistles Sir And. Ay, he does well enough, if he be dis-loft posed, and so do I too; he does it with a better shape of his leg, the manner of his gait, the ex
dis- of love; wherein, by the colour of his beard, the grace, but I do it more natural.
pressure of his eye, forehead, and complexion, he Sir To. 0, the twelfth day of December,
shall find himself most feelingly personated : I can
Singing write very like my lady, your niece; on a forgotten Mar. For the love o'God, peace.
matter we can hardly make distinction of our
hands. Enter Malvolio.
Sir To. Excellent! I smell a device. Mal. My masters, are you mad? or what are Sir And. I have't in my nose too. you? Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty, but Sir To. He shall think, by the letters that thou to gabble like tinkers at this time of night? Do ye wilt drop, that they come from my niece, and that make an alehouse of my lady's house, that ye squeak she is in love with him. out your coziers' catches without any mitigation or Mar. My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that remorse of voice? Is there no respect of place, colour persons, nor time, in you?
| Sir And. And your horse now would make him Sir To. We did keep time, sir, in our catches. an ass. Sneck up!
Mar. Ass, I doubt not. Mal. Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My Sir And. 0, 'twill be admirable. lady bade me tell you, that though she harbours Mar, Sport royal, I warrant you: I know, my you as her kinsman, she's nothing allied to your dis- physick will work with him. I will plant you two, orders. If you can separate yourself and your mis- and let the fool make a third, where he shall find the demeanours, you are welcome to the house; if not, letter; observe his construction of it. For this night, an it would please you to take leave of her, she is to bed, and dream on the event. Farewell. Erit. very willing to bid you farewell.
Sir To. Good night, Penthesilea. Sir To. Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs Sir And. Before me, she's a good wench. be gone.
Sir To. She's a beagle, true bred, and one that Mar. Nay, good sir Toby.
adores me; What o'that? Clo. His eyes do sher his days are almost done. Sir And. I was adored once too. Mal. Is't even so ?
Sir To. Let's to bed, knight.--Thou hadst need Sir To. But I will never die.
send for more money. Clo, Sir Toby, there you lie.
| Sir And. If I cannot recover your niece, I am a Mal. This is much credit to you.
foul way out. Sir To. Shall I bid him yo?
[Singing. Sir To. Send for money, knight; if thou hast her Clo. What an if you do?
not i'the end, call me Cut. Sir To. Shall I bid him go, and spare not !
Sir And. If I do not, never trust me, take it how Clo. O no, no, no, no, you dare not.
you will Sir To. Out o'time? sir, ye lie.-Art any more Sir To. Come, come; I'll go burn some sack, 'tis than a steward ? Dost thou think, because thou art too late to go to bed now: come, knight ; come, virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale ? knight.
[Exeunt Clo. Yes, by Saint Anne; and ginger shall be hot i'the mouth too.
SCENE IV.--A Room in the Duke's Palace. Sir To. Thou'rt i'the right.-Go, sir, rub your
Enter Duke, Viola, Curio, and others. chain with crums:-A stoop of wine, Maria!
Mal. Mistress Mary, if you priz'd my lady's fa- Duke. Give me some musick :-Now, good mor vour at any thing more than contempt, you would
row, friends : not give means for this uncivil rule; she shall know Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song, of it, by this hand.
Erit. I That old and antique song we heard last night; Mar. Go shake your ears.
Methought, it did relieve my pssion much Sir And. "Twere as good a deed as to drink when More than light airs and recollected terms, a man's a hungry, to challenge him to the field; and Of these most brisk and giddy paced times: then to break promise with him, and make a fool Come, but one verse. of him.
| Cur. He is not here, so please your lordship, that Sir To. Do't knight; I'll write thee a challenge ; should sing it. or I'll deliver thy indignation to him by word of Duke. Who was it? mouth.
| Cur. Feste, the jester, my lord ; a fool, that the Mar. Sweet sir Toby, be patient for to-night; lady Olivia's father took much delight in: he is since the youth of the count's was to-day with my about the house. lady, she is much out of quiet. For monsieur Mal. Duke. Seek him out, and play the tune the while. volio, let me alone with him : if I do not gull him
Éxit Curio.--Musick. into a nayword, and make him a common recrea-Corne hither, boy; If ever thou shalt love,
In the sweet pangs of it, remember me :
Bit 'tis that miracle, and queen of gems, For, such as I am, all true lovers are ;
That nature pranbs her ini, attracts my soul. Unstaid and skittish in all motions else,
Vio But, if she cannot love you, sir? Save, in the constant image of the creature
Duke. I caunot be so answered. That is belov'd.-How dost thou like this tune? Vio.
'Sooth, but you must. Vio. It gives a very echo to the seat
Say, that some lady, as, perhaps, there is, Where Love is thron'd.
Hath for your love as grent a pang of heart Duke. Thou dost speak masterly.
As you have for Olivia : you cannot love her: My life upon't, young though thou art, thine eye You tell her so: Must she not then be answered ? Hath stay'd upon some favour that it loves ;
Duke. 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 Duke. What kind of woman is't?
So big, to hold so much ; they lack retention. of your complexion. Alas, their love may be called appetite, Duke. She is not worth thee then. What years, No motion of the liver, but the palate, Vio. About your years, my lord. [i'iaith? That suffer surfeit, cloyment, and revolt; Duke. Too old, liy heaven; Let still the woman But mine is all as hungry as the sea, An elder than herself ; so wears she to hiin, (take And can digest as much : make no compare So sways she level in her husband's heart.
Between that love & woman can bear me, For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,
And that I owe Olivia. Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,
Ay, but I know,
l'io Too well what love women to men may owe: Vio.
I think it well, my lord. In faith, they are as true of heart as we.
As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman,
And what's her history? Vio. And so they are: alas, that they are so ; Vio. A blank, my lord : She never told her love, To die, even when they to perfection grow!
But let concealment, like a worm i'the bud,
Feed on her damask cheek : she pind in thought; Re-enter Curio and Clown.
And, with a green and yellow melancholy, Duke. ( fellow, come, the song we had last
She sat like patience on a monument, Mark it, Cesario; it is old and plain : [night:
Smiling at grief. Was not this love, indeed ?" The spinsters and the knitters in the sun,
We men may say more, swear more: but, indeed, And the free maids, that weave their thread with
Our shows are more than will; for still we prove Do use to chant it ; it is silly sooth, (bones,
Much in our vow's, but little in our love And dallies with the innocence of love,
Duke. But died thy sister of her love, my boy? Like the old age.
Vio I am all the daughters of my father's house, Clo. Are you ready, sir?
And all the brothers too ;-and yet I know not.Duke. dy; pr'ythee, sing.
Musich. Sir, shall I to this lady?
Ay, that's the theme.
To her in haste; give her this jewel; say,
My love can give no place, bide no denay. (Exeunt.
SCENE V.-Olivia's Garden.
Enter Sir Toby Belch, Sir Andrew Ague cheek, I am slain by a fuir cruel maid.
and Fabian. My shroud of white, stuck all with yen,
Sir To. Come thy ways, signior Fabian 0, prepare it ;
Fab. Nay, I'll come ; if I lose a scruple of this Hly part of death no one so true Did share it.
| sport, let me be boiled to death with melancholy.
Sir To. Would'st thou not be glad to have the Not a flower, not a Noner sweet,
niggardly rascally sheep-biter come by some notis. On my black cojin let there be strown;
Fab. I would exult, man: you know, he brought Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thronn. me out of favour with my lady, about a bear-baitA thousand thousand sighs to save,
ing here. Lay me, 0, where
Sir To. To anger him, we'll have the bear again, Sad true lover never find my grave,
and we will fool him black and blue :-Shall we To weep there.
pot, sir Audrew ?
Sir And. An we do not, it is pity of our lives. Duke. There's for thy pains. Clo. No pains, sir; I take pleasure in singing, sir.
Enter Maria. Duke. 1'11 pav thy pleasure then.
Sir To. Here comes the little villain :-How ('lo. Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid, une now, my nettle of India ? time or another.
Mar. Get ye all three into the box-tree: Malvo. Bruke. Give me now leave to leave thee.
lio's coming down this walk; he has been yonder Clo. Now, the melancholy god protect thee; and i'the sun, practising behaviour to his own shadow, the tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffeta, for this half hour: observe him, for the love of mockthy mind is a very opal!--I would have men of | ery; for, I know, this letter will make a contemsuch constancy plit to sea, that their business might plative idiot of him. Close, in the name of jesting! be every thing, and their intent every where ; for i The men hide themselves) Lie thou there ; [throws that's it that always makes a good voyage of no- down a letter.) for here comes the trout that must thing - Farewell. [Exit Clown. be caught with tickling.
[Exit Maria. Duke. Let all the rest give place.--
Enter Malvolio. (Exeunt Curio and Attendants.
Once more, Cesario, Mal. 'Tis but fortune ; all is fortune. Maria Get thee to yon' same sovereign cruelty :
once told me, slie did affect me: and I have heard Tell her, my love, more noble than the world, herself come thus near, that, should she fancy, it Prizes not quantity of dirty lands;
should be one of my complexion. Besides, she uses The parts that fortune hath bestow'd upon her, me with a more exalted respect, than any one else Tell her, I hold as giddily as fortune ;
that follows her. What should I think on't?