Clo. Good master Fabian, grant me another re-I know not what 'twas, but distraction. quest. Fab. Any thing. 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? 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 Duke. Notable pirate! thou salt-water thief! Ant. Orsino, noble sır, 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 hitler: From the rude sca's enrag'd and foamy mouth That most ungrateful boy there, by your side, His life I gave him, and did thereto add Did I redeem; a wreck past hope he was: All his in dedication: for his sake, My love, without retention, or restraint, Did I expose myself, pure for his love, Into the danger of this adverse town; Clo. Marry, sir, they praise me, and make an ass Where being apprehended, his false cunning Drew to defend him, when he was beset; of me; now my foes tell me plainly I am an ass: so (Not meaning to partake with me in danger,) that by my foes, sir, I profit in the knowledge of myself; and by my friends I am abused: so that, Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance, conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives While one would wink; denied me mine own And grew a twenty-years-removed thing, make your two affirmatives, why, then the worse for my friends, and the better for my foes. Duke. Why, this is excellent. friends. Clo. No, sir, the worse. Duke. How can that be? Clo. By my troth, sir, no; though it please you to be one of my friends. Duke. Thou shalt not be the worse for mc; there's gold. purse, Which I had recommended to his use Clo. But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I(No interim, not a minute's vacancy,) 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. Both day and night did we keep company. Enter Olivia and attendants. Duke. Here comes the countess; now heaven walks on earth. Clo. Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play; and But for thee, fellow, fellow, thy words are madness: the old saying is, the third pays for all: the triplex, sir, is a good tripping measure; or the bells of St. Three months this youth hath tended upon me; Bennet, sir, may put you in mind; One, two, three. But more of that anon.--Take him aside. 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. from And this is he, that did the Tiger board, (1) Mischievous. 1 Oli. What would my lord, but that he may not Duke. Gracious Olivia, Oli. What do you say, Cesario?——Good my Vio. My lord would speak, my duty hushes me Duke. Still so cruel? Oli. Still so constant, lord. Duke. What! to perverseness? you uncivil lady, Oli. Even what it please my lord, that shall be come him. Duke. Why should I not, had I the heart to do t (3) Dull, gross. Where he sits crowned in his master's spite.- I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love, [Following. Oli. Ah, me, detested! how am I beguil'd! Duke. O'i. Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long?- Ay, husband; Can he that deny ? No, my lord, not I. Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence, Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings; 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, Oli. 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 coxconb. 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. After a passy-mea· sure, or a pavin, I hate a drunken rogue. Oli. Away with him: who hath made this havor with them? Sir And. I'll help you, sir Toby, because we'!; be dressed together. Sir To. Will you help, an ass-head, and a cox comb, 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, Duke. One face, one voice, one habit, and two A natural perspective, that is, and is not. Ant. Sebastian are you? Seb. Seb. Do I stand there? I never had a brother: Sir And. For the love of God, a surgeon; send Vio. Of Messaline: Sebastian was my father; 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? (1) Disown thy property. (2) Skin. Such a Sebastian was my brother too, Seb. A spirit I am indeed; (5) Out of charity tell me. Vio. And died that day when Viola from her birth with the which I doubt not but to do myself much 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 nature to her bias drew in that. Duke. Be not amaz'd; right noble is his blood. [To Viola. A most extracting frenzy of mine own 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. Óli. Open it, and read it. Clo. Look then to be wel! 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: your ladyship will have it as it ought to be, must allow vox.2 an you right, or you much shame. Think of me as you please. Ileave my duty a little unthought of, and speak out of my injury. The madly-used Malvolio. Oli. Did he write this? My lord, so please you, these things further though on, To think me as well a sister as a wife, Duke. Madam, I am most apt to embrace your Your master quits you; [To Viola.] and, for your service done him, So much against the mettle of your sex, So far beneath your soft and tender breeding, Duke. Is this the madman? How now, Malvolio? Ay, my lord, this same : Mal. Madam, you have done me wrong, You must not now deny it is your hand, 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 t'iec But, when we know the grounds and authors of it Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge Of thine own cause. Good madam, hear me spen And let no quarrel, nor no brawl to come, Taint the condition of this present hour, [To Fabian. Which I have wonder'd at. In hope it shalt o Fab. [reads. By the Lord, madam, you wrong Most freely I confess, myself, and Toby, me, and the world shall know it: though you have Set this device against Malvolio here, put me into darkness, and given your drunken Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my We had conceiv'd against him: Maria writ tenses as well as your ladyship. I have your own The letter, at sir Toby's great importance;" etter that induced me to the semblance I put on ;In recompence whereof, he hath married her How with a sportful malice it was follow'd, 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. (1) Hinders. (2) Voice. 74) Frame and constitution. (3) Attend. (5) Inferior. Fab. May rather pluck on laughter than revenge; 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 ime brings in his revenges. Mal. I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you. Of our dear souls-Meantime, sweet sister, But when I came to man's estate, With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, But when I came, alas! to wive, This play is in the graver part elegant and easy and in some of the lighter scenes exquisitely humorous. Ague-cheek is drawn with great propriety, but his character is, in a great measure, that ot natural fatuity, and is therefore not the proper prey of a satirist. The soliloquy of Malvolio is truly comic; he is betrayed to ridicule merely by his pride. The marriage of Olivia, and the succeed. ing perplexity, though well enough contrived ts divert on the stage, wants credibility, and fails to produce the proper instruction required in the dra ma, as it exhibits no just picture of life. JOHNSON. 94) MEASURE FOR MEASURE. Vincentio, duke of Vienna. PERSONS REPRESENTED. Clown, servant to Mrs. Over-done. Abhorson, an executioner. Angelo, lord deputy in the duke's absence. Escalus, an ancient lord, joined with Angelo in Barnardine, a dissolute prisoner. the deputation. Claudio, a young gentleman. Lucio, a fantastic. Two other like gentlemen. Varrius, a gentleman, servant to the duke. Provost. Thomas, Feter, A Justice. two friars. Elbow, a simple constable. Froth, a foolish gentleman. ACT 1. SCENE I-An apartment in the Duke's palace. Enter Duke, Escalus, Lords, and attendants. ESCALUS, Escal. My lord. Duke. Duke. Of government the properties to unfold, For common justice, you are as pregnant2 in, That we remember: there is our commission, From which we would not have you warp.-Call hither, I say, bid come before us Angelo. [Exit an attendant. What figure of us think you he will bear? For you must know, we have with special soul Elected him our absence to supply; Lent him our terror, drest him with our love; And given his deputation all the organs Of our own power: what think you of it? Escal. If any in Vienna be of worth To undergo such ample grace and honour, It is lord Angelo. Isabella, sister to Claudio. Mistress Over-done, a bawd. Lords, gentlemen, guards, officers, and other altendants. Scene, Vienna. Thyself upon thy virtues, them on thee. Both thanks and use. But I do bend my speech In our remove, be thou at full ourself; Ang. Duke. No more evasion: We have with a leaven'd and prepared choice Procceded to you; therefore take your honours. Our haste from hence is of so quick condition, That it prefers itself, and leaves unquestion'd' Matters of needful value. We shall write to you, As time and our concernings shall impórtune, How it goes with us; and do look to know What doth befall you here. So, fare you well: To the hopeful execution do I leave you Of your commissions. Ang. Yet, give leave, my lord, That we may bring you something on the way. Duke. My haste may not admit it; Nor need you, on mine honour, have to do As to your soul seems good. Give me your hand, |