water but in a sink-a-pace'. What dost thou mean? is it a world to hide virtues in? I did think, by the excellent constitution of thy leg, it was form'd under the star of a galliard. Sir And. Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent 5 well in a flame-colour'd stock'. Shall we set| about some revels? Sir To. What shall we do else? were we not born under Taurus? Sir And. Taurus? that's sides and heart'. Sir To. No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let me see thee caper: ha! higher: ha, ha!—excellent! SCENE IV. [Excunt. 10 [15] Enter Valentine, and Viola in man's attire. Val. If the duke continue these favours towards you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanc'd; 20 he hath known you but three days, and already you are no stranger. Vio. You either fear his humour, or my negli gence, that you call in question the continuance of his love: Is he inconstant, sir, in his favours?' Val. No, believe me. Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants. Vio. On your attendance, my lord; here. Vio. Sure, my noble lord, If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow [then 251 30 35| Vio. Say, I do speak with her, my lord: What For they shall yet belye thy happy years, Is not more smooth, and rubious; thy small pipe For this affair:-Some four, or five, attend him; And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord To call his fortunes thine. [strife: Olivia's House. Enter Maria and Clown. Mar. Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, for I will not open my lips so wide as a bristle may jenter in way of thy excuse: my lady will hang thee for thy absence. Clo. Let her hang me: he, that is well hang'd m this world, needs fear no colours. Mar. Make that good. Clo. He shall see none to fear. Mar. A good Lenten' answer; I can tell thee where that saying was born, of, I fear no colours. Clo. Where, good mistress Mary? Mar. In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in your foolery. Clo. Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those that are fools, let them use their talents. Mar. Yet you will be hang'd, for being so long absent, or be turn'd away; Is not that as good as a hanging to you? Clo. Marry, a good hanging prevents a bad marriage; and, for turning away, let summer bear it out. Mar. You are resolute then? Clo. Not so neither; but I am resolv'd on two points. Mar. That, if one break, the other will hold; or, if both break, your gaskins fall. Clo. Apt, in good faith; very apt! Well, go thy way; if Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria. Mar. Peace, you rogue, no more of that; here comes my lady: make your excuse wisely, you were best. [Exit. Enter Olivia and Malcolio. Clo. Wit, an't be thy will, put me into good fooling! Those wits, that think they have thee, do very oft prove fools; and I, that am sure I lack thee, may pass for a wise man: For what says 50 Quinapalus? Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit. -God bless thee, lady! 551 Oli. Take the fool away. Clo. Do you not hear, fellow? take away the liady. Oli. Go to, you're a dry fool; I'll no more of you: besides, you grow dishonest. Clo. Two faults, Madonna', that drink and good counsel will amend: for give the dry fool drink, then is the fool not dry; bid the dishonest man 60mend himself; if he mend, he is no longer dis That is, a cinque-pace; the name of a dance, the measures whereof are regulated by the number five. Stockings were in Shakspeare's time called stocks. 3 This alludes to the medical astrology, which refers the affections of particular parts of the body, to the predominance of particular constellations. *ive. a contest full of impediments. Meaning, a short and spare one; alluding to the 5 commons in Lent. The cant word for mistress, dame. honest; 11 honest; if he cannot, let the botcher mend him :) Any thing that's mended, is but patch'd: virtue, that transgresses, is but patch'd with sin; and sin, that amends, is but patch'd with virtue: if that this simple syllogism will serve, so; if it will not, 5 What remedy? As there is no true cuckold but calamity, so beauty's a flower: the lady bade take away the fool; therefore, I say again, take her Mar. I know not, madam; 'tis a fair young man, Oli. Who of my people hold him in delay? Oli. Fetch him off, I pray you: he speaks no- 15 Oli. Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I'll 20| bide your proof. Clo. Good Madonna, why mourn'st thou ? Clo. The more fool you, Madonna, to mourn for your brother's soul being in heaven.-Take away the fool, gentlemen. Oli. What think you of this fool, Malvolio? doth he not mend? Mal. Yes; and shall do, 'till the pangs of death shake him: Infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever make the better fool. 25 30 Clo. God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will 35 be sworn that I am no fox; but he will not pass his word for two-pence that you are no fool. Oli. How say you to that, Malvolio? Mal. I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such a barren rascal; I saw him put down the 40 other day with an ordinary fool, that has no more brain than a stone: Look you now, he's out of his guard already; unless you laugh and minister occasion to him, he is gagg'd. I protest, I take these wise men, that crow so at these set kind of fools, 45 no better than the fools' zanies. Oli. O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste with a distemper'd appetite: to be generous, guiltless, and of free disposition, is to take those things for bird-bolts, that you deem cannon-bullets: There is no slander in an allow'd fool, though he do nothing butrail; nor no railing in a known discreet man, though he do nothing but reprove. Clo. Now Mercury indue thee with leasing', for thou speak'st well of fools! Enter Maria. Mar. Madam, there is at the gate a young gentleman much desires to speak with you. Oli. From the count Orsino, is it? That is, lying. 50 55 Clo. Thou hast spoken for us, Madonna, as if Oli. By mine honour, half drunk.-What is he Sir To. A gentleman. Oli. A gentleman? What gentleman? Sir To. 'Tis a gentleman here—A plague o'these pickle-herrings!-How now, sot? Clo. Good Sir Toby, Oli. Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by this lethargy? Sir To. Lechery! I defy lechery: There's on at the gate. Oli. Ay, marry; what is he? Sir To. Let him be the devil, an he will, I care Oli. Go thou and seek the coroner, and let him Clo. He is but mad yet, Madonna; and the fool shall look to the madman. [Exit Clown. Re-enter Malvolio. Mal. Madam, yond young fellow swears he will speak with you. I told him you were sick; he' takes on him to understand so much, and therefore comes to speak with you: I told him you were asleep; he seems to have a fore-knowledge of that too, and therefore comes to speak with you. What is to be said to him, lady? he's fortified against any denial. Oli. Tell him, he shall not speak vith me. Mal. He has been told so; and he says, he'll stand at your door like a sheriff's post2, and be the supporter to a bench, but he'll speak with you. Oli. What kind of man is he? Mal. Why, of man kind. Oli. What manner of man? Mal. Of very ill manner; he'll speak with you, will you, or no. Oli. Of what personage, and years, is he? Mal. Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough for a boy; as a squash is before 'tis a 60peascod, or a codling when 'tis almost an apple: 2 It was the custom of that officer to have large posts set up at his door, as an indication of his office; the original of which was that the king's proclamations, and other public acts, might be affixed thereon by of publication. 'tis ( 'tis with hime'en standing water, between boy and Oli. Let him approach: Call in my gentlewoman. 5 Oli. Give me my veil: come, throw it o'er my Vio. The honourable lady of the house, which is she? Oli. Speak to me, I shall answer for her; Your will? 10 15 Vio. Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable beauty, I pray you, tell me, if this be the lady of the house, for I never saw her: I would be loth to cast away my speech; for, besides that it is excellently well penn'd, I have taken great pains to 20 con it. Good beauties, let me sustain no scorn ;| I am very compatible', even to the least sinister usage. Oli. Whence came you, sir? Vio. I can say little more than I have studied, 25 and that question's out of my part. Good gentle one, give me modest assurance, if you be the lady of the house, that I may proceed in my speech. Oli. Are you a comedian ? Vio. No, my profound heart: and yet, by the 30 very fangs of malice, I swear, I am not that I play. Are you the lady of the house? Ol. If I do not usurp myself, I am. Vio. Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp yourself; for what is yours to bestow, is not yours 35 to reserve. But this is from my commission; I will on with my speech in your praise, and then shew you the heart of my message. Oli. Come to what is important in't: I forgive you the praise. Vio. Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis poetical. Vio. It alone concerns your ear. I bring ne overture of war, no taxation of homage; I hold the olive in my hand: my words are as full of peace as matter. Oli. Yet you began rudely. What are you? what would you? Vio. The rudeness, that hath appear'd in me, have I learn'd from my entertainment. What I am, and what I would, are as secret as maiden-head: to your ears, divinity; to any others, prophanation. Oli. Give us the place alone: [Exit Maria.] we will hear this divinity. Now, sir, what is your text? Vio. Good madam, let me see your face. Oli. Have you any commission from your lord to negotiate with my face? you are now out of your text: but we will draw the curtain, and shew you the picture. Look you, sir, such a one I was this present': Is't not well done? [Unveiling. Vio. Excellently done, if God did all. Oli. O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will give out diverse schedules of my beauty: It shall be inventoried; and every particle, and utensil, 40 labell'd to my will; as, item, two lips indifferent red; item, two grey eyes, with lids to them; item, one neck, one chin, and so forth. Were you sent hither to 'praise' me? Oli. It is the more like to be feign'd; I pray you, keep it in. I heard, you were saucy at my gates, and allowed your approach, rather to wonder 45 at you than to hear you. If you be not mad, be gone; if you have reason, be brief: 'tis not that time of the moon with me, to make one in so skipping a dialogue. Mar. Will you hoist sail, sir? here lies your 50 way. Vio. No, good swabber; I am to hull' here a little longer. Some mollification for your giant', sweet lady. Oli. Tell me your mind. Vio. I am a messenger. Oli. Sure, you have some hideous matter to deliver, when the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak your office. 2 j. e. That is, very submissive. upon the water, without sails or rudder. vent his delivering his message. value me. 5 4 Vio. I see you what you are: you are too proud; Oli. How does he love me? love him: Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble, wild, frolick, mad. To hull means to drive to and fro • i. e. I am, Vio. Vio. If I did love you in my master's flame, Oli. Why, what would you? Vio. Make me a willow cabin at your gate, Lage? Oli. You might do much: What is your parent-15| Oli. Get you to your lord; I cannot love him: let him send no more; Re-enter Malvolio. Mal. Here, madam, at your service. Oli. Run after that same peevish messenger, 20 Nor hold him up with hopes; I am not for him : 25 Oli. I do I know not what; and fear to find sea, was my sister drown'd. Seb. A lady, sir, though it was said she much re-、 sembled me, was yet of many accounted beautiful: 40 but, though I could not, with such estimable won der2, over-far believe that, yet thus far I will bold not but call fair: she is drown'd already, sir, with salt water, though I seem to drown her remembrance again with more. Seb. By your patience, no: my stars shine dark-ly publish her, she bore a mind that envy could ly over me; the malignancy of my fate might, perhaps, distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of you your leave, that I may bear my evils alone: 45 It were a bad recompence for your love, to lay any of them on you. Ant. Let me yet know of you, whither you are bound. Seb. No, in sooth, sir; my determinate voyage 50 is mere extravagancy. But I perceive in you so excellent a touch of modesty, that you will not extort from me what I am willing to keep in; therefore it charges me in manners the rather to express myself: you must know of me then, 55 Antonio, my name is Sebastian, which I called Rodorigo: my father was that Sebastian of Messaline, whom I know you have heard of: he left behind him, myself, and a sister, both born in an hour: if the heavens had been pleas'd, would we 60 had so ended! But you, sir, alter'd that; for, some hour before you took me from t! beach of the That is, to reveal myself. Ant. Pardon me, sir, your bad entertainment. Seb. O good Antonio, forgive me your trouble. Ant. If you will not murther me for my love, let me be your servant. Seb. If you will not undo what you have done, that is, kill him whom you have recover'd, desire it not. Fare you well at once: my bosom is full of kindness; and I am yet so near the manners of my mother, that upon the least occasion more, mine eyes will tell tales of me. I am bound to the count Orsino's court: farewel. [Erit. Ant. The gentleness of all the gods go with i. e. wonder and esteem. [Exit. SCENE Mal. She returns this ring to you, sir; you might have saved me my pains, to have taken it away yourself. She adds moreover, that you should put 10 your lord into a desperate assurance she will none of him: And one thing more; that you be never so hardy to come again in his affairs, unless it be to report your lord's taking of this. Receive it so. Vio. She took the ring of me, I'll none of it. Mal. Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her; and her will is, it should be so return'd: if it be worth stooping for, there it lies in your eye; if not, be it his that finds it. [Exit. Sir And. Nay, by my troth, I know not: but I know to be up late, is to be up late. Sir To. A false conclusion; I hate it as an untill'd can: to be up after midnight, and to go to bed then, is early; so that, to go to bed after midnight, is to go to bed betimes. Does not our life consist of the four elements? Sir And. 'Faith, so they say; but, I think, it rather consists of eating and drinking. 6 Sir To. Thou art a scholar; let us therefore eat and drink.-Marian, I say!-a stoop of wine! Enter Clown. Sir And. Here comes the fool, i'faith. Clo. How now, my hearts? Did you never see 15the picture of we three? Vio. I left no ring with her: What means this 20 lady? Fortune forbid, my outside have not charm'd her! 2 In women's waxen hearts to set their forms 4! SCENE Olivia's House. [Exit. III. Enter Sir Toby and Sir Andrew. Sir To. Approach, Sir Andrew: not to be a-bed after midnight, is to be up betimes; and diluculo surgere, thou know'st, 25 Sir To. Welcome, ass. Now let's have a catch. Sir And. By my troth, the fool has an excellent breast'. I had rather than forty shillings I had fool has. In sooth, thou wast in very gracious such a leg, and so sweet a breath to sing, as the fooling last night, when thou spok'st of Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians passing the equinoctial of Queubus: 'twas very good, 'faith. I sent thee sixpence for thy leman; Had'st it? Clo. I did impeticoat thy gratuity; for Malvolio's nose is no whip-stock: My lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are nobottle-ale houses. Sir And. Excellent! Why, this is the best fooling, when all is done. Now, a song. 30 Sir To. Come on; there is six-pence for you: let's have a song. Sir And. There's a testril of me too: if one knight give a---- Clo. Would you have a love-song, or a song of 35good life? 45 50 Sir To. A love-song, a love-song. Sir And. Ay, ay; I care not for good life. O mistress mine, where are you roaming? Clo. What is love? 'tis not hereafter; What's to come, is still unsure: In delay there lies no plenty ; That is, her tongue was talking of the duke, while her eyes were gazing on his messenger. 2 Pregnant means dexterous or ready. Mr. Steevens thus happily explains this obscure passage: "Viola has been condemning those who disguise themselves, because Oliva had fallen in love with a specious appearance. How easy is it, she adds, for those who are at once proper (i. e. fair in their appearance) and false, (i. e. deceitful) to make an impression on the hearts of women!-The proper false is certainly a less elegant expression than the fair deceiver, but seems to mean the same thing: a proper man, was the ancient phrase for a handsome man.” To set their forms, means, to plant their images; i. e. to make an impression on their easy minds. Tofadge, is to suit, to fit. i. e. a cup. i. e. voice. i. e. thy mistress. Meaning probably a jolly or merry song, agreeably to the bon vivant of the French, from which the phrase seems to be adopted. 10 In some counties sweet and twenty is a phrase of endearment, 5 Sir |