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

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

Vio.
Madam!

Duke.
Gracious Olivia,—

Oli.
What do you say, Cesario? Good my lord—

Vio.
My lord would speak, my duty hushes me.

Oli.
If it be aught to the old tune, my lord,
It is as ^{2 note}flat and fulsome to mine ear,
As howling after musick.

Duke.
Still so cruel?

Oli.
Still so constant, lord.

Duke.
What, to perverseness? you uncivil lady,
To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars

My soul the faithfull'st offerings has breath'd out,
That e'er devotion tender'd. What shall I do?

Oli.
Ev'n what it please my lord, that shall become him.

Duke.
Why should I not, had I the heart to do't,
^{3 note}Like to th' Egyptian thief, at point of death
Kill what I love? (a savage jealousie,
That sometimes savours nobly;) but hear me this:
Since you to non-regardance cast my faith,
And that I partly know the instrument,
That screws me from my true place in your favour:
Live you the marble-breasted tyrant still.
But this your minion, whom, I know, you love,
And whom, by heav'n, I swear, I tender dearly,
Him will I tear out of that cruel eye,
Where he sits crowned in his master's spight.
Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mischief:
I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love,
To spight a raven's heart within a dove. [Duke 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.
Ay me, detested! how am I beguil'd?

Vio.
Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong?

Oli.
Hast thou forgot thy self? Is it so long?
Call forth the holy father.

Duke.
Come, away. [To Viola.

Oli.
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. Enter Priest.
O welcome, father.
Father, I charge thee by thy reverence
Here to unfold, (tho' lately we intended
To keep in darkness, what occasion now
Reveals before 'tis ripe) what, thou dost know,
Hath newly past 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,
Strengthened by enterchangement of your rings;
And all the ceremony of this compact
Seal'd in my function, by my testimony:
Since when, my watch hath told me, tow'rd my grave
I have travell'd but two hours.

Duke.
O thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be,
When time hath sow'd a grizzel on thy case?
Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow,
That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow?
Farewel, and take her; but direct thy feet,
Where thou and I henceforth may never meet.

Vio.
My lord, I do protest—

Oli.
O, do not swear;
Hold little faith, tho' thou hast too much fear!

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