Oli. Give me leave, 'beseech you: I did send,
After the last enchantment you did here,1
A ring in chase of you; so did I abuse
Myself, my servant, and, I fear me, you:
Under your hard construction must I sit,

To force that on you, in a shameful cunning,

Sir And. As plain as I see you now.
Fab. This was a great argument of love in her
toward you.

Sir And. 'Slight! will you make an ass o'me?
Fab. I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths

Which you knew none of yours: What might you of judgment and reason.
think?

Have you not set mine honour at the stake,
And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts
That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your
receiving2

Enough is shown; a cyprus, not a bosom,
Hides my heart: So let me hear you speak.
Vio. I pity you.

Oli. That's a degree to love..

Vio. No, not a grise; for 'tis a vulgar proof,
That very oft we pity enemies.

Oli. Why, then, methinks, 'tis time to smile again;
O world, how apt the poor are to be proud!
If one should be a prey, how much the better
To fall before the lion, than the wolf?

[Clock strikes.
The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.-
Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you:
And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest,
Your wife is like to reap a proper man:
There lies your way, due west.

Vio.
Then westward-hoe:
Grace and good disposition 'tend your ladyship!
You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?

Oli. Stay:

I pr'ythee, tell me, what thou think'st of me.
Vio. That you do think, you are not what you are.
Oli. If I think so, I think the same of you.
Vio. Then think you right; I am not what I am.
Oli. I would you were as I would have you be!
Vio. Would it be better, madam, than I am,
I wish it might; for now I am your fool.

Oli. O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
In the contempt and anger of his lip!

A murd'rous guilt shows not itself more soon
Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon.
Cesario, by the roses of the spring,

By maidhood, honour, truth, and every thing,
I love thee so, that, maugres all thy pride,
Nor wit, nor reason, can my passion hide.
Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,
For, that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause:
But, rather, reason thus with reason fetter:
Love sought is good, but given unsought, is better.
Vio. By innocence I swear, and by my youth,
I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth,
And that no woman has; nor never none
Shall mistress be of it, save I alone.
And so adieu, good madam; never more
Will I my master's tears to you deplore.

Oli. Yet come again: for thou, perhaps, mays't

Sir To. And they have been grand jury-men, since before Noah was a sailor.

Fab. She did show favour to the youth in your sight, only to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse valour, to put fire in your heart, and brimstone in your liver: You should then have accosted her; and with some excellent jests, fire-new from the mint, you should have banged the youth into dumbness. This was looked for at your hand, and this was baulked: the double gilt of this opportunity you let time wash off, and you are now sailed into the north of my lady's opinion; where you will hang like an icicle on a Dutchman's beard, unless you do redeem it by some laudable attempt, either of valour, or policy.

Sir And. And't be any way, it must be with valour; for policy I hate: I had as lief be a Brownist as a politician.

Sir To. Why then, build me thy fortunes upon the basis of valour. Challenge me the count's youth to fight with him; hurt him in eleven places; my niece shall take note of it: and assure thyself, there is no love-broker in the world can more prevail in man's commendation with woman, than report of valour.

Fab. There is no way but this, Sir Andrew. Sir And. Will either of you bear me a challenge to him?

Sir To. Go, write it in a martial hand; be curst" and brief; it is no matter how witty, so it be eloquent, and full of invention: taunt him with the licence of ink: if thou thou'st him some thrice, it shall not be amiss; and as many lies as will lie in thy sheet of paper, although the sheet were big enough for the bed of Ware in England, set 'em down; go, about it. Let there be gall enough in thy ink; though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter:

About it.

Sir And. Where shall I find you?

Sir To. We'll call thee at the cubiculo:11 Go. [Exit SIR ANDREW. Fab. This is a dear manakin to you, Sir Toby. Sir To. I have been dear to him, lad; some twc thousand strong, or so.

Fab. We shall have a rare letter from him: but you'll not deliver it.

Sir To. Never trust me then! and by all means stir on the youth to an answer. I think, oxen and wainropes cannot hale them together. For Andrew, if he were opened, and you find so much blood in his liver as will clog the foot of a flea, I'll eat the rest of the anatomy.

Fab. And his opposite, 13 the youth, bears in his visage no great presage of cruelty. Enter MARIA.

Sir To. Look, where the youngest wren of nine11 comes.

Mar. If you desire the spleen, and will laugh 8 'Be curst and brief. Curst is cross, froward, petulant.

9 Shakspeare is thought to have had Lord Coke in his mind, whose virulent abuse of Sir Walter Raleigh on his trial was conveyed in a series of thou's. His resentment against the flagrant conduct of the attorney general on this occasion was probably heightened by the contemptuous manner in which he spoke of players in his charge at Norwich, and the severity he was always willing to exert against them.

10 This curious piece of furniture was a few years since still in being at one of the inns in that town. It was reported to be twelve feet square, and capable of holding twenty-four persons.

11 Chamber. 12 Wagon ropes. 13 i. e. adversary. 14 The wren generally lays nine or ten eggs, and the

Lut. To the Elephant.-
Seb.

I do remember,

[Exeunt.

yourselves to stitches follow me: yon' gull Mal-| volio is turned heathen, a very renegado; for there is no Christian, that means to be saved by believing rightly, can ever believe such impossible passages SCENE IV. Olivia's Garden. Enter OLIVIA of grossness. He's in yellow stockings.

Sir To. And cross-gartered?

Mar. Most villanously; like a pedant that keeps
a school i'the church.-I have dogged him, like his
murderer: He does obey every point of the letter
that I dropped to betray him. He does smile his
face into more lines, than are in the new map, with
the augmentation of the Indies: you have not seen
such a thing as 'tis; I can hardly forbear hurling
things at him. I know, my lady will strike him; if
she do, he'll smile, and take't for a great favour.
Sir To. Come, bring us, bring us where he is.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III. A Street. Enter ANTONIO and
SEBASTIAN.

Seb. I would not, by my will, have troubled
you;
But, since you make your pleasure of your pains,
I will no further chide you.

Ant. I could not stay behind you; my desire,
More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth;
And not all love to see you (though so much
As might have drawn one to a longer voyage),
But jealousy what might befall your travel,
Being skilless in these parts: which, to a stranger,
Unguided and unfriended, often prove
Rough and unhospitable: My willing love,
The rather by these arguments of fear,
Set forth in your pursuit.

My kind Antonio,

Seb.
I can no other answer make, but, thanks,
And thanks, and ever thanks: Often good turns
Are shuffled off with such uncurrent pay:
But, were my worth,2 as is my conscience, firm,
You should find better dealing. What's to do?
Shall we go see the reliques of this town?

Ant. To-morrow, sir; best, first, go see your
lodging.

Seb. I am not weary, and 'tis long to night;
I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes'

With the memorials, and the things of fame,
That do renown this city.

Ant.

Would you'd pardon me ;
I do not without danger walk these streets:
Once, in a sea-fight, 'gainst the Count his galleys,
I did some service; of such note, indeed,
That, were I ta'en here, it would scarce be answer'd.
Seb. Belike, you slew great number of his people.
Ant. The offence is not of such a bloody nature;
Albeit the quality of the time, and quarrel,
Might well have given us bloody argument.
It might have since been answer'd in repaying
What we took from them; which, for traffic's sake,
Most of our city did: only myself stood out:
For which, if I be lapsed in this place,

I shall pay dear.

Seb.

Do not then waik too open.

Ant. It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here's my purse:

In the south suburbs, at the Elephant,

Is best to lodge; I will bespeak our diet,
Whiles you beguile the time, and feed your know-
ledge,

With viewing of the town; there shall you have me.
Seb. Why I your purse?

Ant. Haply, your eye shall light upon some toy
You have desire to purchase; and your store,
I think, is not for idle markets, sir.

Seb. I'll be your purse-bearer, and leave you for
An hour.

and MARIA.

Oli. I have sent after him: He says he'll come:
How shall I feast him? what bestow on him?
For youth is bought more oft, than begg'd, or bor-
row'd.

I

speak too loud.

Where is Malvolio?-he is sad, and civil,4
And suits well for a servant with my fortunes ;-
Where is Malvolio?

Mar. He's coming, madam; but in very strange manner. He is sure possessed, madam.

Oli. Why, what's the matter? does he rave? Mar. No, madam, he does nothing but smile. your ladyship were best to have some guard about you, if he come; for, sure, the man is tainted in his wits.

Oli. Go call him hither.-I'm as mad as he, If sad and merry madness equal be.

Enter MALVOLIO.

How now, Malvolio!

Mar. Sweet lady, ho, ho. [Smiles fantastically.
Oli. Smil'st thou?

I sent for thee upon a sad occasion.

Mal. Sad, lady? I could be sad: This does make some obstruction in the blood, this cross-gartering: But what of that, if it please the eye of one, it is with me as the very true sonnet is: Please one, and please all.

Oli. Why, how dost thou, man? what is the matter with thee?

Mal. Not black in my mind, though yellow in my legs. It did come to his hands, and commands shall be executed. I think, we do know the sweet Roman hand.

Oli. Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio?

Mal. To bed? ay, sweet-heart; and I'll come to thee.

Oli. God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so, and kiss thy hand so oft?

Mar. How do you, Malvolio?

Mal. At your request? Yes; Nightingales answer daws.

Mar. Why appear you with this ridiculous holdness before my lady?

Mal. Be not afraid of greatness :-'Twas well writ.

Oli. What meanest thou by that, Malvolio?
Mal. Some are born great,

Oli. Ha?

Mal. If not, let me see thee a servant still.
Oli. Why, this is very midsummer madness.
Enter Servant.

Ser. Madam, the young gentleman of the count Orsino's is returned; I could hardly entreat him back: he attends your ladyship's pleasure.

3 Lapsed, for lupsing or transgressing. See note on Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 4. he is sad and civil? That is serious and

46

grave, or solemn. Thus in Romeo and Juliet:-
-Come, civil night,
Thou sober-suite i matron, all in black."

5 Grave.

6 Tis midsummer moon with you' was a proverbial phrase signifying you are mad. It was an ar jent opi nion that hot weather affected the brain.

Oli. I'll come to him. [Exit Servant.] Good Maria, let this fellow be looked to. Where's my cousin Toby? Let some of my people have a special care of him; I would not have him miscarry for the half of my dowry.

Fab. If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction.

Sir To. His very genius hath taken the infection of the device, man.

Mar. Nay, pursue him now; lest the device take air, and taint.

Fab. Why, we shall make him mad, indeed.
Mar. The house will be the quieter.

[Exeunt OLIVIA and MARIA. Mal. Oh, ho! do you come near me now? no worse man than Sir Toby to look to me? This concurs directly with the letter: she sends him on pur- Sir To. Come, we'll have him in a dark room, pose, that I may appear stubborn to him; for she and bound. My niece is already in the belief that incites me to that in the letter. Cast thy humble he is mad; we may carry it thus, for our pleasure, slough, says she; be opposite wih a kinsman, surly and his penance, till our very pastime, tired out of with servants,-let thy tongue tang with arguments breath, prompt us to have mercy on him: at which of state,-put thyself into the trick of singularity;-time, we will bring the device to the bar, and crown and, consequently, sets down the manner how; as, thee for a finder of madmen. But see, but see. a sad face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in have the habit of some sir of note, and so forth. limed her; but it is Jove's doing, and Jove make me thankful! And, when she went away now, Let this fellow be looked to: Fellow!2 not Malvolio, nor after my degree, but fellow. Why every thing adheres together; that no dram of a scruple, no scruple of a scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous or unsafe circumstance,-What can be said? Nothing that can be, can come between me and the full prospect of my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked.

1

Re-enter MARIA, with SIR TOBY BELCH and
FABIAN.

Sir To. Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all the devils in hell be drawn in little, and Legion himself possessed him, yet I'll speak to him. Fab. Here he is, here he is :-How is't with you, sir? how is't with you, man?

Mal. Go off: I discard you; let me enjoy my private; go off.

Mar. Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did not I tell you?-Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a care of him.

Mal. Ah, ha! does she so?

Sir To. Go to, go to; peace, peace, we must deal gently with him; let me alone. How do you, Malvolio? how is't with you? What man! defy the devil; consider, he's an enemy to mankind.

Mal. Do you know what you say?
Mar. La you, an you speak ill of the devil, how
he takes it at heart! Pray God, he be not bewitched!
Fab. Carry his water to the wise woman.
Mar. Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow
morning, if I live. My lady would not lose him for
more than I'll say.

Mal. How now, mistress?
Mar. O lord!

Sir To. Pr'ythee, hold thy peace; this is not the way: Do you not see, you move him; let me alone with him.

Fab. No way but gentleness; gently, gently; the fiend is rough, and will not be roughly used. Sir To. Why, how now, my bawcock ? dost thou, chuck?

Mal, Sir?

how

Enter SIR ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK.
Fab. More matter for a May morning."
Sir And. Here's the challenge, read it; I war-
rant there's vinegar and pepper in't.
Fab. Is't so saucy?

Sir And. Ay is it, I warrant him; do but read.
Sir To. Give me. [Reads.] Youth, whatsoever
thou art, thou art but a scurvy fellow.
Fab. Good, and valiant.

Sir To. Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind, why I do call thee so, for I will show thee no reason for't.

Fab. A good note: that keeps you from the blow of the law.

Sir To. Thou comest to the lady Olivia, and in my sight she uses thee kindly but thou liest in thy throat, that is not the matter Ï challenge thee for.

Fab. Very brief, and exceeding good sense-less. Sir To. I will way-lay thee going home; where if it be thy chance to kill me,-

Fab. Good.

Sir To. Thou killest me like a rogue and a villain. Fab. Still you keep o'the windy side of the law: Good.

Sir To. Fare thee well: And God have mercy upon one of our souls! He may have mercy upon mine; but my hope is better, and so look to thyself. Thy friend, as thou usest him, and thy sworn enemy.ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK.

Sir To. If this letter move him not, his legs cannot: I'll give't him.

Mar. You may have very fit occasion for't; he is now in some commerce with my lady, and will by and by depart.

Sir To. Go, Sir Andrew; scout me for him at the corner of the orchard, like a bum-bailiff: so soon as ever thou seest him, draw; and, as thou drawest, swear horrible; for it comes to pass oft, that a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent, sharply twanged off, gives manhood more approba tion than ever proof itself would have earned him. Away.

Sir And. Nay, let me alone for swearing. [Exit. Sir To. Now will I not deliver his letter: for the behaviour of the young gentleman gives him out to be of good capacity and breeding; his employment between his lord and my niece confirms no less; therefore this letter, being so excellently ignorant, will breed no terror in the youth, he will find it comes from a clodpole. But, sir, I will deliver his challenge by word of mouth; set upon Ague-cheek a notable report of valour; and drive the gentleman (as I know his youth will aptly receive it) into a most hideous opinion of his rage, skill, fury, and

Mal. Go, hang yourselves all! you are idle shal-impetuosity. This will so fright them both, that low things: I am not of your element; you shall they will kill one another by the look, like cockaknow more hereafter.

Sir To. Is't possible?

1 Caught her as a bird with birdlime.

[Exit. trices.

2 Malvolio takes the word in its old favourable sense of companion.

3 See Winter's Tale, Act i. Sc. 5. 4 A play among boys.

5 Collier was in Shakspeare's time a term of the highest reproach. The coal venders were in bad repute, not only from the blackness of their appearance, but that many of thom were also great cheats. The

devil is called collier for his blackness. Hence the pro-
verb Like will to like, as the devil with the collier.
6 The reason for putting him in a dark room was to
make him believe he was mad, a mad house seems for.
merly to have been called a dark house.

7 It was usual on the First of May to exhibit metrical interludes of the comic kind, as well as other sports, such as the Morris Dance.

8 Adjectives are often used by Shakspeare and his cotemporaries adverbially.

Enter OLIVIA and VIOLA.

Fab. Here he comes with your niece: give them
way, till he take leave, and presently after him.
Sir To. I will meditate the while upon some hor-
rid message or a challenge.

[Exeunt SIR TOBY, FABIAN, and MARIA.
Oli. I have said too much unto a heart of stone,
And laid mine honour too unchary' out:
There's something in me, that reproves my fault;
But such a headstrong potent fault it is,
That it but mocks reproof.

Sir To. I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by this gentleman till my return. [Exit SIR TOBY.: Vio. Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter? Fab. I know the knight is incensed against you, even to a mortal arbitrement; but nothing of the circumstance more.

Vio. I beseech you, what manner of man is he? Fab. Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read him by his form, as you are like to find him in the proof of his valour. He is, indeed, sir, the most skilful, bloody, and fatal opposite that you could you walk towards him? I will make your peace with him, if I can.

Vio. With the same 'haviour that your passion possibly have found in any part of Illyria: Will

bears,

Go on my master's griefs.

Oli. Here, wear this jewel for me, 'tis my pic

I will acquit you.

Oli. Well, come again to-morrow: Fare thee
well;

A fiend, like thee, might bear my soul to hell. [Exit.
Re-enter SIR TOBY BELCH and FABIAN.
Sir To. Gentleman, God save thee.
Vio. And you, sir.

Sir To. That defence thou hast, betake thee to't: of what nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know not; but thy intercepter, full of despight, bloody as the hunter, attends thee at the orchard end: dismount thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation, for thy assailant is quick, skilful, and deadly.

Vio. You mistake, sir; I am sure no man hath any quarrel to me; my remembrance is very free and clear from any image of offence done to any man. Sir To. You'll find it otherwise, I assure you: therefore, if you hold your life at any price, betake you to your guard; for your opposite hath in him what youth, strength, skill, and wrath, can furnish man withal.

Vio. I pray you, sir, what is he?

Sir To. He is knight, dubbed with unhatched rapier, and on carpet consideration; but he is a devil in private brawl: souls and bodies hath he divorced three; and his incensement at this moment is so implacable, that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death and sepulchre: hob, nob, is his word; give't, or take't.

Vio. I will return again into the house, and desire some conduct of the lady. I am no fighter. I have heard of some kind of men, that put quarrels purposely on others, to taste their valour: belike, this is a man of that quirk."

Sir To. Sir, no; his indignation derives itself out of a very competent injury; therefore, get you on, and give him his desire. Back you shall not to the house, unless you undertake that with me, which with as much safety you might answer him: therefore on, or strip your sword stark naked; for meddle you must, that's certain, or forswear to wear iron about you.

Vio. This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you, do me this courteous office, as to know of the knight what my offence to him is; it is something of my negligence, nothing of my purpose.

1 Uncautiously.

2 Jewel anciently signified any precious ornament of superfluity. 3 Rapier. 4 Ready, nimble.

5 i. e. he is a carpet-knight not dubbed in the field, but on some peaceable occasion; unhatch'd was probably used in the sense of unhack'd. But perhaps we should read an hatch'd rapier, i. e. a rapier the hilt of which was enriched with silver or gold.

6 A corruption most probably of hab or nab: have or have not, hit or miss at a venture. Quasi, have, or wave, 1. e. have not, from the Saxon habban, to have;

Vio. I shall be much bound to you for't: I am one, that would rather go with sir priest, than sir knight: I care not who knows so much of my met[Exeunt.

tle.

Re-enter SIR TOBY, with SIR ANDREW.
Sir To. Why, man, he's a very devil;1o I have
not seen such a firago. I had a pass with him,
rapier, scabbard, and all, and he gives me the stuck-
in,12 with such a mortal motion, that it is inevitable;
and on the answer, he pays you as surely as your
feet hit the ground they step on: They say, he has
been fencer to the Sophy.

Sir And. Pox on't, I'll not meddle with him.
Sir To. Ay, but he will not now be pacified;
Fabian can scarce hold him yonder.

Sir And. Plague on't: an I thought he had been valiant and so cunning in fence, I'd have seen him damned ere I'd have challenged him. Let him let the matter slip, and I'll give him my horse, grey Capilet.

Sir To. I'll make the motion: stand here, make a good show on't; this shall end without the perdi tion of souls: Marry, I'll ride your horse as well as I ride you. [Aside,

I

I

Re-enter FABIAN and VIOLA.

have his horse [to FAB.] to take up the quarrel; have persuaded him, the youth's a devil.

Fab. He is as horribly conceited' of him; and pants, and looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels.

Sir To. There's no remedy, sir; he will fight with you for his oath's sake: marry, he hath better bethought him of his quarrel, and he finds that now scarce to be worth talking of: therefore draw, for the supportance of his vow; he protests, he will not hurt you.

Vio. Pray God defend me! A little thing would make me tell them how much I lack of a man.

[Aside.

Fab. Give ground, if you see him furious.* Sir To. Come, Sir Andrew, there's no remedy; the gentleman will, for his honour's sake, have one bout with you; he cannot by the duello avoid it; but he has promised me, as he is a gentleman and a soldier, he will not hurt you. Come on: to't. Sir And. Pray God, he keep his oath! [Draws, Enter ANTONIO.

Vio. I do assure you, 'tis against my will,

[Draws, Ant. Put up your sword ;-If this young gentle

man

Have done offence, I take the fault on me;
If you offend him, I for him defy you.

Drawing

Sir To. You, sir? why, what are you?
Ant. One sir, that for his love dares yet do more
Than you have heard him brag to you he will.

nabban, not to have. So, in Holinshed's description of
Ireland, The citizens in their rage shot habbe or nabbe,ꞌ
7 Sort. 8 Decision. 9 Adversary.
10 Shakspeare may have caught a hint for this scene
from the behaviour of Sir John Dow and Sir A. La Foole
in Jonson's Silent Woman, which was printed ir 1609.
11 Firago, for virago. The meaning appears to be, I
have never seen the most furious woman so obstrepe..
rous and violent as he is.

12 A corruption of stoccata, an Italian term in fencing
13 i. e. hits you.

14 He has a horrid conception of him,

15 Laws of duel