For which, if I be lapsed' in this place, Do not then walk too open. Ant. It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here's my 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, the youth, bears in his In the south suburbs, at the Elephant, visage no great presage of cruelty. Is best to lodge: I will bespeak our diet, Whiles you beguile the time, and feed your know Enter MARIA. Mar. If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourselves into stitches, follow me; yon' gull Malvolio 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 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 favor. 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. Seb. My kind Antonio, 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, 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; With the memorials, and the things of fame, Ant. "Would you'd pardon me; I do not without danger walk these streets: Once, in a sea-fight, 'gainst the Count his gallics, 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: purse; An hour. Ant. To the Elephant.— I do remember. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-Olivia's Garden. Enter OLIVIA and Maria. How shall I feast him? what bestow on him? He does nothing but smile; your ladyship Oli. Go call him hither. I'm as mad as he, I send 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. [thee. Oli. Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio? Mal. To bed? ay, sweet-heart; and I'll come to 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 bold. ness before my lady? Mal. Be not afraid of greatness: 'Twas well writ Mal. Some achieve greatness,- Mal. And some have greatness thrust upon them Mal. Remember who commended thy yellow stockings: Oli. Thy yellow stockings? Mal. And wished to see thee cross-gartered. Mal. Go to: thou art made, if thou desirest to be so ; Oli. Am I made? Mal If not, let me see thee a servant still. Oli. Why, this is very midsummer madness. Enter Servant. Serv. Madam, the young gentleman of the count Orsino's is returned; I could hardly entreat him back he attends your ladyship's pleasure. 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. [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 purpose, that I may appear stubborn to him; for she incites me to that in the letter. Cast thy humble slough, says she: be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants, let thy tongue tang with arguments of state, put thyself into the trick of singularity; -and, consequently, sets down the manner how; as, a sad face, a reverend carriage, slow tongue, in the habit of some sir of note, and so forth. I have 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! 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. Re-enter MARIA, with Sir TOBY BELCH, and FABIAN. a 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? Sir To. Pr'ythee, hold thy peace: this is not the way: Do you not see, you move him? let me alone with him. • Companion. Sir To. Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, man! 'tis not for gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan; Hang him, foul collier! Mar. Get him to say his prayers; good sir Toby, get him to pray. Mal. My prayers minx? Mar. No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godliness. Mal. Go hang yourselves all! you are idle shallow things: I am not of your element; you shall know more hereafter. [Exit. Sir To. Is't possible? could condemn it as an improbable fiction. Fab. If this were played upon a stage now, I 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. Sir To. Come, we'll have him in a dark room, and bound. My niece is already in the belief that he is mad; we may carry it thus, for our pleasure, and his penance, till our very pastime, tired out of breath, prompt us to have mercy on him; at which time, we will bring the device to the bar, and crown thee for a finder of madmen. But see, but see. Enter Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK. Fab. More matter for a May morning. Sir And. Here's the challenge, read it; I warrant, 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. 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 enes my. ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK. Sir To. If this letter move him not, his legs cannot: I'll giv'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 bailiff; so soon as A play among boys. 1 Jolly cock, beau and coq. 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 approbation than ever proof itself would have earned him. Away. Sir And. Nay, let me alone for swearing. [Exit. Sir To. Now will not I deliver his letter: for the behavior 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 valor; and drive the gentleman, (as, I know, his youth will aptly receive it,) into a most hideous opinion of his rage, skill, fury, and impetuosity. This will so frighten them both, that they will kill one another by the look, like cockatrices. 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 horrid message for a challenge. [Exeunt Sir ToBY, FABIAN, and MARIA. Oli. I have said too much unto a heart of stone, And laid mine honor 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. Vio. With the same 'havior that your passion bears, Go on my master's griefs. Oli. Here, wear this jewel for me, 'tis my picture; Refuse it not, it hath no tongue to vex you: And, I beseech you, come again to-morrow. What shall you ask of me, that I'll deny, That honor, sav'd, may upon asking give! Vio. Nothing but this, your true love for my mesOli. How with mine honor may I give him that Which I have given to you? Vio. [ter. I will acquit you. Oli. Well, come again to-morrow: Fare thee well, A fiend, like thee, might bear my soul to hell. Re-enter Sir TOBY BELCH and FABIAN. Sir To. Gentleman, God save thee. Vio. And you, sir. [Exit. 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 ary 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 unhacked 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 valor: 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. 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 abitrement; 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 valor. He is, indeed, sir, the most skilful, bloody, and fatal opposite that you could possibly have found in any part of Illyria: Will you walk towards him? I will make your peace with him, if I can. Vio. I shall be much bound to you for't: I am one, that would rather go with sir priest, than sin knight: I care not who knows so much of my [Exeunt. mettle. Re-enter Sir Tour with Sir ANDREW. Sir To. Why, man, he's a very devil; I have not seen such a virago. I had a pass with him, rapier, scabbard, and all, and he gives me the stuck-in, 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 perdition of souls. Marry, I'll ride your horse as well as I ride you. [Aside. Re-enter FABIAN and VIOLA. I have his horse [To FAB.] to take up the quarrel; I 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 be thought him of his quarrel, and he finds that now scarce to be worth talking of: therefore draw, for Stoccato, an Italian term in fencing. Fab. Give ground, if you see him furious. Sir To. Come, sir Andrew, there's no remedy; the gentleman will, for his honor'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 heaven 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 Fab. O good sir Toby, hold; here come the officers. Sir To. I'll be with you anon. [To ANTONIO. Vio. Pray, sir, put up your sword, if you please. [To Sir ANDREW. Sir And. Marry, will I, sir;-and, for that I promised you, I'll be as good as my word: He will bear you easily, and reins well. 1 Off. This is the man, do thy office. 2 Off. Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit Of Count Orsino. 1 Off. No, sir, no jot; I know your favor well, Though now you have no sea-cap on your head. Take him away; he knows, I know him well. Ant. I must obey.-This comes with seeking you; But there's no remedy; I shall answer it. What will you do? Now my necessity Makes me to ask you for my purse: It grieves me Much more for what I cannot do for you, Than what befals myself. You stand amaz'd; But be of comfort. Is't possible that my deserts to you Ant. 1 Off. What's that to us? The time goes by; away. Ant. But, O, how vile an idol proves this god!Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame. In nature there's no blemish, but the mind; Ant. Lead me on. [Exeunt Officers, with ANT. Sir To. Come hither, knight; come hither, Fabian; we'll whisper o'er a couplet or two of most sage saws. Vio. He named Sebastian; I my brother know Yet living in my glass; even such, and so, In favor was my brother: and he went Still in this fashion, color, ornament, For him I imitate: O, if it prove, Tempests are kind, and salt waves fresh in love! [Exit. ACT IV. SCENE I.—The Street before Olivia's House. Enter SEBASTIAN and Clown. Cio. Will you make me believe that I am not sent for you? Seb. Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow; Let me be clear of thee. Laws of duel. Clo. Well held out, i'faith! No, I do not know you; nor I am not sent to you by my lady, to bid you come speak with her; nor your name is not master Cesario; nor this is not my nose neither.-Nothing that is so, is so. Seb. I pr'ythee, vent thy folly somewhere else, Thou know'st not me. Clo. Vent my folly! He has heard that word of whilst. some great man, and now applies it to a fool. Vent | the curate; do it quickly: I'll call sir Toby the my folly! I am afraid this great lubber, the world, will prove a cockney.-I pr'ythee now ungird thy strangeness, and tell me what I shall vent to my lady: Shall I vent to her, that thou art coming? Seb. I pr'ythee, foolish Greek, depart from me; There's money for thee; if thou tarry longer, I shall give worse payment. Clo. By my troth, thou hast an open hand :These wise men that give fools money, get themselves a good report after fourteen years' purchase. Enter Sir ANDREW, Sir TOBY, and FABIAN. Sir And. Now, sir, have I met you again? there's for you. [Striking SEBASTIAN. Seb. Why, there's for thee, and there, and there: Are all the people mad? [Beating Sir ANDREW. Sir To. Hold, sir, or I'll throw your dagger o'er the house. Clo. This will I tell my lady straight: I would not be in some of your coats for two-pence. [Exit Clown. Sir To. Come on, sir; hold. [Holding SEB. Sir And. Nay, let him alone, I'll go another way to work with him; I'll have an action of battery against him, if there be any law in Illyria: though I struck him first, yet it's no matter for that. Seb. Let go thy hand. Sir To. Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier, put up your iron: you are well fleshed; come on. Seb. I will be free from thee. What wouldst If thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword. Enter OLIVIA. Oli. Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch, Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves, [Exit MARIA. Clo. Well, I'll put it on, and I will dissemble myself in't; and I would I were the first that ever dissembled in such a gown. I am not fat enough to become the function well, nor lean enough to be thought a good student: but to be said, an honest man, and a good housekeeper, goes as fairly, as to say, a careful man and a great scholar. The competitors enter. Enter Sir TOBY BELCH and MARIA. Sir To. Jove bless thee, Master Parson. Clo. Bonos dies, sir Toby: for as the old hermit of Prague, that never saw pen and ink, very wittily said to a niece of king Gorboduc, That, that is, is; so I, being master parson, am master parson; For what is that, but that? and is, but is? Sir To. To him, sir Topas. Clo. What, hoa, I say,-Peace in this prison! Sir To. The knave counterfeits well; a good knave. Mal. [In an inner chamber.] Who calls there? Clo. Sir Topas, the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio, the lunatic. Mal. Sir Topas, sir Topas, good sir Topas, go to my lady. Clo. Out, hyperbolical fiend! how vexest thou this man? talkest thou nothing but of ladies? Sir To. Well said, master parson. Mal. Sir Topas, never was a man thus wronged: good gir Topas, do not think I am mad; they have laid me here in hideous darkness. Clo. Fie, thou dishonest Sathan! I call thee by the most modest terms; for I am one of those gentle ones, that will use the devil himself with courtesy: Say'st thou, that house is dark? Mal. As hell, sir Topas. Clo. Why, it hath bay-windows transparent as barricadoes, and the clear stones towards the southnorth are as lustrous as ebony; and yet complainest thou of obstruction? Mal. I am not mad, sir Topas; I say to you, this house is dark. Clo. Madman, thou errest: I say, there is no Where manners ne'er were preach'd! out of my sight. darkness, but ignorance; in which thou art more Be not offended, dear Cesario: Rudesby,' begone!-I pr'ythee, gentle friend, Seb. What relish is in this? how runs the stream? Or I am mad, or else this is a dream: Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep; puzzled than the Egyptians in their fog. Mal. I say, this house is as dark as ignorance, though ignorance were as dark as hell; and I say, there was never man thus abused: I am no more mad than you are; make the trial of it in any constant question.' Clo. What is the opinion of Pythagoras, concerning wild-fowl? Mal. That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird. Clo. What thinkest thou of his opinion? Mal. I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his opinion? Clo. Fare thee well: Remain thou still in darkness: thou shalt hold the opinion of Pythagoras, Oli. Nay, come, I pr'ythee: 'Would thou'dst be ere I will allow of thy wits; and fear to kill a wood rul'd by me! cock, lest thou dispossess the soul of thy gran. dam. Fare thee well. Mal. Sir Topas, sir Topas, Sir To. My most exquisite sir Topas ! Clo. Nay, I'm for all waters.2 Mar. Thou mightst have done this without thy beard and gown; he sees thee not. Sir To. To him in thine own voice, and bring me |