Clo. Master Malvolio! Mal. Ay, good fool.

Clo. Alas, sir, how fell you beside your five wits? Mal. Fool, there was never man so notoriously abused; I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art. Clo. But as well? then you are mad, indeed, if you be no better in your wits than a fool.

Mal. They have here propertied me; keep me in darkness, send ministers to me, asses, and do all they can to face me out of my wits.

Clo. Advise you what you say; the minister is here. Malvolio, Malvolio, thy wits the heavens restore! endeavor thyself to sleep, and leave thy

vain bibble babble.

Mal. Sir Topas

Clo. Maintain no words with him, good fellow. Who, I, sir not I, sir. God b'wi' you, good sir Topas.-Marry, amen.-I will, sir, I will. Mal. Fool, fool, fool, I say,Clo. Alas, sir, be patient.

What say you, sir? I am shent for speaking to you.

Mal. Good fool, help me to some light, and some paper; I tell thee, I am as well in my wits, as any man in Illyria.

Clo. Well-a-day, that you were, sir! Mal. By this hand, I am: Good fool, some ink, paper, and light, and convey what I will set down to my lady; it shall advantage thee more than ever the bearing of letter did.

Clo. I will help you to 't. But tell me true, are you not mad indeed? or do you but counterfeit? Mal. Believe me, I am not; I tell thee true. Clo. Nay, I'll ne'er believe a madınan, till I see his brains. I will fetch you light, and paper, and ink. Mul. Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree: I pr'ythee be gone. Clo.

I am gone, sir, And anon, sir,

Seb. This is the air; that is the glorious sun;
This pearl she gave me, I do feel 't and see 't:
And though 'tis wonder that enwraps me thus,
Yet 'tis not madness. Where's Antonio then?
I could not find him at the Elephant :
Yet there he was; and there I found this credit,*
That he did range the town to seek me out.
His counsel now might do me golden service:
For though my soul disputes well with my sense,
That this may be some error, but no madness,
Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune

So far exceed all instance, all discourse,
That I am ready to distrust mine eyes,
And wrangle with my reason, that persuades me
To any other trust, but that I am mad,
Or else the lady's mad; yet, if 'twere so,
She could not sway her house, command her fol
lowers,

Take, and give back, affairs and their despatch,
With such a smooth, discreet, and stable bearing,
As, I perceive, she does: there's something in't,
That is deceivable. But here comes the lady.

Enter OLIVIA and a Priest.

Oli. Blame not this haste of mine: If you mean
well,

Now go with me, and with this holy man,
Into the chantry by: there, before him,
And underneath that consecrated roof,
Plight me the full assurance of your faith,
That my most jealous and too doubtful soul
May live at peace: He shall conceal it,
Whiles you are willing it shall come to note;
What time we will our celebration keep
According to my birth.-What do you say?
Seb. I'll follow this good man, and go with you,
And, having sworn truth, ever will be true.
Oli. Then lead the way, good father;―
heaven so shine,
That they may fairly note this act of mine!

And

[Exeunt.

SCENE I-The street before Olivia's House.

Enter Clown and FABIAN.

Fab. Now, as thou lovest me, let me see his letter. Clo. Good master Fabian, grant me another request.

Fab Any thing.

Scolded, reprimanded.

Clo. Do not desire to see this letter. Fab. That is, to give a dog, and, in recompense, desire my dog again.

Enter DUKE, VIOLA, and Attendants. Duke. Belong you to the lady Olivia, friends?

A buffoon character in the old plays, and father of the modern Harlequin. 5 Account. • Until

4

Clo. Ay, sir; we are some of her trappings. Duke. I know thee well; How dost thou, my good fellow?

Clo. Truly, sir, the better for my foes, and the worse for my friends.

Duke. Just the contrary; the better for thy friends.

Clo. No, sir, the worse.
Duke. How can that be?

Clo. Marry, sir, they praise me, and make an ass of me; now my foes tell me plainly I am an ass: so that by my foes, sir, I profit in the knowledge of myself; and by my friends I am abused: so that, conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives make your two affirmatives, why then the worse for my friends, and the better for my foes.

Duke. Why, this is excellent.

Clo. By my troth, sir, no; though it please you to be one of my friends.

Duke. Thou shalt not be the worse for me; there's gold.

Clo. But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I would you could make it another.

Duke. O, you give me ill counsel.

Clo. Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this once, and let your flesh and blood obey it.

Duke. Well, I will be so much a sinner to be a double-dealer; there's another.

Clo. Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play; and

the old saying is, the third pays for all: the triplex, sir, is a good tripping measure; or the bells of St. Bennet, sir, may put you in mind: One, two,

three.

Duke. You can fool no more money out of me at this throw: if you will let your lady know, I am here to speak with her, and bring her along with you, it may awake my bounty further.

Clo. Marry, sir, lullaby to your bounty till I come again. I go, sir; but I would not have you to think, that my desire of having is the sin of covetousness: but as you say, sir, let your bounty take a nap, I will awake it anon. [Exit Clown.

Enter ANTONIO and Officers.

Vio. Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me.
Duke. That face of his I do remember well;
Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmear'd
As black as Vulcan, in the smoke of war:
A bawbling vessel was he captain of,
For shallow draught, and bulk, unprizable;
With which such scathful grapple did he make
With the most noble bottom of our fleet,
That very envy, and the tongue of loss,
Cry'd fame and honor on him. What's the matter?
1 Off. Orsino, this is that Antonio,
That took the Phoenix, and her fraught from
Candy;

And this is he, that did the Tiger board,
When your young nephew Titus lost his leg:
Here in the streets, desperate of shame, and state,
In private brabble did we apprehend him.
Vio. He did me kindness, sir; drew on my side;
But, in conclusion, put strange speech upon me,
I know not what 'twas, but distraction.

Duke. Notable pirate! thou salt-water thief!
What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies,
Whom thou, in terms so bloody, and so dear,
Hast made thine enemies?

Be pleas'd that I shake off these names you give me
Antonio never yet was thief, or pirate;
Though, I confess, on base and ground enough,
Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither:
That most ingrateful boy there, by your side,
From the rude sea's enrag'd and foamy mouth
Did I redeem; a wreck past hope he was:
His life I gave him, and did thereto add
My love, without retention, or restraint,
All his in dedication: for his sake,
Did I expose myself, pure for his love,
Into the danger of this adverse town;
Drew to defend him, when he was beset?
Where being apprehended, his false cunning,
(Not meaning to partake with me in danger,)
Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,
And grew a twenty-years-removed thing,
While one would wink; denied me mine own purse,
Which I had recommended to his use
Not half an hour before.

Vio.
How can this be?
Duke. When came he to this town?
Ant. To-day, my lord; and for three months
before,

(No interim, not a minute's vacancy,)
Both day and night did we keep company.

Enter OLIVIA and Attendants.

Duke. Here comes the countess; now heaven

walks on earth.

But for thee, fellow, fellow, thy words are madness: Three months this youth hath tended upon me; But more of that anon.- -Take him aside.

Oli. What would my lord, but that he may not
have,

Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?
Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.
Vio. Madam?

Duke. Gracious Olivia,

Oli. What do you say, Cesario?-Good my lord,

Vio. My lord would speak, my duty hushes me. Oli. If it be aught to the old tune, my lord, It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear, As howling after music.

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, That e'er devotion tender'd! What shall I do?

Oli. Even what it please my lord, that shall become him.

Duke. Why should I not, had I the heart to do it, Like to the Egyptian thief, at point of death, Kill what I love; a savage jealousy, That sometime savors nobly!-But hear me this: Since you to non-regardance cast my faith, And that I partly know the instrument That screws me from my true place in your favor, Live you, the marble-breasted tyrant, still; But this, your minion, whom, I know, you love, And whom, by heaven, I swear, I tender dearly, Him will I tear out of that cruel eye,

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,

To spite a raven's heart within a dove. [Going, Dull, gross.

4

Vio. And I, most jucund, apt, and willingly, 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, More, by all mores, than e'er I shall love wife: 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 begui'e you? who does do you wrong?

Oli. Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long?Call forth the holy father. [Exit an Attendant Come away. [TO VIOLA. Oli. Whither, my lord?--Cesario, husband, stay. Duke. Husband?

Duke.

Oli.

Ay, husband; Can he that deny?
Duke. Her husband, sirrah?
Vio.

No, my lord, not I.
Oli. Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear,
That makes hea strangle thy propriety:
Fear not, Cesario, take thy fortunes up;
Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art
As great as that thou fear'st.-O, welcome, father!
Re-enter Attendant and Priest.

Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence,
Here to unfold (though lately we intended
To keep in darkness, what occasion now
Reveals before 'tis ripe) what thou dost know
Hath newly past between this youth and me.

Priest. A contract of eternal bond of love,
Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands,
Attested by the holy close of lips,
Strengthened 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 travell'd 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, That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow? Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feet, Where thou and I henceforth may never meet. Vio. My lord, I do protest,Oli. O, do not swear; Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear. Enter Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK, with his head broken.

Sir And. For the love of heaven, 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 heaven, 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 un 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? 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; his eyes were set at eight i' the morning.

Sir To. Then he's a rogue, and 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 kins

man;

But had it been the brother of my blood,
I must have done no less, with wit, and safety.
You throw a strange regard upon me, and
By that I do perceive it hath offended you;
Pardon me, sweet one, even for the vows
We made each other but so late ago.

Duke. One face, one voice, one habit, and two

persons;

A natural perspective, that is, and is not.
Seb. Antonio, O my dear Antonio!
How have the hours rack'? and tortur'd me,
Since I have lost thee!

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?
Oli. Most wonderful!

Seb. Do I stand there? I never had a brother: Nor can there be that deity in my nature, 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, You come to fright us.

Seb.
A spirit I am, indeed;
But am in that dimension grossly clad,
Which from the womb I did participate.
Were you a woman, as the rest goes even,
I should my tears let fall upon your cheek,
And say-Thrice welcome, drowned Viola!

Vio. My father had a mole upon his brow.
Seb. And so had mine.

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
That day that made my sister thirteen years.
Vio. If nothing lets to make us happy both,
But this my masculine usurp'd attire,
Do not embrace me, till each circumstance
Of place, time, fortune, do cohere, and jump,
That I am Viola: which to confirm,

I'll bring you to a captain in this town,

you much shame. Think of me as you please. I leave my duty a little unthought of, and speak ous of my injury. The madly used MALVOLIO. Oli. Did he write this?

Clo. Ay, madam.

Duke. This savors not much of distraction. Oli. See him deliver'd, Fabian ; bring him hither [Exit FABIAN

I was preserv'd, to serve this noble count:
All the occurrence of my fortune since.
Hath been between this lady and this lord.

Seb. So comes it, lady, you have been mistook: [TO OLIVIA.

But nature to her bias drew in that.
You would have been contracted to a maid
Nor are you therein, by my life, deceived,
You are betroth'd both to a maid and man.
Duke. Be not amaz'd; right noble is his blood.
If this be so, as yet the glass seems true,

shall have share in this most happy wreck: Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times, [To VIOLA.

Thou never shouldst love woman like to me.
Vio. And all those sayings will I over-swear;
And all those swearings keep as true in soul,
As doth that orbed continent, the fire,
That severs day from night.

Duke.
Give me thy hand;
And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds.
Vio. The captain, that did bring me first on shore,
Hath my maid's garments: he, upon some action,
Is now in durance; at Malvolio's suit,
A gentleman, and follower of my lady's.
Oli. He shall enlarge him;-Fetch Malvolio
hither:

And yet, alas, now I remember me,
They say, poor gentleman, he's much distract.

Re-enter Clown, with a Letter.

A most extracting frenzy of mine own
From my remembrance clearly banish'd his.-
How does he, sirrah?

Clo. Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the stave's end, as well as a man in his case may do: he has here writ a letter to you; I should have given it to you to-day morning; but as a madman's epistles are no gospels, so it skills not much, when they

are delivered.

Oli. Open it, and read it.

Clo. Look then to be well edified, when the fool delivers the madman:-By the Lord, madam,Oli. How now, art thou mad?

Clo. No, madam, I do but read madness: an your ladyship will have it as it ought to be, you must

allow vox.2

Oli. Pr'ythee, read i' thy right wits.

Clo. So I do, madonna; but to read his right wits, is to read thus: therefore perpend, my princess, and give ear.

Oli. Read it you, sirrah. [TO FABIAN. Fab. [Reads.] By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and the world shall know it: though you have put me into darkness, and given your drunken cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my senses as well as your ladyship. I have your own letter that induced me to the semblance I put on; with the which I doubt not but to do myself much right, or

on,

To think me as well a sister as a wife,

One day shall crown the alliance on't, so please you, Here at my house, and at my proper cost.

Duke. Madam, I am most apt to embrace your offer.

Your master quits you; [To VIOLA] and, for your service done hirm,

So much against the mettle' of your sex,
So far beneath your soft and tender breeding,
And since you call'd me master for so long,
Here is my hand; you shall from this time be
Your master's mistress.

Notorious wrong.

Oli. Have I, Malvolio? no. Mul. Lady, you have. Pray you peruse that letter. You must not now deny it is your hand, Write from it, if you can, in hand, or phrase; Or say, 'tis not your seal, nor your invention: You can say none of this: Well, grant it then, And tell me, in the modesty of honor, Why you have given me such clear lights of favor, Bade me come smiling, and cross-gartered to you, To put on yellow stockings, and to frown Upon sir Toby, and the lighter people: And, acting this in an obedient hope, Why have you suffer'd me to be imprison'a, Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest, And made the most notorious geck,' and gull, That e'er invention play'd on? tell me why.

Oli. Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing, Though I confess much like the character: But out of question, 'tis Maria's hand. And now I do bethink me, it was she First told me, thou wast mad; then cam'st in smiling,' And in such forms which here were presuppos'd Upon thee in the letter. Pr'ythee, be content: This practice hath most shrewdly pass'd upon thee; But when we know the grounds and authors of it, Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge Of thine own cause. Fab.

Good madam, hear me speak
And let no quarrel, nor no brawl to come,
Taint the condition of this present hour,
Which I have wonder'd at. In hope it shall not,
Most freely I confess, myself and Toby
Set this device against Malvolio here,
Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts

We had conceived against him: Maria writ
The letter, at sir Toby's great importance;
In recompense whereof, he hath married her.
How with a sportful malice it was follow'd,

• Frame and constitution.
• Importunity.

May rather pluck on laughter than revenge;
If that the injuries de justly weigh'd,
That have on both sides past

Oli. Alas, poor fool! how have they baffled thee! Clo. Why, some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrown upon them. I was one, sir, in this interlude; one sir Topas, sir; but that's all one:-By the Lord, fool, I am not mad;-But do you remember? Madam, why laugh you at such a barren rascal? an you smile not, he's gagg'd: And thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.

Mal. I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you. [Exit.

Oli. He hath been most notoriously abused.
Duke. Pursue him, and entreat him to a peace:-
He hath not told us of the captain yet;
When that is known and golden time convents,"
A solemn combination shall be made

Of our dear souls:-Mean time, sweet sister,
We will not part from hence.-Cesario, come,
For so you shall be while you are a man:

1 Shall serve.

But, when in other habits you are seen,
Orsino's mistress, and his fancy's queen. [Exeunt.
SONG.

Clo. When that I was and a little tiny boy,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
A foolish thing was but a toy,
For the rain it raineth every day.

But when I came to man's estate,

With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, "Gainst knave and thief men shut their gate, For the rain it raineth every day.

But when I came, alas! to wive

With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
By swaggering could I never thrive,
For the rain raineth every day.
But when I came unto my bed,

With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
With toss-pots still had drunken head,
For the rain it raineth every day.

A great while ago the world begun,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
But that's all one, our play is done,
And we'll strive to please you every day.
Exit