Duke. Still so cruel? Oli. Still so constant, lord. Duke. What! to perverseness? you uncivil lady, To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars My soul the faithfull'st offerings hath breath'd out, Oli. Even what it please my lord, that shall become him. Duke. Why should I not, had I the heart to do it, That sometime savours nobly?—But hear me this: That screws me from my true place in your favour, Where he sits crowned in his master's spite. Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mischief: I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love, Vio. And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly, To spite a raven's heart within a dove. [Going. To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die. [Following. Oli. Where goes Cesario? Vio. After him I love, More than I love these eyes, more than my life, If I do feign, you witnesses above, 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? Oli. Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long? Call forth the holy father. Duke. Come away. [Exit an Attendant. [TO VIOLA. Oli. Whither, my lord?-Cesario, husband, stay. Duke. Husband? 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'st thou art, and then thou art Re-enter Attendant and Priest. Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence, Priest. A contract of eternal bond of love, Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings; And all the ceremony of this compact Seal'd in my function, by my testimony: Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave, I have travelled but two hours. Duke. O, thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be, When time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy case? Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow, Oli. O, do not swear; Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear. Enter Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK, with his head broke. Sir And. For the love of God, a surgeon; send one presently to Sir Toby. Oli. What's the matter? Sir And. He has broke my head across, and has given Sir 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, Sir Andrew ? Sir And. The count's gentleman, one Cesario: we took him for a coward, but he's the very devil incardinate. Duke. My gentleman, Cesario? Sir And. Od's lifelings, here he is :-You broke my head for nothing; and that that I did, I was set on to do't by Sir Toby. Vio. Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you: You drew your sword upon me, without cause; But I bespake you fair, and hurt you not. Sir And. If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me; I think, you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb. Enter Sir TOBY BELCH, drunk, led by the Clown. Here comes Sir 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? his eyes Sir To. That's all one; he has hurt me, and there's the end on't.-Sot, did'st see Dick surgeon, sot? Clo. O he's drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone; were set at eight i'the morning. Sir To. Then he's a rogue. After a passy-measure, or a pavin, I hate a drunken rogue. Oli. Away with him: Who hath made this havoc with them? Sir And. I'll help you, Sir Toby, because we'll be dressed together. Sir To. Will you help an ass-head, and a coxcomb, and a knave? a thin-faced knave, a gull? Oli. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to. [Exeunt Clown, Sir TOBY, and Sir ANDREW. Enter SEBASTIAN. Seb. I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kinsman; But, had it been the brother of my blood, I must have done no less, with wit, and safety. Duke. One face, one voice, one habit, and two per sons: A natural perspective, that is, and is not. Seb. Antonio, O my dear Antonio! How have the hours rack'd and tortur'd me, Ant. Sebastian are you? Seb. Fear'st thou that, Antonio ? Ant. How have you made division of yourself?→ An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian? Seb. Do I stand there? I never had a brother: Of here and every where. I had a sister, Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd:Of charity, what kin are you to me? [TO VIOLA. What countryman? what name? what parentage? Vio. Of Messaline: Sebastian was my father; Such a Sebastian was my brother too, So went he suited to his watery tomb: If spirits can assume both form and suit Seb. A spirit I am, indeed; But am in that dimension grossly clad, Vio. My father had a mole upon his brow. Vio. And died that day when Viola from her birth Had number'd thirteen years. Seb. O, that record is lively in my soul! He finished, indeed, his mortal act, |