Officers.
Vio.
Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me.
Duk.
That face of his I do remember well;
Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmear'd,
As black as Vulcan, in the smoke of war:
A baubling vessel was he captain of,
For shallow draught, and bulk, unprizable;
With which such scathful grapple did he make
With the most noble bottom of our fleet,
That very envy, and the tongue of loss,
Cry'd fame and honour on him.—What's the matter?
1. O.
Orsino, this is that Antonio,
That took the Phœnix, and her fraught, from Candy,
And this is he that did the Tiger board,
When your young nephew Titus lost his leg:
Here in the streets, desp'rate of shame, and state,
In private brabble did we apprehend him.
Vio.
He shew'd me note kindness, sir; drew on my side;
But, in conclusion, put strange speech upon me,
I know not what 'twas, but distraction.
Duk.
Notable pyrate, thou salt-water thief,
What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies,
Whom thou, in terms so bloody, and so dear,
Hast made thine enemies?
Ant.
Orsino, noble sir,
-- 76 --
Be pleas'd that I shake off these names you give me;
Antonio never yet was thief, or pyrate,
Though, I confess, on base and ground enough,
Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither:
That most ingrateful boy there, by your side,
From the rude sea's enrag'd and foamy mouth
Did I redeem; a wreck past hope he was:
His life I gave him; and did thereto add
My love, without retention, or restraint,
All his in note dedication: for his sake
Did I expose myself, pure for his love,
Into the danger of this adverse town:
Drew to defend him, when he was beset:
Where being apprehended, his false cunning
(Not meaning to partake with me in danger)
Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,
And grew a twenty-years-removed thing,
While one would wink; deny'd me mine own purse,
Which I had recommended to his use
Not half an hour before.
Vio.
How can this be?
Duk.
When came he to this town?
Ant.
To-day, my lord; and, for three months before,
(No interim, not a minute's vacancy)
Both day and night did we keep company.
Enter Olivia, and Attendants.
Duk.
Here comes the countess; now heaven 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?—
-- 77 --
Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.
Vio.
Madam?
Duk.
Gracious Olivia,—
Oli.
What do you say, Cesario?—Good my lord,—
Vio.
My lord would speak, my duty hushes me.
Oli.
If it be ought to the old tune, my lord,
It is as flat note and fulsome to mine ear,
As howling after musick.
Duk.
Still, still so cruel?
Oli.
Still so constant, lord.
Duk.
What, to perverseness? you uncivil lady,
To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars
My soul the faithfull'st off'rings hath breath'd note out,
That e'er devotion tender'd! What shall I do?
Oli.
Even what it please my lord, that shall become him.
Duk.
Why should I not, had I the heart to do it,
Like to the Egyptian thief, at point of death,
Kill what I love; a savage jealousy,
That sometime 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 heaven 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. note
To spite a raven's heart within a dove, note
[going.
Vio.
And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly,
To do you rest, a thousand deaths would dye.
[following.
-- 78 --
Oli.
Where goes Cesario? note
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.
Ah me detested! how am I beguil'd!
Vio.
Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong?
Oli.
Hast thou forgot thyself? is it so long?—
Call forth the holy father.
[Exit an Attendant.
Duk.
Come, away.
[to Viola.
Oli.
Whither, my lord?—Cesario, husband, stay.
Duk.
Husband?
Oli.
Ay, husband; Can he that deny?
Duk.
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.—O, welcome, father!
Re-enter Attendant, with Priest.
Father, I charge thee by thy reverence,
Here to unfold (though 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.
Pri.
A contract of eternal bond of love,
Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands,
Attested by the holy close of lips,
Strengthen'd by enterchangement of your rings;
And all the ceremony of this compact
-- 79 --
Seal'd in my function, by my testimony:
Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave
I have travel'd but two hours.
Duk.
O thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be,
When time hath sow'd a grizzle 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 note faith, though thou hast too much fear.
Enter Sir Andrew, with his Head broke.
Sir A.
For the love of God, a surgeon; send one presently
to sir Toby.
Oli.
What's the matter?
Sir A.
H'as broke my head across, and h'as given sir
Toby a bloody coxcomb too: for the love of God, your
help: I had rather than forty pound, I were at home.
Oli.
Who has done this, sir Andrew?
Sir A.
The count's gentleman, one Cesario: we took
him for a coward, but he's the very devil incardinate.
Duk.
My gentleman, Cesario?
Sir A.
Od's lifelings, here he is:—You broke my
head for nothing; and that that I did, I was set on to
do't by sir Toby.
Vio.
Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you:
You drew your sword upon me, without cause;
But I bespake you fair, and hurt you not.
Sir A.
If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt
me; I think, you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb.
Enter Sir Toby, drunk, led by the Clown.
-- 80 --
Here comes sir Toby halting, you shall hear more: but
if he had not been in drink, he would have tickl'd you
othergates than he did.
Duk.
How now, gentleman? how is't with you?
Sir T.
That's all one; h'as hurt me, and there's the
end on't.—Sot, did'st see Dick surgeon, sot?
Clo.
O, he's drunk, sir Toby, an note hour agone; his
eyes were set at eight i'the morning.
Sir T.
Then he's a rogue, and a past-measure paynim: note note
I hate a drunken rogue.
Oli.
Away with him: Who hath made this havock
with them?
Sir A.
I'll help you, sir Toby, because we'll be drest
together.
Sir T.
Will you help an ass-head, and a coxcomb,
and a knave; a thin-fac'd knave, a gull?
Oli.
Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to.
[Exeunt Clown, and some Attendants,
with Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew.
Enter Sebastian.
Seb.
I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kinsman;
But, had it been the brother of my blood,
I must have done no less, with wit, and safety.
You throw a strange regard upon me, and
By that I do perceive it hath offended you;
Pardon, me, sweet one, even for the vows
We made each other but so late ago.
Duk.
One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons;
A natural perspective, that is, and is not.
Seb.
Antonio, o my dear Antonio!
How have the hours rack'd and tortur'd me,
Since I have lost thee?
-- 81 --
Ant.
Sebastian are you?
Seb.
Fear'st thou that, Antonio?
Ant.
How have you made division of yourself?—
An apple, cleft in two, is not more twain
Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian?
Oli.
Most wonderful!
Seb.
Do I stand there? I never had a brother:
Nor can there be that deity note in my nature,
Of here and every note where. I had a sister,
Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd:—
Of charity, what kin are you to me?
What countryman? what name? what parentage?
Vio.
Of Messaline: Sebastian was my father;
Such a Sebastian was my brother too,
So went he suited to his watry tomb:
If spirits can assume both form and suit,
You come to fright us.
Seb.
A spirit I am, indeed;
But am in that dimension grosly clad,
Which from the womb I did participate.
Were you a woman, as the rest goes even note,
I should my tears let fall upon your cheek,
As say, note Thrice welcome, drowned Viola.
Vio.
My father had a mole upon his brow.
Seb.
And so had mine.
Vio.
And dy'd that day when Viola from her birth
Had number'd thirteen years.
Seb.
O, that record is lively in my soul!
He finished, indeed, his mortal act,
That day that made my sister thirteen years.
Vio.
If nothing lets to make us happy both,
But this my masculine usurp'd attire,
-- 82 --
Do not embrace me, 'till each circumstance
Of place, time, fortune, do cohere, and jump,
That I am Viola: which to confirm,
I'll bring you to a captain in this town,
Where lye my maids weeds note; by whose gentle help
I was preserv'd note, to serve this noble count:
All the occurrence of my fortune since
Hath been between this lady, and this lord.
Seb.
So comes it, lady, [to Oli.] you have been mistook:
But nature to her bias drew in that.
You would have been contracted to a maid;
Nor are you therein, by my life, deceiv'd,
You are betroth'd both to a maid and man.
Duk.
Be not amaz'd; right noble is his blood.—
If this be so, as yet the glass seems true,
I shall have share in this most happy wreck:
Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times,
Thou never should'st love woman like to me.
Vio.
And all those sayings will I over-swear;
And all those swearings keep as true in soul,
As doth that orbed continent the fire
That severs day from night.
Duk.
Give me thy hand;
And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds.
Vio.
The captain, that did bring me first on shore,
Hath my maids garments: he, upon some action,
Is now in durance; at Malvolio's suit,
A gentleman, and follower of my lady's.
Oli.
He shall inlarge him:—Fetch Malvolio hither:—
And yet, alas, now I remember me,
They say, poor gentleman, he's much distract.
Re-enter Clown, with a Letter.
-- 83 --
A most extracting note frenzy of mine own
From my remembrance clearly banish'd his. note—
How does he, sirrah?
Clo.
Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the stave's
end, as well as a man in his case may do: h'as here
writ a letter to you, I should have given't you to-day
morning; but as a madman's epistles are no gospels, so
it skills not much when they are deliver'd.
Oli.
Open't, and read it.
Clo.
Look then to be well edify'd, when the fool delivers
the madman. By the Lord, madam,—
Oli.
How now, art thou mad?
Clo.
No, madam, I do but read madness: an your
ladyship will have it as it ought to be, you must allow
vox.
Oli.
Pr'ythee, read i'thy right wits.
Clo.
So I do, madona; but to read his right wits,
is to read thus: therefore perpend, my princess, and give
ear.
Oli.
Read it you, sirrah.
[to Fabian.
Fab. [reads.]
By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and
the world shall know it: though you have put me into
darkness, and given your drunken cousin rule over me,
yet have I the benefit of my senses as well as your ladyship.
I have your own letter, that induced me to the
semblance I put on; with the which I doubt not but to
do myself much right, or you much shame. Think of me
as you please. I leave my duty a little unthought of, and
speak out of my injury.
The madly us'd Malvolio.
Oli.
Did he write this?
Clo.
Ay, madam.
-- 84 --
Duk.
This savours not much of distraction.
Oli.
See him deliver'd, Fabian; bring him hither.
[Exit Fabian.
My lord, so please you, these things further thought on,
To think me as well a sister as a wife,
One day shall crown the alliance on't, so please you,
Here at my house, and at my proper cost.
Duk.
Madam, I am most apt to embrace your offer.—
Your master quits you: [to Vio.] and, for your service done him,
So much against the mettle of your sex,
So far beneath your soft and tender breeding,
And since you call'd me master for so long,
Here † is my hand; you shall from this time be
Your master's mistress.
Oli.
A sister?—you are she.
Re-enter Fabian, with Malvolio.
Duk.
Is this the madman?
Oli.
Ay, my lord, this same.—
How now, Malvolio?
Mal.
Madam, you have done me wrong,
Notorious wrong.
Oli.
Have I, Malvolio? no.
Mal.
Lady, you have. Pray you, peruse that &dagger2; letter:
You must not now deny it is your hand,
Write from it, if you can, in hand, or phrase;
Or say, 'tis not your seal, not your invention:
You can say none of this: Well, grant it then,
And tell me, in the modesty of honour,
Why you have given me such clear lights of favour;
Bad me come smiling, and cross-garter'd, to you,
To put on yellow stockings, and to frown
Upon sir Toby, and the lighter people:
-- 85 --
And, acting this in an obedient hope,
Why have you suffer'd me to be imprison'd,
Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest,
And made the most notorious geck, and gull note,
That e'er invention play'd on? tell me why?
Oli.
Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing,
Though, I confess, much like the character:
But, out of question, 'tis Maria's hand.
And, now I do bethink me, it was she
First told me, thou wast mad; then cam'st in smiling, note
And in such forms which here were presuppos'd
Upon thee in the letter. Pr'ythee, be content:
This practice hath most shrewdly past upon thee;
But, when we know the grounds, and authors, of it,
Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge
Of thine own cause.
Fab.
Good madam, hear me note speak;
And let no quarrel, nor no brawl to come,
Taint the condition of this present hour,
Which I have wonder'd at. In hope it shall not,
Most freely I confess, myself, and Toby,
Set this device against Malvolio here,
Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts
We had conceiv'd against him: Maria writ
The letter, at sir Toby's great importance;
In recompence whereof, he hath marry'd her.
How with a sportful malice it was follow'd
May rather pluck on laughter than revenge;
If that the injuries be justly weigh'd,
That have on both sides past.
Oli.
Alas, poor fool, how have they baffl'd thee!
Clo.
Why, some are born great, some atchieve greatness,
-- 86 --
and some have greatness thrown note upon them.—I was
one, sir, in this interlude, one sir Topas, sir; but that's
all one: By the Lord, fool, I am not mad:—But do you
remember, madam, Why laugh you at such a barren rascal?
an you smile not, he's gag'd: And thus the whirligig of
time brings in his revenges.
Mal.
I'll be reveng'd on the whole pack of you.
[Exit Malvolio.
Oli.
He hath been most notoriously abus'd.
Duk.
Pursue him, and intreat him to a peace:—
He hath not told us of the captain yet;
When that is known, and golden time convents,
A solemn combination shall be made
Of our dear souls:—Mean time, sweet sister,
We will not part from hence.—Cesario, come;
For so you shall be, while you are a man;
But, when in other habits you are seen,
Orsino's mistress, and his fancy's queen.
[Exeunt.
SONG.
Clo.
[1.]
When that14Q0448 I was and a little tiny boy,
with hey, ho, the wind, and the rain,
a foolish thing was but a toy,
for the rain it raineth every day.
2.
But when I came to man's estate,
with hey, ho, &c.
'gainst knaves, and thieves, men shut their gate,
for the rain, &c.
3.
But when I came, alas, to wive,
-- 87 --
with hey, ho, &c.
by swaggering could I never thrive,
for the rain, &c.
4.
But when I came unto my beds,
with hey, ho, &c.
with toss-pots still had drunken heads,
for the rain, &c.
5.
A great while ago the world begun,
with hey, ho, &c.
but that's all one, our play is done,
and we'll strive to please you every day.
