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WHAT YOU WILL.
Orsino, Duke of Illyria.
Servants to Olivia.
OLIVIA, a rich Countess.
VIOLA, in love with the Duke.
Maria, Olivia's woman.
Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians, and other MALVOLIO, sleward to Olivia.
} Gentlemen attending on the Duke.
SCENE I. - An Apartment in the Duke's palace.
Enter VALENTINE. Enter Duke, Curio, Lords; Musicians attending.
Val. So please my lord, I might not be admitted, Duke. If musick be the food of love, play on, But from her handmaid do return this answer : Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting,
The element itself, till seven years' heat, The appetite may sicken, and so die.
Shall not behold her face at ample view; That strain again ;- it had a dying fall :
But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk, 0, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south, And water once a day her chamber round That breathes upon a bank of violets,
With eye offending brine : all this, to season Stealing, and giving odour. — Enough; no more ; A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh, 'Tis not so sweet now, as it was before.
And lasting, in her sad remembrance. O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou !
Duke. O, she, that hath a heart of that fine frame, That notwithstanding thy capacity
To pay this debt of love but to a brother, Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,
How will she love, when the rich golden shaft, Of what validity and pitch soever,
Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else But falls into abatement and low price,
That live in her! when liver, brain, and heart, Even in a minute! so full of shapes is fancy These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and fill'd That it alone is high-fantastical.
(Her sweet perfections) with one self king! Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord ?
Away before me to sweet beds of flowers; Duke.
What, Curio? Love-thoughts lie rich, when canopied with bowers. Cur.
The Sea Coast.
Enter Viola, Captain, and Sailors.
Vio. What country, friends, is this? E'er since pursue me. — How now? what news Cap. from her ?
Viv. And what should I do in Illyria ?
may he be.
Act I. SCENE II. TWELFTH NIGHT: OR, WHAT YOU WILL.
65 My brother he is in Elysium. Perchance, he is not drown'd:
What think you,
SCENE III. - A Room in Olivia's House. sailors? Cap. It is perchance, that you yourself were Enter Sir Toby BELch, and MARIA. saved.
Sir To. What a plague means my niece, to take Vio. O my poor brother ! and so, perchance, the death of her brother thus ? I am sure, care's
an enemy to life. Cap. True, madam : and to comfort you with
Mar. By troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earchance,
lier o'nights; your cousin, my lady, takes great exAssure yourself, after our ship did split,
ceptions to your ill hours. When you, and that poor number saved with you,
Sir To. Why, let her except before excepted. Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother,
Mar. Ay, but you must confine yourself within Most provident in peril, bind himself
the modest limits of order. (Courage and hope both teaching him the practice) Sir To. Confine! I'll confine myself no finer To a strong mast, that lived upon the sea;
than I am: these clothes are good enough to drink Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back,
in, and so be these boots too ; an they be not, let I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves, them hang themselves in their own straps. So long as I could see.
Mar. That quaffing and drinking will undo you: Vio.
For saying so, there's gold: I heard my lady talk of it yesterday; and of a Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,
foolish knight, that you brought in one night here, Whereto thy speech serves for authority,
to be her wooer. The like of him. Know'st thou this country? Sir To. Who? Sir Andrew Ague-cheek ? Cap. Ay, madam, well ; for I was bred and born,
Mar. Ay, he. Not three hours' travel from this very place.
Sir To. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria. Vio. Who governs here?
Mar. What's that to the purpose ? Cap.
A noble duke, in nature, Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats a year. As in his name.
Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these Vio. What is his name?
ducats ; he's a very fool, and a prodigal, Сар.
Sir To. Fye, that you'll say so! he plays o' the Vio. Orsino! I have heard my father name him! viol-de gambo, and speaks three or four languages He was a bachelor then.
word for word without book, and hath all the good Cap. And so is now,
gifts of nature. Or was so very late : for but a month
Mar. He hath, indeed, almost natural: for, Ago I went from hence; and then 'twas fresh
besides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller ; In murmur, (as, you know, what great ones do,
and but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay The less will prattle of,) that he did seek
the gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among The love of fair Olivia.
the prudent, he would quickly have the gift of a grave. Vio. What's she?
Sir To. By this hand, they are scoundrels, and Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count That died some twelvemonth since; then leaving her
substractors, that say so of him. Who are they?
Mar. They that add moreover, he's drunk nightly In the protection of his son, her brother,
in your company. Who shortly also died : for whose dear love,
Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece ; I'll They say, she hath abjur'd the company
drink to her, as long as there is a passage in my And sight of men.
throat, and drink in Illyria: He's a coward, and a Vio 0, that I served that lady :
coystril ', that will not drink to my niece, till his And might not be delivered to the world,
brains turn o' the toe like a parish-top. Here Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,
comes Sir Andrew Ague-face.
Enter Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK.
Sir And. Sir Toby Belch! how now, Sir Toby No, not the duke's.
Sir To. Sweet Sir Andrew !
Sir And. Bless you, fair shrew.
Mar. And you too, sir. I will believe, thou hast a mind that suits
Sir To. Accost, sir Andrew, accost. With this thy fair and outward character.
Sir And. What's that? I pray thee, and I'll pay thee bounteously,
Sir To. My niece's chamber-maid. Conceal me what I am ; and be my aid
Sir And. Good mistress Accost, I desire better For such disguise as, haply, shall become
acquaintance. The form of my intent. I'll serve this duke ;
Mar. My name is Mary, sir. Thou shalt present me as a page to him,
Sir And. Good mistress Mary Accost, It may be worth thy pains; for I can sing,
Sir To. You mistake, knight: accost, is, front And speak to him in many sorts of musick,
her, board her, woo her, assail her. That will allow me very worth his service.
Sir And. Is that the meaning of accost ? What else may hap, to time I will commit;
Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen. Only shape thou thy silence to my wit.
Sir To. An thou let part so, sir Andrew, 'would Cap. Be you his page, and I your mute will be : thou might'st never draw sword again. When my tongue blabs, let mine eyes not see ! Vio. I thank thee, lead me on,
Sir And. And you part so, mistress, I would I [Exeunt.
1 Keystril, a bastard hawk,
might never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you he hath known you but three days, and already you think you have fools in hand ?
are no stranger. Mar. Sir, I have not you by the hand.
Vio. You either fear his humour, or my negliSir And. Marry, but you shall have; and here's gence, that you call in question the continuance of
his love : Is he inconstant, sir, in his favours ? Mar. Now, sir, thought is free: I pray you, Val. No, believe me. bring your hand to the buttery-bar, and let it drink. Sir And. Wherefore, sweet heart? what's your
Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants. metaphor?
Vio. I thank you. Here comes the count. Mar. Its dry, sir.
Duke. Who saw Cesario, ho ? Sir And. Why, I think so; I am not such an Vio. On your attendance, my lord; here. ass, but I can keep my hand dry. But what's Duke. Stand you awhile aloof. — Cesario, your jest?
Thou know'st no less but all; I have unclasp'd Mar. A dry jest, sir.
To thee the book even of my secret soul : Sir And. Are you full of them ?
Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her ; Mar. Ay, sir; I have them at my fingers' ends. Be not deny'd access, stand at her doors,
(Eric Maria. And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow, Sir To. O knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary: Till thou have audience. When did I see thee so put down?
Sure, my noble lord, Sir And. Never in your life, I think; unless you If she be so abandon’d to her sorrow see canary put me down : Methinks, sometimes I As it is spoke, she never will admit me. have no more wit than an ordinary man has: but I
Duke. Be clamorous, and leap all civil bounds, am a great eater of beef, and, I believe, that does Rather than make unprofited return. harm to my wit.
Vio. Say, I do speak with her, my lord: What Sir To. No question.
then ? Sir And. An I thought that, I'd forswear it. I'll
Duke. O, then unfold the passion of my love, ride home to-morrow, sir Toby.
Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith : Sir To. Pourquoy, my dear knight?
It shall become thee well to act iny woes; Sir And. What is pourquoy? do or not do? I She will attend it better in thy youth, would I had bestowed that time in the tongues, Than in a nuncio of grave aspéct. that I have in fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting :
Vio. I think not so, my lord. O, had I but followed the arts !
Dear lad, believe it; Sir To. Then hadst thou had an excellent head For they shall yet belie thy happy years of hair.
That say, thou art a man : Diana's lip Sir And. Why, would that have mended my hair? | Is not more smooth and rubious; thy small pipe
Sir To. Past question; for thou seest, it will not Is as the maiden's organ, shrill, and sound, curl by nature.
And all its semblative a woman's part. Sir And. But it becomes me well enough, does't I know, thy constellation is right apt not?
For this affair: - Some four, or five, attend him; Sir To. Excellent; it hangs like flax on a distaff. All
, if you will; for I myself am best, Sir And. I'll home to-morrow, sir Toby: your When least in company : - Prosper well in this, niece will not be seen; or, if she be, it's four to one
And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord, she'll none of me: the count himself, here hard by, To call his fortunes thine. wooes her.
I'll do my best, Sir To. She'll none o' the count; she'll not To woo your lady: yet, [ Aside. ) a barful ? strife! match above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife. (Exeunt. wit; I have heard her swear it. Tut, there's life in't, man.
SCENE V. - A Room in Olivia's House. Sir And. I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow
Enter Maria, and Clown. o the strangest mind i' the world; I delight in masques and revels sometimes altogether.
Mar. Nay, either tell me where thou hast bein, Sir To. Art thou good at these kick-shaws, knight? or I will not open my lips, so wide as a bristle may
Sir And. As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he enter, in way of thy excuse: my lady will hang be, under the degree of my betters; and yet I will thee for thy absence. not compare with an old man.
Clo. Let her hang me: he, that is well hanged in Sir To. What is thy excellence in a galliard, this world, needs to fear no colours. knight?
Mar. Make that good. Sir And. I can cut a caper.
Clo. He shall see none to fear, Sir To. And I can cut the mutton to't.
Mar. A good lenten 3 answer : I can tell thee Sir And. Shall we set about some revels?
where that saying was born, of, I fear no colours. Sir To. What shall we do else? - Let me see
Clo. Where, good mistress Mary? thee caper: ha! higher: ha, ha! - excellent !
Mar. In the wars; and that may you be bold to [Exeunt. say in your foolery.
Clo. Well, Heaven give them wisdom, that have
it; and those that are fools, let them use their SCENE IV. - A Room in the Duke's Palace.
Mar. Yet you will be hanged, for being so long Enter VALENTINE, and Viola in man's attire.
absent: or, to be turned away; is not that as good Val. If the duke continue these favours towards as a hanging to you? you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanced ; ? Full of impediments.
3 Short and spare.
Clo. Many a good hanging prevents a bad mar- Mar. I know not, madam; 'tis a fair young man riage; and, for turning away, let summer bear it out. and well attended. Mar. You are resolute then ?
Oli. Who of my people hold him in delay? Clo. Not so neither ; but I am resolved on two Mar. Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman. points.
Oli. Fetch him off, I pray you; he speaks nothing Mar. That, if one break, the other will hold. but madman: Fye on him! [Exit Maria.) Go
Clo. Apt, in good faith ; very apt! Well, go thy you, Malvolio; if it be a suit from the count, I am way; if sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert sick, or not at home; what you will, to dismiss it. as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria. [Exit Malvolio.] Now you see, sir, how your
Mar. Peace, you rogue, no more o' that; here fooling grows old, and people dislike it. cornes my lady: make your excuse wisely, you were Clo. Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy best,
[Erit. eldest son should be a fool : whose skull Jove cram Enter OLIVIA, and MalvoLIO.
with brains, for here comes one of thy kin, has a Clo. Wit, and't be thy will, put me into good
most weak pia mater. 8 fooling! Those wits, that think they have thee, do
Enter Sir TOBY BELCH. very oft prove fools; and I, that am sure I lack thee, may pass for a wise man: For what Oli. By mine honour, half drunk. What is he
says Quinapalus? Better a witty fool, than a foolish at the gate, cousin ? wit. God bless thee, lady!
Sir To. A gentleman. Oli. Take the fool away.
Oli. A gentleman! What gentleman ? Clo. Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the
Sir To. 'Tis a gentleman here - A plague o' these lady.
pickle-herrings ! How now, sot ? Oli. Go to, you're a dry fool : I'll no more of
Clo. Good sir Toby,
Sir To. There's one at the gate. you: besides, you grow dishonest. Clo. Two faults, madonna 4, that drink and good
Oli. Ay, marry; what is he ? counsel will amend: for give the dry fool drink, then
Sir To. Let him be the devil, an he will, I care is the fool not dry; bid the dishonest man mend not : give me faith, say I. Well, it's all one. (Erit. himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if
Oli. What's a drunken man like, fool ? he cannot, let the botcher mend him. — The lady
Clo. Like a drown'd man, a fool, and a madman: bade take away the fool; therefore, I say again, take one draught above heat makes him a fool; the seher away.
cond mads him : and a third drowns him. Oli. Sir, I bade them take away you.
Oli. Go thou and seek the coroner, and let him Clo. Misprision in the highest degree ! Lady,
sit o' my coz; for he's in the third degree of drink, Cucullus non facit monachum ; that's much as to
he's drown'd: go, look after him. say, I wear not motley in my brain.
Clo. He is but mad yet, madonna; and the fool Oli. What think you of this fool, Malvolio? doth shall look to the madman. (Exit Clown. he not mend?
Re-enter MALVOLIO. Mal. Yes: and shall do, till the pangs of death shake him : Infirmity, that decays the wise, doth Mal. Madam, yond' young fellow swears he will ever make the better fool.
speak with you. I told him you were sick; he Clo. Heaven send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, takes on him to understand so much, and therefore for the better increasing your folly! sir Toby will comes to speak with you: I told him you were be sworn, that I am no fox ; but he will not pass asleep; he seems to have a fore-knowledge of that his word for two-pence that you are no fool. too, and therefore comes to speak with you. What Oli. How say you to that, Malvolio ?
is to be said to him, lady? he's fortified against any Mal. I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such denial. a barren rascal ; I saw him put down the other day
Oli. Tell him, he shall not speak with me. with an ordinary fool, that has no more brain than
Mal. He has been told so; and he says, he'll a stone. Look you now, he's out of his guard stand at your door like a sheriff's post, and be the already; unless you laugh and minister occasion to supporter of a bench, but he'll speak with you. him, he is gagged. I protest, I take these wise
Oli. What kind of man is he? men, that crow so at these set kind of fools, no Mal. Why, of man kind. better than the fools' zanies. 5
Oli. What manner of man ? Oli. O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and Mal. Of very ill manner; he'll speak with you, taste with a distempered appetite. To be generous, will you, or no. guiltless, and of free disposition, is to take those Oli. Of what personage, and years, is he? things for bird-bolts 6, that you deem cannon-bul. Mal. Not yet old enough for a man, nor young
He is lets : There is no slander in an allowed fool, though enough for a boy, between boy and man. he do nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known very well favoured, and he speaks very shrewishly; discreet man, though he do nothing but reprove.
one would think, his mother's milk were scarce out Clo. Now Mercury endue thee with leasing 7, for of him. thou speakest well of fools.
Oli. Let him approach : Call in my gentlewoman.
[Exit. Re-enter MARIA.
Re-enter MARIA. Mar. Madam, there is at the gate a young gentleman, much desires to speak with you.
Oli. Give me my veil : come, throw it o'er my Oli. From the count Orsino, is it?
We'll once more hear Orsino's embassy. Italian, mistress, dame.
5 Fools' baubles. 6 Short arrows, i Lying.
9 The cover of the brain.
Vio. To answer by the method, in the first of his Enter VIOLA.
heart. Vio. The honourable lady of the house, which is Oli. O, I have read it; it is heresy. Have you she?
no more to say? Oli. Speak to me, I shall answer for her. Your Vio. Good madam, let me see your face. will?
Oli. Have you any commission from your lord to Vio. Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable negotiate with my face? you are now out of your beauty, - I pray you, tell me, if this be the lady text: but we will draw the curtain, and show you of the house, for I never saw her: I would be loth the picture. Look you, sir, such a one as I was to cast away my speech; for, besides that it is ex- this present ?: Is't not well done ? [Unveiling. cellently well penn'd, I have taken great pains to Vio. Excellently done, if nature did all.
Good beauties, let me sustain no scorn : I Oli. 'Tis in grain, sir; 'twill endure wind and am very comptible 9, even to the least sinister weather. usage.
Vio. 'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white Oli. Whence came you, sir ?
Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on ; Vis. I can say little more than I have studied, Lady, you are the cruel'st she alive, and that question's out of my part. Good gentle If you will lead these graces to the grave, one, give me modest assurance, if you be the lady And leave the world no copy. of the house, that I may proceed in my speech. Oli. O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will Oli. Are you a comedian ?
give out divers schedules of my beauty: It shall be Vio. No, my profound heart: and yet, by the inventoried; and every particle, and utensil, lavery fangs of malice, I swear, I am not that I play. belled to my will: as, item, two lips indifferent Are you the lady of the house ?
red; item, two grey eyes, with lids to them; item, Oli. If I do not usurp myself, I am.
one neck, one chin, and so forth. Were you sent Vio. Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp hither to 'praise me? yourself; for what is yours to bestow, is not yours Vio. I see you what you are: you are too proud;
But this is from my commission: I will But, if you were the devil, you are fair. on with my speech in your praise, and then show My lord and master loves you ; 0, such love you the heart of my message.
Could be but recompens'd, though you were crown'd Oli. Come to what is important in't: I forgive The nonpareil of beauty ! you the praise.
How does he love me? Vio. Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis Vio. With adorations, with fertile tears, poetical.
With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire. Oli. It is the more like to be feigned; I pray Oli. Your lord does know my mind, I cannot you, keep it in, I heard, you were saucy at my
love him : gates; and allowed your approach, rather to won Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble, der at you than to hear you. If you be not mad, Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth; be gone ; if you have reason, be brief : 'tis not that In voices well divulg'ds, free, learn'd, and valiant, time of moon with me, to make one in so skipping And, in dimension, and the shape of nature, a dialogue.
A gracious person : but yet I cannot love him ; Mar. Will you hoist sail, sir ? here lies your way. He might have took his answer long ago.
Vio. No, good swabber; I am to hull here a Vio. If I did love you in my master's flame, little longer. Some mollification for your giant', With such a suffering, such a deadly life, sweet lady.
In your denial I would find no sense, Oli. Tell me your mind.
I would not understand it. Vio. I am a messenger.
Why, what would you? Oli. Sure, you have some hideous matter to de- Vio. Make me a willow cabin at your gate, liver, when the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak And call upon my soul within the house;
Write loyal cantons 4 of contemned love, Vio. It alone concerns your ear. • I bring no And sing them loud even in the dead of night; overture of war, no taxation of homage ; I hold the Holla your name to the reverberate hills, olive in my hand: my words are as full of peace as And make the babbling gossip of the air matter,
Cry out, Olivia ! O, you should not rest Oli. Yet you began rudely. What are you? Between the elements of air and earth, what would you?
But you should pity me. Vio. The rudeness, that hath appear'd in me, Oli. You might do much: What is your parentage? have I learn'd from my entertainment. What I
Vio. Above my fortunes, yet my state is well : am, and what I would, are to your ears, divinity; I am a gentleman, to any other's profanation.
Get you to your lord; Oli
. Give us the place alone: we will hear this I cannot love him : let him send no more; divinity. (Exit Maria.] Now, sir, what is your Unless, perchance, you come to me again, text?
To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well : Vio. Most sweet lady,
I thank you for your pains: spend this for me. Oli. A comfortable doctrine, and much may be Vio. I am no fee'd post, lady; keep your purse ; said of it. Where lies your text?
My master, not myself, lacks recompense. Vio. In Orsino's bosom.
Love make his heart of Aint, that you shall love; Oli. In his bosom? In what chapter of his bosom? And let your fervour, like my master's, be
Plac'd in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty. (Exit. 9 Accountable. It appears from several parts of this play that the original 2 Presents.
3 Well spoken of by the world. actress of Maria was very short,
4 Cantos, verses.