Mal. By this hand Iam: 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 madman, till I see his brains. I will fetch you light, and paper, and ink.

Mal. Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree: I pr'ythee, be gone.

Clo.

I am gone, sir,
And anon, sir,

I'll be with you again,

In a trice;

Like to the old vice1

Your need to sustain.

Who with dagger of lath,
In his rage and his wrath,

Cries, ah, ha! to the devil:
Like a mad lad,
Pare thy nails, dad.

Adieu, goodman drival. [Exit.

SCENE III. - OLIVIA'S GARDEN.
Enter Sebastian.

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, 2
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

followers,

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?

S. I'll follow this good man, and go with you; And, having sworn truth, ever will be true.

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.

V. 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, (matter?
Cry'd fame and honour on him. What's the

1 Off. Orsino, this is that Antonio, That took the Phoenix, and her fraught1 from And this is he that did the Tiger board, [Candy; When your young nephew Titus lost his leg: Here in the streets, desperate of shame and state, In private brabble did we apprehend him.

V. 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?

Ant.

Orsino, noble sir, Be pleased that I shake off these names you give Antonio never yet was thief, or pirate, [me; 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 Which I had recommended to his use (purse, 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 (No interim, not a minute's vacancy,) (before, Both day and night did we keep company.

Enter Olivia and Attendants.

Duke. Here comes the countess; now heaven walks on earth. [madness, But for thee, fellow, fellow, thy words are Three months this youth hath tended upon me; But more of that anon.. Take him aside.

0. What would my lord, but that he may not Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?- [have, Cesario, you do not keep promise with me. Vio. Madam?

Duke. Gracious Olivia,

[lord,-

0. What do you say, Cesario? Good my V. 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 musick.

Duke.

Still so cruel.

Du. 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, [this: That sometimes savours nobly?-But hear me Since you to non-regardance cast my faith, And that I partly know the instrument [our, That screws me from my true place in your favLive 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.
Vio. And I, most jocund, 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 beguile you? who does do you

wrong?

Oli. Hast thou forgot thyself! Is it so long?-
Call forth the holy father. [Exit an attendant.
Duke.
Come away. [To Viola.
0. Whither, my lord?-Cesario, husband, stay.
Duke. Husband?

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 thee 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 pass'd 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,

Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings:
And all the ceremony of this compáct
Seal'd in my function, by my testimony:
Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my
I have travell'd but two hours.

[grave,

D. 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,

Vio. My lord, I do protest,

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 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 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 othergates1 than he did.

D. 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 after a passymeasures pavin; 2 I hate a drunken rogue. Oli. Away with him: Who hath made this

havock 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 kinsBut had it been the brother of my blood, [man; 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. [persons; Duke. One face, one voice, one habit, and two A natural perspective, that is, and is not.

Seb. Antonio, O my dear Antonio!
How have the hours rack'd and tortur'd me,
Since I have lost thee!

Ant. Sebastian are you?
Seb.

Fear'st thou that, Antonio?
A. 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!
1 Otherways.

Seb. Do I stand there? I never had a brother; Nor can there be that deity in my nature Of here and everywhere. I had a sister, [vour'd:Whom the blind waves and surges have de[To Viola.] Of charity, what kin are you to me? 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, drown'd Viola! Vio. My father had a mole upon his brow. Seb. And so had mine.

Vio. And died that day when Viola from her Had number'd thirteen years. [birth

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, Where lie my maiden weeds; by whose gentle I was preserv'd, to serve this noble count: [help 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.

D. Be not amazed; right noble is his blood.-
If this be so, as yet the glass seems true,
I shall have share in this most happy wreck;
Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times,
[To Viola.
Thou never should'st 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.

V. 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 And yet, alas, now I remember me, [hither: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.

Oli. Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing, Though I confess much like the character: But out of question, 'tis Maria's hand.

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 1.

i

Oli. Pr'ythee, read i' thy right wits. Clo. So I do, madonna; but to read his right wits, is to read thus: therefore prepend,2 my princess, and give ear.

Oli. Read it you, sirrah.

[To Fabian.

Fab. [Reads.] 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 you much shame. Think of me as you please. I leave my duty a little unthought of, and speak out of my injury. The madly-used Malvolio. Oli. Did he write this?

Clo. Ay, madam.

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

My lord, so please you, these things further To think me as well a sister as a wife, [thoughton, One day shall crown the alliance on't, so please Here at my house, and at my proper cost.

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

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,
And since you call'd me master for so long,
Here is my hand: you shall from this time be
Your master's mistress.

Oli.

A sister?-you are she.

Re-enter Fabian, with Malvolio.

Duke. Is this the madman?
Oli.

How now, Malvolio?

Oli.

Ay, my lord, the same:

Mal. Madam, you have done me wrong, Notorious wrong. Have I, Malvolio? no. [letter: M. Lady, you have. Pray you peruse that 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 honour,

Why you have given me such clear lights of

favour; Bade me come smiling, and cross-garter'd 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'd, Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest, And made the most notorious geck, and gull, That e'er invention played on? tell me why.

First told me thou wast mad: then cam'st in 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 againt him: Maria writ The letter, at Sir Toby's great importance;1 In recompense whereof, he hath married her. How with a sportful malice it was follow'd, May rather pluck on laughter than revenge; If that the injuries be justly weigh'd, That have on both sides past.

0. 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:-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 abus'd.
D. 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, 2
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:
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 come 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 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.

Act First.

SCENE I.

CLOWN, Servant to Mrs Overdone. ABHORSON, an Executioner. BARNARDINE, a dissolute Prisoner.

ISABELLA, Sister to Claudio.

MARIANA, betrothed to Angelo.
JULIET, beloved by Claudio.

FRANCISCA, a Nun.

Mistress Overdone.

Lords, Gentlemen, Guards, Officers, and other

AN APARTMENT IN THE DUKE'S PALACE. Enter Duke, Escalus, and Lords.

Duke. Escalus, Esc. My lord.

Duke. Of government the properties to unfold, Would seem in me t' affect speech and discourse, Since I am put to know, that your own science Exceeds in that the lists of all advice

My strength can give you: Then no more remains
But that to your sufficiency, as your worth is able,
And let them work. The nature of our people,
Our city's institutions, and the terms

For common justice, you are as pregnant in
As art and practice hath enriched any

That we remember: There is our commission,
From which we would not have you warp. Call
I say, bid come before us, Angelo.- [hither,
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 deputations all the organs
Of our own power: What think you of it?
Esc. If any in Vienna be of worth
To undergo such ample grace and honour,
It is lord Angelo.

Duke.

Enter Angelo.

Look, where he comes.

Ang. Always obedient to your grace's will,

I come to know your pleasure.

Angelo, There is a kind of character in thy life, That to th' observer, doth thy history Fully unfold:-Thyself, and thy belongings, Are not thine own so proper, as to waste Thyself upon thy virtues, them on thee. Heaven doth with us, as we with torches do. Not light them for themselves: for if our virtues

Attendants.

Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike (touch'd
As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely
But to fine issues: nor nature never lends
The smallest scruple of her excellence,
But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines
Herself the glory of a creditor,

Both thanks and use; but I do bend my speec
To one that can my part in him advertise;
Hold, therefore, Angelo:

In our remove, be thou at full ourself;
Mortality and mercy in Vienna

Live in thy tongue and heart: Old Escalus,
Though first in question, is thy secondary.
Take thy commission.

Ang.

Now, good my lord,

Let there be some more test made of my mettle,
Before so noble and so great a figure
Be stamp'd upon it.

Duke.

No more evasion:

We have with a leaven'd and prepared choice
Proceeded 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. Weshall 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 th' hopeful execution do I leave you
Of your commissions.

Ang.

[hand;

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 With any scruple: your scope is as mine own, So to enforce or qualify the laws As to your soul seems good:-Give me your I'll privily away: I love the people, But do not like to stage me to their eyes: Though it do well, I no not relish well Their loud applause, and aves vehement: Nor do I think the man of safe discretion That does affect it. Once more, fare you well. Ang. The heavens give safety to your purposes! E. Lead forth, and bring you back in happiness!