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could only counterfeit love, and his professions of forming ridiculous characters can confer praise could be prompted, not by the hope of pleasure, only on him who originally discovered it, for it rebut of money. Thus the poet approached as near quires not much of either wit or judgment; its as he could to the work enjoined him; yet having success must be derived almost wholly from the perhaps in the former plays completed his own player, but its power in a skilful mouih, even he idea, seems not lo have been able to give Falstaff that despises it, is unable to resist. all his former power of entertainment.

The conduct of this drama is deficient; the acThis comedy is remarkable for the variety and tion begins and ends often, before the conclusion, number of the personages, who exhibit more cha- and the different parts might change places with racters appropriated and discriminated, than per- out inconvenience; but its general power, that haps can be found in any other play.

power by which all works ol genius shall finally Whether Shakspeare was the first that produced be tried, is such, that perhaps it never yet had upon the English stage the effect of language dis- reader or spectator who did not think it too soon torted and depraved by provincial or foreign pro-at the end. nunciation, I cannot certainly decide. This model


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may he be.


Hathkil the lock of all affections else

That live in thc when liver, brain, and heart, SCENE !.An apartment in the Duke's palace. These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and fillid, Enter Duke, Curio, Lords; musicians altending. (Her sweet perfections,) with one self king!

Away before me to sweet beds of powers;

Love-thoughts lie rich, when canopied with bowers If music be the food of love, play on,

(Exeunt Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting,

SCENE II.-The sea-coasli Enter Viola, Cap The appetite may sicken, and so die.

tain, and Satlors. That strain again ;—it had a dying fall: 0, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south,

Vio. What country, friends, is this? That breathes upon a bank of violets,


Illyria, lady. Stealing, and giving odour.—Enough; no more; My brother he is in Elysium.

Vió. And what should I do in Illyria 3 'Tis not so sweet now, as it was before. O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou ! Perchance, he is not drown'd:-What think you, That notwithstanding thy capacity

.sailors ? Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,

Cap. It is.perchance, that you yourself were Of what validity' and pitch soever,

saved. But falls into abatement and low price,

Vio. O my poor brother! and so, perchance, Even in a minute! so full of shapes is fancy, That it alone is high-fantastical.2

Cap. True, madam: and, to comfort you with Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord ?

chance, Duke.

What, Cyrio ? Assure yourself, after our ship did split, Cur.

The hart. When you, and that poor number saved with you, Duke. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have:

Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother, 0, when mine eyes did see Olivia first,

Most provident in peril, bind himself Methought, she purg'd the air of pestilence;

(Courage and hope both teaching him the pracThat instant was I turn'd into a hart;

tice) And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,

To a strong mast, that lived upon the sea ; E’er since pursue me. How now? what news Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back, from her ?

I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves,

So long as I could see.
Enter Valentine.

For saying so, there's gold:

Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope, Val. So please my lord, I might not be admitted, Whereto thy speech serves for authority, But from her handmaid do returri this answer : The like of him. Know'st thou this country? The element itself, till seven years heat,"

Cap. Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and Shall not behold her face at ample view;

born, But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk, Not three hours' travel from this very place. And water once a day her chamber round,

Vio. Who governs here? With eye-offending brine : all this, to season Сар..

A noble duke, in nature, A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh, As in his name. And lasting, in her sad remembrance.


What is his name? Drike. O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame,

Orsino. To pay this debt of love but to a brother,

Vió. Orsino! I have heard my father name himn : How will she love, when the rich golden shast He was a bachelor then. (1) Value. (2) Fantastical to the height.

(3) Heated.






And so is now,

Jar. He hath, indeed, -almost natural: for, be Or was so very late ; for but a month

sides that he's a fool, he's a great quatreller and, Ago I went from hence; and then 'twas fresh but that he hath the gift of a coward to ally the In murmur (as, you know, what great ones do, gust, he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among The less will prattle of,) that he did seek the prudent, he would quickly have the gift of a The love of fair Olivia.

graxe. Vio. What's she?

Sir To. By this hand, they are scoundrels, and Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count substractors, that say so of him. Who are they? That died some twelvemonth since; then leaving Mar. They that add moreover, he's drunk night

Hy in your company. In the protection of his son, her brother,

Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece; I'll Who shortly also died : for whose dear love, drink to her, as long as there is a passage in my They say, she hath abjur'd the company

throat, and drink in Illyria: he's a coward and a And sight of men.

coystril, that will not drink to my niece, till his Vis.

0, that I served that lady; brains turn of the toe, like a parish-top. What,
And might not be delivered to the world, wench? Castiliano vulgo; for here comes sir An-
Til I had made mine own occasion mellow, drew, Ague-face.
What my estate is.

That were hard to compass; Enter Sir Andrew Ague-cheek.
Because she will admit no kind of suit,
No, not the duke's,

Sir And. Sir Toby Belch! how now, sis Noby
Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, captain ; Belch?
And though that nature with a beauteous wall

Sir To. Sweet sir Andrew ? Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee

Sir And. Bless you, fair shrew. I will believe, thou hast a mind that suits

Mar. And you too, sir. With this thy fair and outward character.

Sir To. Accost, sir Andrew, accost. I pray thee, and I'll pay thee bounteously,

Sir And. What's that? Conceal me what I am; and be my aid

Sir To. My niece's chamber-maid. For such disguise as, haply, shall become

Sir And. Good mistress Accost, I desire better The form of my intent. 'I'll serve this duke ;

acquaintance. Thou shalt present me as a eunuch to him,

Mar. My name is Mary, sir. It may be worth thy pains; for I can sing,

Sir And. Good mistress Mary Accost,And speak to him in many sorts of music,

Sir To. You mistake, knight : accost, is, front That will allow' me very worth his service. her, board her, woo her, assail her. What else may hap, to time I will commit;

Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake Only shape thou thy silence to my wit.

her in this company. Is that the meaning of accost? Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be: Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen. When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see !

Sir To. An thou let part so, sir Andrew, 'would Vio. I'thank thee: lead me on. (Exeunt. thou might'st never draw sword again.

Sir And." An you part so, mistress, I would I SCENE III.A room in Olivia's house. Enter might never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you Sir Toby Belch and Maria.

think you have fools in hand ?

Mar. Sir, I have not you by the hand. Sir To. What a plague means my niece, to take Sir And.'Marry, but you shall have ; and here's the death of her brother thus ? I am sure, care's my hand. an enemy to life.

Mar. Now, sir, thought is free ; I pray you, bring Mar. By troth, sir Toby, you must come in your hand to the buttery-bar, and let it drink. earlier o' nights ; your cousin, my lady, takes great Sir And. Wherefore, sweetheart? what's your exceptions to your ill hours.

metaphor ? Sir To. Why, let her except before excepted. Mar. It's dry, sir.

Mar. Ay, but you must confine yourself within Sir And. Why, I think so; I am not such an ass, the modest limits of order.

but I can keep my hand dry. But what's your jest? Sir To. Confine ? I'll confine myself no finer than Mar. A dry jest, sir. I am: these clothes are good enough to drink in, Sir And. Are you full of them? and so be these boots too; an they be not, let them Mar. Ay, sir; I have them at my fingers' ends : hang themselves in their own straps.

marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren. Mar. That quaffing and drinking will undo you:

(Exit Maria. I heard my lady talk of it yesterday; and of a Sir To. O knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary foolish knight, that you brought in one night here, when did I see thee so put down? to be her wooer.

Sir And. Never in your life, I think; unless you Sir To. Who? Sir Andrew Ague-cheek? see canary put me down: methinks, sometimes I Mar. Ay, he.

have no more wit than a Christian, or an ordinary Sir To. He's as talle a man as any's in Illyria. man has : but I am a great eater of beef, and, 1 Mar. What's that to the purpose ?

believe, that does harm to my wit. Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats a Sir To. No question. Fear:

Sir And. An I thought that, I'd forswear it. I'll Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ride home to-morrow, sir Toby. ducats; he's a very fool, and a prodigal.

Sir To. Pourquoy, my dear knight ? Sir To. Fie, that you'll say so! he plays o' the Sir And. What is pourquoy ? do or not do? I viol-de-gambo, and speaks three or four, languages would I had bestowed that

time in the tongues, word for word without book, and hath all the good that I have in fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting: gifts of nature.

lo, had I but followed the arts ! (1) Approve. (2) Stout.

(3) Keystril, a bastard hawk.


Sirhen hadst thou had an

kead To the book even of my secret soul:

Thare, good youth, address thy gait' unto her; . Why, would that have me

air? pot deny'd access, stand at her doors, Past question ; for thou seest; it will not Al tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow, curl by nature.

Till thou have audience. Sir And. But it becomes me well enough, deest Vio

Sure, my noble lord, not?

If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow Sir To. Excellent; it hangs like flax on a dis- As it is spoke, she never will admit me. taff; and I hope to see housewife take thee be- Duke. Be clamorous, and leap all civil bounds, tween her lgs, and spin it off.

Rather than make unprofited return. Sir And. 'Faith, I'll home to-morrow, sir Toby: Vio. Say, I do speak with her, my lord; what your niece will not be seen; or, if she be, it's four then? to one she'll none of me: the count himself, here Duke. 0, then unfold the passion of my love, hard by, woos her.

Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith: Sir To. She'll none o' the count: she'll not match It shall become thee well to act my woes; above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; She will attend it better in thy youth, I have heard her swear it. Tut, there's life in't, Than in a nuncio of more grave aspéct. mar

Vio. I think not so, my lord.
And. I'll stay a month longer. I am a fel. Duke.

Dear Jad, believe it, the strangest mind i' the world ; 1 delight in For they shall yet belie thy happy years masques and revels sometimes altogether. That say, thou art a man: Diana's lip

Sir To. Art thou good at these kick-shaws, Is not more smooth and rubious ; thy small pipe knight?

Is as the maiden's organ, shrill and sound, Sir And. As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he And all is semblative a woman's part. be, under the degree of my betiers; and yet I will I know, thy constellation is right apt no compare with an old man.

For this affair:-Some four, or five, attend him, Sir To. What is thy excellence in a galliard, All, if you will; for I myself am best, knight?

When least in company :-Prosper well in this, 13 Sir And. 'Faith, I can cut a caper.

And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord, Sir To. And I can cut the mutton to't.

To call lris fortunes thine. Sir And. And, I think, I have the back-trick, Vio.

I'll do my best, siraply as strong as any man in Illyria.

To woo your lady: yet (.Aside.) a barlulstrife! $0 Sir To. Wherefore are these things hid? where-Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wise. fore have these gills a curtain before them ? are

(Exeunt. they like to take dust, like mistress Mall's picture ? Why dost thou not go to church in a galliard, SCENE V.-A room in Olivia's house. Enter and com home in a coranto? My very walk

Maria and Clown. should be a jig; I would not so much as make water, but in a sink-a-pace.' What dost thou Mar. Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, mean? is it a world to hide virtues in? I did think, or I will not open my lips so wide as a bristle may by the excellent constitution of thy leg, it was enter, in way of thy excuse : my lady will hang förmed under the star of a galliard.

ihce for thy absence. Sir And. Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent Clo. Lei her hang me: he, that is well hanged well in a flame-coloured stock.” Shall we set about in this world, needs to fear no colours. some revels ?

Mar. Make that good. 2 Sir To. What shall we do else ? were we not Clo. He shall see none to fear. born under Taurus ?

Mar. A good lentens answer: I can tell thee Sir And. Taurus ? that's sides and heart. where that saying was born, of, I fear no colours.

Sir To. No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let me Clo. Wherc, good mistress Mary? see thee caper : ha! higher: ha, ha!-excellent ! Nar. In the wars; and that may you be bold to

(Exeunt. say in your foolery.

Clo. Well, God give them wisdom, that have it ; SCENE IV. A room in the Duke's palace. En- and those that are fools, let them use their talents.

ter Valentine, and Viola in man's altire. Mar. Yet you will be hanged, for being so long Val. If the duke continue these favours towards as a hanging to you?

absent : or, to be turned away, is not that as good you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanced ;

Clo. Many a good hanging prevents a bad marhe hath known you but three days, and already riage; and, for turning away, let sunimer bear it you are no stranger.

out. Vio. You either fear his humour, or my negli. Mar. You are resolute then ? gence, that you call in question the continuance of

Clo. Not so neither; but I am resolved on two his love: is he inconstant, sir, in his favours ? Val. No, believe me.


Mar. That, if one break, the other will hold; or, Enter Duke, Curio, and altendants.

if both break, your gaskins fall.

Clo. Apt, in good faith ; very apt! Well, go thy Vio. I thank you. Here comes the count. way; if sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert Duke. Who saw Cesario, ho ?

as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria. Vio. On your attendance, my lord; here. Mar. Peace, you rogue, no more o' that; here Duke. Stand you awhile aloof.–Cesario, comes my lady: make your excuse wisely, you Thou know'st no less but all ; I have unclasp'd were best.

[Erit. Cinque-pace, the name of a dance. (5) Short and spare. Stocking. (3) Go thy way.

(6) Points were hooks which fastened the hose Full of impediments.

Jor breeches.


Enter Olivia and Malvolio.

Re-enter Maria. Clo. Wit, an't be thy will, put me into good fool-. Mar. Madain, there is at the gate a young gening! Those wits, that think they have thee, do very tleman, much desires to speak with you. oli prore fools ; and I, that am sure I lack thec, Oli. From the count Orsino, is it? may pass for a wise man: for what says Quinapa- Mar. I know not, madam; 'tis a fair young man, lus? Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit.-God and well attended. bless thee, lady!

Oli. Who of my people hold him in delay? Oli. Take the fool away.

Mar. Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman. Clo. Do you not hear, fellows? take away the Oli. Fetch him off, I pray you; he speaks nolady.

thing but maman: fie on him! (É.ril Maria. Go Oli. Go to, you are a dry fool; I'll no more of you, Malvolio; if it be a suit froin the count, you: besides, you grow dishonest.

sick, or not at home; what you will, to dismiss it. Cla. Two faults, madonna,' that drink and good [Erit Malvolio.) Now you see, sir, how your fool-, counsel will amend : for give the dry fool drink, ing grows old, and people dislike it. then is the fool not dry; bid the dishonest mend

Clo. Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; il cldest son should be a fool: whose skull Jove cram he cannot, let the botener mend him: any thing, with brains, for here he comes, one of thy kin, has that's mended, is but patched : virtue, that traus- a most weak pia mater.. gresses, is but patched with sin; and sin, that amends, is but patched with virtue: if that this

Enter Sir Toby Belch. simple syllogism will serve, so; if it will not, what remedy? As there is no true cuckold but calamity,

Oli. By mine honour, half drunk.-What is he so beauty's a flower :-the lady bade take away the

at the gate, cousin ?

Sir Io. A gentleman. fool; therefore, I say again, take her away. Oli. Sir, I bade them take away you.

Oli. A gentleman ? What gentleman ? Clo. Misprision in the highest degree!-Lady, these pickle-herrings !-How now, sot ?

Sir To. 'Tis a gentleman herc- A plague o' Cucullus non facit monachum; that's as much as

Clo. Good sir Toby,to say, I wear not motley in my brain. Good madonni, give me leave to prove you a fool.

Oli. Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early

by this lethargy? Oli. Can you do it?

Sir To. Lechery! I defy Icchery : there's one at Cio. Dexterously, good madonna.

the gate. Oli. Make your proof. Clo. I must catechise you for it, madonna; good

Oli. Ay, marry; what is he?

Sir To. Let him be the devil, an he will, I care my mouse of virtue, answer me.

Oli. Well, sir, for want of other idleness, 1'11 not : give me faith, say I. Well, it's all one. 'bide your proof.

(Exil. Clo. Good madonna, why mourn'st thou?

Oli. What's a drunken man like, fool ?

Clo. Like a drown'd man, a fool, and a madOli. Good fool, for my brother's death. Clo. I think, his soul is in hell, madonna.

man: one draught above heat makes him a fool;

the second mads him; and a third drowns him. Oli. I know his soul is in heaven, fool. Clo. The more fool you, madonna, to mourn (or sit o' my coz; for he's in the third degree of drink,

Oii. Go thou and seek the coroner, and let him your brother's soul being in heaven.– Take away he's drown'd? go, look after him. the fool, gentlemen.

Clo. He is but mad yet, madonna; and the fool Oli. What think you of this sool, Malvolio? doth

shall look to the madman. - [Evil Clown. he not mend? Val. Yes; and shall do, till the pangs of death

Re-enter Malvolio. shake him: infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever make the better fool.

Mal. Madam, yond young fellow swears he will Clo. God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for speak with you. I told him you were sick; he takes the better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will be on him to understand so much, and therefore comes sworn, that I am no fox; but he will not pass his to speak with you: I told him you were asleep; he Word for two-pence that you are no fool.

seems to have a fore-knowledge of that too, and Oli. How say you to that, Malvolio?

therefore comes to speak with you. What is to be Mal. I marvel your lady'ship takes delight in said to him, lady? he's fortified against any denial. such a barren rascal: I saw him put down the Oli. Tell him, he shall not speak with me. other day with an ordinary fool, that has no more Mal. He has been told so: and he says, he'll brain than a stone. Look you now, he's out of his stand at your door like a sheriff's post, and be the guard already: unless you laugh and minister oc- supporter of a bench, but he'll speak with you. casion to him, he is gagged. I protest, I take these Oli. What kind of man is he? wise men, that crow so at these set kind of fools, Mal. Why, of man kind. no better than the fools' zanies, 2

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. guitless, and of free disposition, is to take those oli. Or what personage, and years, is he? things for bird-bolts, that you deem cannon-bul- Mal. Not yet old enou: h for a man, nor young lets; there is no slander in an allowed fool, though enough for a boy; as a squash is before 'tis a peashe do nothing but rail; nor no railing in á known cod, or a codling when 'tis almost an apple: 'tis discreet man, though he do nothing but reprove. with him c'en standing water, between boy and

Clo. Now Mercury endue thce with leasing, 4 man. He is very well-favoured, and he speaks for thou speakest well of fools !

very shrewishly; one would think, his mother's

milk were scarce out of him. (1) Italian, mistress, dame. (2) Fools' baubles. (3) Short árrors. (4) Lying.

(5) The cover of the brain.

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