« PreviousContinue »
Re-enter OLIVIA, with VIOLA.
Oli. I have said too much unto a heart of stone, And laid mine honour too unchary out : There's something in me that reproves my fault, But such a headstrong potent fault it is That it but mocks reproof.
Vio. With the same haviour that your passion bears
Goes on my master's grief.
Oli. Here; wear this jewel for me, 'tis my picture:
Refuse it not; it hath no tongue to vex you; 30
Sir To. That defence thou hast, betake thee to't of what nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know not; but thy intercepter, full of despite, bloody as the hunter, attends thee at the orchard-end. Dismount thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation, for thy assailant is quick, skilful, and deadly.
Vio. You mistake, sir: I am sure no man hath any quarrel to me: my remembrance is very free and clear from any image of offence done to any man.
Sir To. You'll find it otherwise, I assure you : therefore, if you hold your life at any price, betake you to your guard; for your opposite hath in him what youth, strength, skill, and wrath,
can furnish man withal.
Vio. I pray you, sir, what is he? Sir To. He is knight, dubbed with unhatched rapier, and on carpet consideration; but he is a devil in private brawl: souls and bodies hath he divorced three, and his incensement at this moment is so implacable that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death and sepulchre. Hob, nob, is his word: give 't or take 't.
Vio. I will return again into the house and desire some conduct of the lady: I am no fighter. I have heard of some kind of men that put quarrels purposely on others to taste their valour; belike this is a man of that quirk.
Sir To. Sir, no; his indignation derives itself out of a very competent injury: therefore, get you on and give him his desire. Back you shall not to the house, unless you undertake that with me which with as much safety you might answer him therefore, on, or strip your sword stark naked; for meddle you must, that 's certain, or forswear to wear iron about you.
Vio. This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you, do me this courteous oflice, as to know of the knight what my offence to him is: it is something of my negligence, nothing of my purpose.
Sir To. I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you Exit. by this gentleman till my return.
Vio. Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter? Fab. I know the knight is incensed against you, even to a mortal arbitrement, but nothing of the circumstance more.
Vio. I beseech you, what manner of man is he? Fab. Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read him by his form, as you are like to find him in the proof of his valour. He is, indeed, sir, the most skilful, bloody, and fatal opposite that you could possibly have found in any part of Illyria. Will you walk towards him? I will make your peace with him if I can.
Vio. I shall be much bound to you for 't: I am one that had rather go with sir priest than sir knight; I care not who knows so much of my Exeunt. 3.0 mettle.
Re-enter Sir TOBY, with Sir ANDREW.
Sir To. Why, man, he's a very devil; I have not seen such a firago. I had a pass with him, rapier, scabbard and all, and he gives me the stuck-in with such a mortal motion that it is inevitable; and on the answer, he pays you as surely as your feet hit the ground they step on. They say he has been fencer to the Sophy.
Sir And. Pox on 't, I'll not meddle with him. Sir To. Ay, but he will not now be pacified: Fabian can scarce hold him yonder.
Sir And. Plague on 't; an I thought he had been valiant and so cunning in fence I'd have seen him damned ere I'd have challenged him. Let him let the matter slip, and I'll give him my horse, grey Capilet.
Sir To. I'll make the motion. Stand here; make a good show on 't: this shall end without the perdition of souls. Aside. Marry, I'll ride your horse as well as I ride you.
Re-enter FABIAN and VIOLA. To FABIAN. I have his horse to take up the quarrel. I have persuaded him the youth's a
Fab. He is as horribly conceited of him; and pants and looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels.
Sir To. To VIOLA. There's no remedy, sir: he will fight with you for's oath sake. Marry, he hath better bethought him of his quarrel, and he finds that now scarce to be worth talking of: therefore draw for the supportance of his vow: he protests he will not hurt you.
Vio. Aside. Pray God defend me! A little thing would make me tell them how much I lack of a man.
Fab. Give ground, if you see him furious.
Sir To. Come, Sir Andrew, there's no remedy: the gentleman will, for his honour's sake, have avoid it: but he has promised me, as he is a one bout with you; he cannot by the duello gentleman and a soldier, he will not hurt you. Come on; to 't.
Sir And. Pray God, he keep his oath!
Have done offence, I take the fault on me:
Sir To. I'll be with you anon.
Vio. Pray, sir, put your sword up, if you please. Sir And. Marry, will I, sir: and, for that I promised you, I'll be as good as my word. He will bear you easily and reins well.
First Off. No, sir, no jot: I know your favour well,
Though now you have no sea-cap on your head. Take him away: he knows I know him well.
Ant. I must obey. To VIOLA. This comes with seeking you;
But there's no remedy: I shall answer it.
But be of comfort.
Second Off. Come, sir, away.
Ant. I must entreat of you some of that money. Vio. What money, sir?
For the fair kindness you have show'd me here, And part, being prompted by your present trouble, Out of my lean and low ability
I'll lend you something: my having is not much : I'll make division of my present with you. Hold, there is half my coffer.
Will you deny me now? Is 't possible that my deserts to you Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery, Lest that it make me so unsound a man As to upbraid you with those kindnesses That I have done for you.
I know of none; Nor know I you by voice or any feature. I hate ingratitude more in a man Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption Inhabits our frail blood.
I snatch'd one half out of the jaws of death,
First Off. What's that to us? The time goes by: away!
Ant. But, O! how vile an idol proves this god. Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame. In nature there's no blemish but the mind; None can be call'd deform'd but the unkind: 400 Virtue is beauty, but the beauteous evil
Are empty trunks o'erflourished by the devil.
Exeunt Officers with ANTONIO. Vio. Methinks his words do from such passion fly,
That he believes himself; so do not I.
Sir To. Come hither, knight; come hither, Fabian: we'll whisper o'er a couplet or two of most sage saws.
Vio. He nam'd Sebastian: I my brother know Yet living in my glass; even such and so In favour was my brother; and he went Still in this fashion, colour, ornament, For him I imitate. O! if it prove Tempests are kind, and salt waves fresh in love. Exit.
Sir To. A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward than a hare. His dishonesty appears in leaving his friend here in necessity, and denying him; and for his cowardship, ask Fabian. Fab. A coward, a most devout coward, religious in it.
SCENE I-The Street before OLIVIA'S House. Enter SEBASTIAN and Clown.
Clo. Will you make me believe that I am not sent for you?
Seb. Go to, go to; thou art a foolish fellow : Let me be clear of thee.
Clo. Well held out, i' faith! No, I do not know you; nor I am not sent to you by my lady to bid you come speak with her; nor your name is not Master Cesario; nor this is not my nose neither. Nothing that is so is so.
Seb. I prithee, vent thy folly somewhere else: Thou know'st not me.
Clo. Vent my folly! He has heard that word of some great man, and now applies it to a fool. Vent my folly! I am afraid this great lubber, the world, will prove a cockney. I prithee now, ungird thy strangeness and tell me what I shall vent to my lady. Shall I vent to her that thou art coming?
Scb. I prithee, foolish Greek, depart from me: There's money for thee: if you tarry longer 20 I shall give worse payment.
Clo. By my troth, thou hast an open hand. These wise men that give fools money get themselves a good report after fourteen years' purchase.
Enter Sir ANDREW.
Sir And. Now, sir, have I met you again? there's for you. Striking SEBASTIAN. Seb. Why, there's for thee, and there, and there. Are all the people mad? Beating Sir ANDrew.
Sir To. Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier, put up your iron: you are well fleshed; come on.
Seb. I will be free from thee. What would'st
If thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword.
Clo. Sir Topas the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio the lunatic.
Mal. Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to my lady.
Clo. Out, hyperbolical fiend! how vexest thou this man! Talkest thou nothing but of ladies? Sir To. Well said, Master parson.
Mal. Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged. Good Sir Topas, do not think I am mad: they have laid me here in hideous darkness.
Clo. Fie, thou dishonest Satan! I call thee by the most modest terms; for I am one of those
Oli. Hold, Toby! on thy life I charge thee, gentle ones that will use the devil himself with hold!
Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me,
Or I am mad, or else this is a dream.
Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;
courtesy. Sayest thou that house is dark? Mal. As hell, Sir Topas.
Clo. Why, it hath bay-windows transparent as barricadoes, and the clerestories toward the south-north are as lustrous as ebony; and yet complainest thou of obstruction ?
Mal. I am not mad, Sir Topas. I say to you, this house is dark.
Clo. Madman, thou errest: I say there is no darkness but ignorance, in which thou art more puzzled than the Egyptians in their fog.
Mal. I say this house is as dark as ignorance, though ignorance were as dark as hell; and I say there was never man thus abused. I am no more mad than you are: make the trial of it in any constant question.
Clo. What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild fowl?
Mal. That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird.
Clo. What thinkest thou of his opinion? Mal. I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his opinion.
Clo. Fare thee well: remain thou still in dark
Oli. Nay; come, I prithee; would thou 'dst be ness. Thou shalt hold the opinion of Pytha
rul'd by me!
Seb. Madam, I will.
goras ere I will allow of thy wits, and fear to kill a woodcock, lest thou dispossess the soul of
O! say so, and so be. Exeunt. thy grandam. Fare thee well.
SCENE II. A Room in OLIVIA'S House.
Enter MARIA and Clown.
Mar. Nay, I prithee, put on this gown and this beard: make him believe thou art Sir Topas the curate: do it quickly; I'll call Sir Toby the whilst. Exit. Clo. Well, I'll put it on and I will dissemble myself in 't : and I would I were the first that ever dissembled in such a gown. I am not tall enough to become the function well, nor lean enough to be thought a good student; but to be said an honest man and a good housekeeper goes as fairly as to say a careful man and a great scholar. The competitors enter.
Mal. Sir Topas! Sir Topas !
Sir To. My most exquisite Sir Topas !
Mar. Thou might'st have done this without thy beard and gown: he sees thee not.
Sir To. To him in thine own voice, and bring me word how thou findest him: I would we were well rid of this knavery. If he may be conveniently delivered, I would he were; for I am now so far in offence with my niece that I cannot pursue with any safety this sport to the upshot. Come by and by to my chamber.
Exeunt Sir TOBY and MARIA.
Clo. Maintain no words with him, good fellow. Who, I, sir? not I, sir. God be 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 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 prithee, be gone.
I could not find him at the Elephant ;
Take and give back affairs and their dispatch
Oli. Blame not this haste of mine. If you
Now go with me and with this holy man
And, having sworn truth, ever will be true.
That they may fairly note this act of mine!
SCENE I.-The Street before OLIVIA'S House.
Fab. Now, as thou lovest me, let me see his letter.
Clo. Good Master Fabian, grant me another request. Fab. Any thing.
Clo. Do not desire to see this letter.
Fab. This is, to give a dog, and in recompense desire my dog again.
Enter DUKE, VIOLA, CURIO, and Attendants. Duke. Belong you to the Lady Olivia, friends? Clo. Ay, sir; we are some of her trappings. 10 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 Exit. friends.
Sb. 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?
Clo. No, sir, the worse.
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 | Into the danger of this adverse town; better for my foes.
Duke. Why, this is excellent.
Drew to defend him when he was beset :
Clo. By my troth, sir, no; though it please Not meaning to partake with me in danger, 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 Saint 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. 52 Vio. Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue
Enter ANTONIO and Officers.
Duke. That face of his I do remember well;
Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,
Which I had recommended to his use
How can this be?
No interim, not a minute's vacancy,
Duke. Here comes the countess: now heaven
But for thee, fellow; fellow, thy words are
Three months this youth hath tended upon me;
Oli. What would my lord, but that he may
Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?
Duke. Gracious Olivia,
Oli. What do you say, Cesario? Good, my lord,
Cried fame and honour on him. What's the My soul the faithfull'st offerings hath breath'd matter?
Duke. Why should I not, had I the heart to
Like to the Egyptian thief at point of death,
I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love,
Vio. And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly, To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die. Oli. Where goes Cesario?
After him I love