Vio.

Save thee, friend, and thy musick: Dost thou live^{2 note} by thy tabor?

Clo.

No, sir, I live by the church.

Vio.

Art thou a churchman?

Clo.

No such matter, sir; I do live by the church: for I do live at my house, and my house doth stand by the church.

Vio.

So thou may'st say, the king lies by a beggar, if a beggar dwell near him; or, the church stands by thy tabor, if thy tabor stand by the church.

Clo.

You have said, sir.—To see this age!—A sentence is but a cheveril glove^{3 note} to a good wit; How quickly the wrong side may be turned outward!

Vio.

Nay, that's certain; they, that dally nicely with words, may quickly make them wanton.

Clo.

I would therefore, my sister had had no name, sir.

Vio.

Why, man?

Clo.

Why, sir, her name's a word; and to dally with that word, might make my sister wanton: But, indeed, words are very rascals, since bonds disgrac'd them.

Vio.

Thy reason, man?

Clo.

Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words; and words are grown so false, I am loth to prove reason with them.

Vio.

I warrant, thou art a merry fellow, and carest for nothing.

Clo.

Not so, sir, I do care for something: but in my conscience, sir, I do not care for you; if that be to care for nothing, sir, I would it would make you invisible.

Vio.

Art not thou the lady Olivia's fool?

Clo.

No, indeed, sir; the lady Olivia has no folly: she will keep no fool, sir, 'till she be married; and fools are as like husbands, as pilchards are to herrings, the husband's the bigger: I am, indeed, not her fool, but her corrupter of words.

Vio.

I saw thee late at the count Orsino's.

Clo.

Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb, like the sun; it shines every where. I would be sorry, sir, but the fool should be as oft with your master, as with my mistress: I think, I saw your wisdom there.

Vio.

Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee. Hold, there's expences for thee.

Clo.

Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send thee a beard!

Vio.

By my troth, I'll tell thee; I am almost sick for one; though I would not have it grow on my chin. Is thy lady within?

Clo.

Would not a pair of these have bred, sir?

Vio.

Yes, being kept together, and put to use.

Clo.

I would play lord Pandarus^{4 note} of Phrygia, sir, to bring a Cressida to this Troilus.

Vio.

I understand you, sir; 'tis well begg'd.

Clo.

The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, begging but a beggar; Cressida was a beggar. My lady

is within, sir. I will conster to them whence you come; who you are, and what you would, is out of my welkin: I might say, element; but the word is over-worn.

Vio.
This fellow is wise enough to play the fool;
And, to do that well, craves a kind of wit:
He must observe their mood on whom he jests,
The quality of the persons, and the time;
And, like the haggard^{5 note}

Enter Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew.

Sir And.

Save you, gentleman^{7 note}

Vio.

And you, sir.

Sir To.

Dieu vous garde, monsieur.

Vio.

Et vous aussi; votre serviteur.

Sir To.

I hope, sir, you are; and I am yours.— Will you encounter the house? my niece is desirous you should enter, if your trade be to her.

Vio.

I am bound to your niece, sir: I mean, she is the list^{8 note} of my voyage.

Sir To.

Taste your legs, sir^{9 note}

Vio.

My legs do better understand me, sir, than I understand what you mean by bidding me taste my legs.

Sir To.

I mean, to go, sir, to enter.

Vio.

I will answer you with gait and entrance: But we are prevented.

Enter Olivia and Maria.

Most excellent accomplish'd lady, the heavens rain odours on you!

Sir And.

That youth's a rare courtier! Rain odours! well.

Vio.

My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your own most pregnant and vouchsafed ear^{1 note}

Sir And.

Odours, pregnant, and vouchsafed:—I'll get 'em all three ready* ^note.

Oli.

Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing.

Give me your hand, sir.

Vio.
My duty, madam, and most humble service.

Oli.
What is your name?

Vio.
Cesario is your servant's name; fair princess.

Oli.
My servant, sir! 'Twas never merry world,
Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment:
You are servant to the count Orsino, youth.

Vio.
And he is yours, and his must needs be yours;
Your servant's servant is your servant, madam.

Oli.
For him, I think not on him: for his thoughts,
'Would they were blanks, rather than fill'd with me!

Vio.
Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts
On his behalf:—

Oli.
O, by your leave, I pray you;
I bade you never speak again of him:
But, would you undertake another suit,
I had rather hear you to solicit that,
Than musick from the spheres.

Vio.
Dear lady,—

Oli.
Give me leave, I beseech you: I did send,
After the last enchantment, (you did hear)^{2 note}

Vio.
I pity you.

Oli.
That's a degree to love.

Vio.
No, not a grice^{5 note}

Oli.
Why then, methinks, 'tis time to smile again:
O world, how apt the poor are to be proud!
If one should be a prey, how much the better
To fall before the lion, than the wolf? [Clock strikes.

The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.—
Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you:
And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest,
Your wife is like to reap a proper man:
There lies your way, due west.

Vio.
Then westward-hoe^{6 note}:
Grace, and good disposition, attend your ladyship!
You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?

Oli.
Stay:
I pr'ythee, tell me, what thou think'st of me.

Vio.
That you do think, you are not what you are.

Oli.
If I think so, I think the same of you.

Vio.
Then think you right; I am not what I am.

Oli.
I would, you were as I would have you be!

Vio.
Would it be better, madam, than I am,
I wish it might; for now I am your fool.

Oli.
O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
In the contempt and anger of his lip!
A murd'rous guilt shews not itself more soon
Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon.
Cesario, by the roses of the spring,
By maidhood, honour, truth, and every thing,
I love thee so, that, maugre^{7 note}
all thy pride,
Nor wit, nor reason, can my passion hide.
Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,
For, that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause:
But, rather, reason thus with reason fetter:
Love sought is good, but given unsought, is better.

Vio.
By innocence I swear, and by my youth,
I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth,

^{8 note}And that no woman has; nor never none
Shall mistress be of it, save I alone^{9 note}.
And so adieu, good madam; never more
Will I my master's tears to you deplore.

Oli.
Yet come again; for thou, perhaps, may'st move
That heart, which now abhors, to like his love. [Exeunt.

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