Clown, meeting14Q0440.
Vio.
Save thee, friend, and thy musick: Dost thou
live by the tabor? note
Clo.
No, sir, I live by the church.
Vio.
Art thou a churchman?
Clo.
No such matter, sir; I do note 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 note 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 chev'ril glove to a good wit; How quickly
the wrong side may be turn'd 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 car'st
-- 44 --
for nothing.
Clo.
Not so, sir, I do care for something: but note 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 marry'd; 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 &dagger2; 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 of Phrygia, sir, to
bring a Cressida to this Troilus.
Vio.
I understand you, sir 'tis well beg'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, are out note of my welkin: I might
say, element; but the word is over-worn.
[Exit Clown.
-- 45 --
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 persons, and the time;
And, like the haggard, check at every feather
That comes before his eye. This is a practice,
As full of labour as a wise man's art:
For folly, that he wisely shews, is fit;
But wise men, folly-faln, note quite taint their wit.
Enter Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew.
Sir T.
Save you, gentleman14Q0441.
Vio.
And you, sir.
Sir A.
Dieu vous guarde, monsieur.
Vio.
Et vous aussi; votre serviteur.
Sir A.
I hope, sir, you are; and I am yours.
Sir T.
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 of my voyage.
Sir T.
Taste your legs, sir, put them to motion.
Vio.
My legs do better understand me, sir, than
I understand what you mean by bidding me taste my
legs.
Sir T.
I mean, to go, sir, to enter.
Vio.
I will answer you with gate note and entrance:
But we are prevented.—
Enter Olivia, and Maria.
Most excellent-accomplish'd lady, the heavens rain
odours on you!
&clquo;Sir A.
&clquo;That youth's a rare courtier. Rain odours!
well.&crquo;
Vio.
My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your
-- 46 --
own most pregnant and vouchsafed ear.
&clquo;Sir A.
&clquo;Odours, pregnant, and vouchsafed:—I'll get
'em all three ready note.&crquo;.
Oli.
Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to
my hearing.
[Exeunt Sir T. Sir A. and Maria.
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're 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 bad you never speak again of him:
But, would you undertake another suit,
I had rather hear you to sollicit that,
Than musick from the spheres.
Vio.
Dear lady,—
Oli.
Nay, give me leave, beseech you: I did send,
After the last enchantment you did here, note
A ring in chace of you; so did I abuse
Myself, my servant, and, I fear me, you:
Under your hard construction must I sit,
To force that on you, in a shameful cunning,
Which you knew none of yours: What might you think?
Have you not set mine honour at the stake,
-- 47 --
And baited it with all the unmuzzl'd thoughts
That tyranous note heart can think? To one of your receiving
Enough is shewn; a cyprus note, not a bosom,
Hides my poor note heart: So note let me hear you speak.
Vio.
I pity you.
Oli.
That's a degree to love.
Vio.
No, not a grize; for 'tis a vulgar proof,
That very oft we pity enemies.
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:
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.—
-- 48 --
Cesario, by the roses of the spring,
By maidhood, honour, truth, and every thing,
I love thee so, that, maugre 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,
And that no woman has; nor ever none
Shall mistress be of it, save I alone.
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.
Edward Capell [1767], Mr William Shakespeare his comedies, histories, and tragedies, set out by himself in quarto, or by the Players his Fellows in folio, and now faithfully republish'd from those Editions in ten Volumes octavo; with an introduction: Whereunto will be added, in some other Volumes, notes, critical and explanatory, and a Body of Various Readings entire (Printed by Dryden Leach, for J. and R. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S10601].
