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Let's take the instant by the forward top,
That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine, For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees
Hath not in nature's mystery more science, Th' inaudible and noiseless foot of time
Than I have in this ring : 'twas mine, 'twas Helen's,
That you are well acquainted with't yourself,
Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement My liege, at first
You got it from her. She callid the saints to surety, I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart
That she would never put it from her finger, Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue :
Unless she gave it to yourself in bed,
Where you have never come, or sent it us
She never saw it. Scorn'd a fair colour, or express'd it stolen,
King. Thou speak’st it falsely, as I love mine honour, Extended or contracted all proportions,
And mak'st conjectural fears to come into me, To a most hideous object. Thence it came,
Which I would fain shut out. If it should prove That she, whom all men prais'd, and whom myself, That thou art so inhuman,—'twill not prove so;Since I have lost, have lov'd, was in mine eye And yet I know not:—thou didst hate her deadly, The dust that did offend it.
And she is dead;—which nothing, but to close
Her eyes myself, could win me to believe,
More than to see this ring.–Take him away:From the great compt. But love, that comes too late,
[Guards seize BERTRAM. Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried,
My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall, To the great sender turns a sour offence,
Shall tax my fears of little vanity, Crying, that's good that's gone. Our rash faults Having vainly fear'd too little.- Away with him! Make trivial price of serious things we have,
We'll sift this matter farther. Not knowing them, until we know their grave:
prove Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust,
This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy Destroy our friends, and after weep their dust : Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence, Our own love, waking, cries to see what's done, Where yet she never was. [Exit BERTRAM, guarded. While shameful hate sleeps out the afternoon.
Enter the Gentleman, a Stranger. Be this sweet Helen's knell, and now forget her. King. I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings. Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin :
Gracious sovereign, The main consents are had; and here we'll stay Whether I have been to blame, or no, I know not: To see our widower's second marriage-day.
Here's a petition from a Florentine,
To tender it herself. I undertook it,
Of the poor suppliant, who by this, I know,
Is here attending: her business looks in her
Your highness with herself.
King. [Reads.), “Upon his many protestations to I saw upon her finger.
marry me, when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, Ber. Hers it was not.
he won me. Now is the count Rousillon a widower: King. Now, pray you, let me see it; for mine eye, his vows are forfeited to me, and my honour's paid to While I was speaking, oft was fasten’d to't.- him. He stole from Florence, taking no leave, and I This ring was mine; and, when I gave it Helen, follow him to his country for justice. Grant it me, O I bade her, if her fortunes ever stood
king! in you it best lies; otherwise a seducer flourishes, Necessitied to help, that by this token
poor maid is undone. I would relieve her. Had you that craft to reave her
“ DIANA CAPILET." Of what should stead her most?
Laf. I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll Ber.
My gracious sovereign, him: for this, I'll none of him. Howe'er it pleases you to take it so,
King. The heavens have thought well on thee, Lafeu, The ring was never hers.
To bring forth this discovery.-Seek these suitors. Count. Son, on my life,
Go speedily, and bring again the count. I have seen her wear it; and she reckon'd it
[Exeunt Gentleman, and some Attendants. At her life's rate.
I am afeard, the life of Helen, lady, Laf.
I am sure I saw her wear it. Was foully snatch'd. Ber. You are deceiv'd: my lord, she never saw it. Count.
Now, justice on the doers ! In Florence was it from a casement thrown me,
Re-enter BERTRAM, guarded. | Wrapp'd in a paper, which contain’d the name King. I wonder, sir, for wives are monsters to you, Of her that threw it. Noble she was, and thought And that you fly them as you swear them lordship, I stood engag'd; but when I had subscrib'd
Yet you desire to marry.-What woman's that? To mine own fortune, and inform'd her fully
Re-enter Gentleman, with Widow, and DIANA. I could not answer in that course of honour
Dia. I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine, As she had made the overture, she ceas'd,
Derived from the ancient Capilet: [Kneeling. In heavy satisfaction, and would never
My suit, as I do understand, you know,
And therefore know how far I may be pitied.
Wid. I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour
Both suffer under this complaint we bring,
(Since you lack virtue, I will lose a husband) And both shall cease, without your remedy.
Send for your ring; I will return it home, King. Come hither, county. Do you know these and give me mine again. women ?
I have it not. Ber. My lord, I neither can, nor will deny
King. What ring was yours, I pray you? But that I know them. Do they charge me farther? Dia.
Sir, much like Dia. Why do you look so strange upon your wife? The same upon your finger.
[Rising King. Know you this ring? this ring was his of late. Ber. She's none of mine, my lord.
Dia. And this was it I gave him, being a-bed. Dia.
shall marry, King. The story then goes false, you threw it him You give away this hand, and that is mine;
Out of a casement. You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine; Dia.
I have spoke the truth. You give away myself, which is known mine;
Enter PAROLLES. For I by vow am so embodied yours,
Ber. My lord, I do confess, the ring was hers. That she which marries you must marry me;
King. You boggle shrewdly, every feather starts Either both, or none.
you.-Laf. [To Bertram.] Your reputation comes too Is this the man you speak of? short for my daughter: you are no husband for her. Dia.
Ay, my lord. Ber. My lord, this is a fond and desperate creature, King. Tell me, sirrah, but tell me true, I charge you, Whom sometime I have laugh'd with. Let your Not fearing the displeasure of your master, highness
(Which, on your just proceeding, I'll keep off) Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour, By him, and by this woman here, what know you? Than so to think that I would sink it here.
Par. So please your majesty, my master hath been King. Sir, for my thoughts, you have them ill to friend, an honourable gentleman: tricks he hath had in him, Till
your deeds gain them: fairer prove your honour, which gentlemen have. Than in my thought it lies.
King. Come, come; to the purpose. Did he love Dia. Good my lord,
this woman? Ask him upon his oath, if he does thirik
Par. 'Faith, sir, he did love her; but how? He had not my virginity.
King. How, I pray you? King. What say'st thou to her ?
Par. He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves a Ber.
She's impudent, my lord; woman.
King. How is that?
King. As thou art a knave, and no knave.-
What an equivocal companion is this ! Whose high respect, and rich validity,
Par. I am a poor man, and at your majesty's comDid lack a parallel; yet, for all that,
mand. He gave it to a commoner o' the camp,
Laf. He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty If I be one.
orator. Count. He blushes, and 'tis his.
Dia. Do you know, he promised me marriage ? Of six preceding ancestors, that gem
Par. 'Faith, I know more than I'll speak. Conferr'd by testament to the sequent issue,
King. But wilt thou not speak all thou know'st? Hath it been ow'd and worn. This is his wife :
Par. Yes, so please your majesty. I did go between That ring's a thousand proofs.
them, as I said; but more than that, he loved her, King.
Methought, you said, for, indeed, he was mad for her, and talked of Satan, You saw one here in court could witness it.
and of limbo, and of furies, and I know not what: yet Dia. I did, my lord, but loth am to produce I was in that credit with them at that time, that I So bad an instrument: his name's Parolles.
knew of their going to bed, and of other motions, as Laf. I saw the man to-day, if man he be.
promising her marriage, and things that would derive King. Find him, and bring him hither.
me ill will to speak of: therefore, I will not speak Ber.
What of him ? what I know. He's quoted for a most perfidious slave,
King. Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst With all the spots o' the world tax'd and debauch’d, Say they are married. But thou art too fine Whose nature sickens but to speak a truth.
In thy evidence; therefore, stand aside.-Am I or that, or this, for what he'll utter,
This ring, you say, was yours? That will speak any thing?
Ay, my good lord.
King. Where did
it Ber. I think, she has : certain it is, I lik'd her, Dia. It was not given me, nor I did not buy it. And boarded her i' the wanton way of youth.
King. Who lent it you? She knew her distance, and did angle for me,
It was not lent me neither. Madding my eagerness with her restraint,
King. Where did you find it then? As all impediments in fancy's course
I found it not? Are motives of more fancy; and, in fine,
King. If it were yours by none of all these ways, Her infinite cunning, with her modern grace,
How could you give it him? Subdued me to her rate: she got the ring,
I never gave it him. And I had that, which any inferior might
Laf. This woman's an easy glove, my lord: she At market-price have bought.
goes off and on at pleasure. Dia.
I must be patient: King. This ring was mine: I gave it his first wife. You, that turn'd off a first so noble wife,
Dia. It might be yours, or hers, for aught I know. May justly diet me. I pray you yet,
King. Take her away: I do not like her now.
To prison with her; and away with him.
No, my good lord : Unless thou tell’st me where thou had'st this ring,
"Tis but the shadow of a wife you see; Thou diest within this hour.
The name, and not the thing.
Both, both! 0, pardon! [Kneeling. King. Take her away.
Hel. O! my good lord, when I was like this maid, Dia.
I'll put in bail, my liege. I found you wondrous kind. There is your ring; King. I think thee now some common customer. And, look you, here's your letter: this it says: Dia. By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you. " When from my finger you can get this ring, King. Wherefore hast thou accus'd him all this And are by me with child," &c.--This is done: while ?
Will you be mine, now you are doubly won ? Dia. Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty. Ber. If she, my liege, can make me know this He knows I am no maid, and he'll swear to't:
[Rising. I'll swear I am a maid, and he knows not.
I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly. Great king, I am no strumpet, by my life!
Hel. If it appear not plain, and prove untrue, I am either maid, or else this old man's wife.
Deadly divorce step between me and you !
[Pointing to Lafeu. O! my dear mother, do I see you living ? King. She does abuse our ears. To prison with her! Laf. Mine eyes smell onions, I shall weep anon.Dia. Good mother, fetch my bail.—[Exit Widow.] Good Tom Drum, [To Parolles.] lend me a handkerStay, royal sir :
: so, I thank thee. Wait on me home, I'll make The jeweller that owes the ring is sent for,
sport with thee: let thy courtesies alone, they are And he shall surety me. But
for this lord,
scurvy ones. Who hath abus'd me, as he knows himself,
King. Let us from point to point this story know, Though yet he never harm'd me, here I 'quit him. To make the even truth in pleasure flow.He knows himself my bed he hath defil'd,
[To Diana.] If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower, And at that time he got his wife with child :
Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower;
Of that, and all the progress, more and less,
Resolvedly more leisure shall express :
Is there no exorcist All yet seems well; and if it end so meet, Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes?
The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. (Flourish. Is't real, that I see?
EPILOGUE BY THE KING.
Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts; That you express content; which we will pay, Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts.
TWELFTH-NIGHT: OR, WHAT YOU WILL.
Orsino, Duke of Illyria.
Malvolio, Steward to Olivia.
Elman, } Servants to Olivia.
OLIVIA, a rich Countess.
Viola, in love with the Duke. Sir Toby Belch, Uncle to Olivia.
Maria, Olivia's Woman. Sir ANDREW Ague-CHEEK.
Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians, and Attendants.
SCENE, a City in Illyria; and the Sea-coast near it.
ACT 1. SCENE I.–An Apartment in the Duke's Palace.
Duke. O! she that hath a heart of that fine frame, To pay
this debt of love but to a brother, Enter Duke, Curio, Lords. Music playing.
How will she love, when the rich golden shaft
That live in her: when liver, brain, and heart,
These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and fillid, That strain again ;-it had a dying fall :
(Her sweet perfections) with one self king.0! it came o'er my ear like the sweet south,
Away, before me to sweet beds of flowers; That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Love-thoughts lie rich, when canopied with bowers. Stealing, and giving odour.-Enough! no more:
[Exeunt. [Music ceases.
SCENE II.--The Sea-coast. 'Tis not so sweet now, as it was before. O, spirit of love! how quick and fresh art thou,
Enter Viola, Captain, and Sailors. That, notwithstanding thy capacity
V'io. What country, friends, is this? Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,
This is Illyria, lady. Of what validity and pitch soe'er,
Vio. And what should I do in Illyria ? But falls into abatement and low price,
My brother he is in Elysium. Even in a minute! so full of shapes is fancy,
Perchance, he is not drown'd:-what think you, sailors? That it alone is high-fantastical.
Cap. It is perchance that you yourself were sav'd. Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord ?
Vio. O, my poor brother! and so, perchance, may Duke.
he be. Cur.
The hart. Cap. True, madam: and, to comfort you with chance, Duke. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have. Assure yourself, after our ship did split, 0! when mine eyes did see Olivia first,
When you, and those poor number saved with you, Methought she purg'd the air of pestilence :
Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother, That instant was I turn'd into a hart,
Most provident in peril, bind himself And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,
(Courage and hope both teaching him the practice) E’er since pursue me.-How now! what news from her? To a strong mast, that lived upon the sea; Enter VALENTINE.
Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back,
For saying so there's gold. Shall not behold her face at ample view;
Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope, But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk,
Whereto thy speech serves for authority, And water once a day her chamber round
The like of him. Know'st thou this country? With eye-offending brine : all this, to season
Cap. Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and born, A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh Not three hours' travel from this very place. And lasting in her sad remembrance.
Vio. Who governs here?
A noble duke, in nature Sir To. Fie, that you'll say so! he plays o' the As in name.
viol-de-gamboys, and speaks three or four languages Vio. What is his name?
word for word without book, and hath all the good Сар. .
gifts of nature. Vio. Orsino! I have heard my father name him: Mar. He hath, indeed, -all most natural; for, besides He was a bachelor then.
that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller; and, but that Cap. And so is now, or was so very late;
he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath For but a month ago I went from hence,
in quarrelling, 'tis thought among the prudent he would And then 'twas fresh in murmur, (as, you know, quickly have the gift of a grave. What great ones do the less will prattle of)
Sir To. By this hand, they are scoundrels, and subThat he did seek the love of fair Olivia.
stractors that say so of him. · Who are they? Vio. What's she?
Mar. They that add, moreover, he's drunk nightly Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count in your company. That died some twelvemonth since; then leaving her Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece. I'll In the protection of his son, her brother,
drink to her, as long as there is a passage in my throat, Who shortly also died : for whose dear love,
and drink in Illyria. He's a coward, and a coistril, They say, she hath abjur'd the company,
that will not drink to my niece, till his brains turn o' And sight of men.
the toe like a parish-top. What, wench! Castiliano Vio.
0! that I serv'd that lady, vulgo; for here comes Sir Andrew Ague-face. And might not be delivered to the world,
Enter Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK. Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,
Sir And. Sir Toby Belch! how now, sir Toby Belch? What my estate is.
Sir To. Sweet sir Andrew. Cap.
That were hard to compass, Sir And. Bless you, fair shrew. Because she will admit no kind of suit,
Mar. And you too, sir.
Sir To. Accost, sir Andrew, accost.
Sir To. My niece's chamber-maid.
Sir And. Good mistress Accost, I desire better I will believe, thou hast a mind that suits
acquaintance. With this thy fair and outward character.
Mar. My name is Mary, sir. I pr'ythee, (and I'll pay thee bounteously)
Sir And. Good mistress Mary Accost, Conceal me what I am, and be my aid
Sir To. You mistake, knight: accost is front her, For such disguise as haply shall become
board her, woo her, assail her. The form of my intent. " I'll serve this duke :
Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake her in Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him.
this company. Is that the meaning of accost? It may be worth thy pains; for I can sing,
Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen. And speak to him in many sorts of music,
Sir To. An thou let her part so, sir Andrew, would That will allow me very worth his service.
thou might'st never draw sword again! What else may hap to time I will commit;
Sir And. An you part so, mistress, I would I might Only, shape thou thy silence to my wit.
never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think you Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be: have fools in hand ? When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see. Mar. Sir, I have not you by the hand. Vio. I thank thee. Lead me on.
[Exeunt. Sir And. Marry, but you shall have; and here's my SCENE III.-A Room in Olivia's House.
Mar. Now, sir, thought is free. I pray you, bring Enter Sir Toby Belch, and Maria.
your hand to the buttery-bar, and let it drink. Sir To. What a plague means my niece, to take the Sir And. Wherefore, sweet heart? what's your death of her brother thus ? I am sure care's an enemy metaphor? to life.
Mar. It's dry, sir. Mar. By my troth, sir Toby, you must come in Sir And. Why, I think so: I am not such an ass, earlier o' nights: your cousin, my lady, takes great but I can keep my hand dry. But what's your jest? exceptions to your ill hours.
Mar. A dry jest, sir.
Mar. Ay, but you must confine yourself within the Mar. Ay, sir; I have them at my fingers' ends : modest limits of order.
marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren. [Èxit Maria. Sir To. Confine? I'll confine myself no finer than Sir To. O knight! thou lack'st a cup of canary. I am. These clothes are good enough to drink in, When did I see thee so put down? and so be these boots too: an they be not, let them Sir And. Never in your life, I think; unless you hang themselves in their own straps.
see canary put me down. Methinks, sometimes I Mar. That quatting and drinking will undo you: I have no more wit than a Christian, or an ordinary heard my lady talk of it yesterday, and of a foolish man has; but I am a great eater of beef, and, I knight, that you brought in one night here to be her believe, that does harm to my wit.
Sir To. No question. Sir To. Who? Sir Andrew Ague-cheek?
Sir And. An I thought that, I'd forswear it. I'll Mar. Ay, he.
ride home to-morrow, sir Toby. Sir To. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria. Sir To. Pourquoi, my dear knight? Mar. What's that to the purpose ?
Sir And. What is pourquoi ? do or not do? I would Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats a year. I had bestowed that time in the tongues, that I have
Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these in fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting. Ó, had I but ducats : he's a very fool, and a prodigal.
followed the arts !