« PreviousContinue »
Duke. What dost thou know?
Vio. Too well what love women to men may owe: In faith, they are as true of heart as we. My father had a daughter lov`d a man, As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman, I should your lordship.
And what's her history? Vio. A blank, my lord: She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek: she pin'd in thought: And, with a green and yellow melancholy, She sat like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief. Was not this love, indeed? We men may say more, swear more: but, indeed, Our shows are more than will; for still we prove Much in our vows, but little in our love.
Duke. But died thy sister of her love, my boy? Vio. I am all the daughters of my father's house, And all the brothers too;- and yet I know not:Sir, shall I to this lady?
Ay, that's the theme. To her in haste; give her this jewel; say, My love can give no place, bide no denay.
SCENE V.-Olivia's Garden.
Sir To. To anger him, we'll have the bear again; and we will fool him black and blue:-Shall we not, sir Andrew?
Sir And. An we do not, it is pity of our lives. Enter MARIA.
Sir To. Here comes the little villain :- How now, my nettle of India?
Mar. Get ye all three into the box-tree: Malvolio's coming down this walk; he has been yonder i' the sun, practising behavior to his own shadow, this half hour: observe him, for the love of mockery; for, I know, this letter will make a contemplative idiot of him. Close, in the name of jesting! [The men hide themselves.] Lie thou there; Throws down a letter,] for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling. [Exit MARIA.
Mal. 'Tis but fortune; all is fortune. Maria once told me, she did affect me: and I have heard herself come thus near, that, should she fancy, it should be one of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a more exalted respect than any one else that follows her. What should I think on't?
Sir To. Here's an overweening rogue! Fab. O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him, how he jets under his advanced plumes!
Sir And. 'Slight, I could so beat the rogue:Sir To. Peace, I say.
Mal. To be count Malvolio;—
Sir To. Ah, rogue!
Sir And. Pistol him, pistol him.
Sir To. Peace, peace!
Mal. There is example for't; the lady of the strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe. Sir And. Fie on him, Jezebel!
Fab. O, peace! now he's deeply in, look, how imagination blows him.
Mal. Having been three months married to her, sitting in my state.
Sir To. O, for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye! Mal. Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet gown; having come from a day-bed, where I left Olivia sleeping.
Sir To. Fire and brimstone!
Fab. O, peace, peace!
Mal. And then to have the humor of state: and after a demure travel of regard,-telling them, I know my place, as I would they should do theirs,to ask for my kinsman Toby:
Sir To. Bolts and shackles!
Fab. O, peace, peace, peace! now, now.
Mal. Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for him: I frown the while; and, perchance, wind up my watch, or play with some rich jewel. Toby approaches; court'sies there to me: Sir To. Shall this fellow live?
Fab. Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace.
Mal. I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar smile with an austere regard of control: Sir To. And does not Toby take you a blow o'. the lips then?
Mal. Saying, Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast me on your neice, give me this prerogative of speech:
Sir To. What, what?
Mal. You must amend your drunkenness.
Fab. Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot.
Mal. Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish knight:
Sir And. That's me, I warrant you.
Mal. One Sir Andrew:
Sir And. I knew, 'twas I; for many do call me fool. Mal. What employment have we here? [Taking up the letter. Fab. Now is the woodcock near the gin. mate reading aloud to him! Sir To. O, peace! and the spirit of humors inti
be her very C's, her U's, and her T's, and thus makes Mal. By my life, this is my lady's hand: these she her great P's. It is, in contempt of question
Sir And. Her C's, her U's, and her T's,: Why that!
Mal. [Reads.] To the unknown beloved, this and my good wishes: her very phrases!- By your leave, wax.-Soft!- and the impressure her Lucrece, with which she uses to seal: 'tis my lady: To whom should this be?
Fab. This wins him, liver and all.
No man must know.- What follows? the numbers altered! - No man must know:-If this should be thee, Malvolio?
Sir To. Marry, hang thee, brock!
Fab. A fustian riddle!
Fab. What a dish of poison hath she dressed him! Sir To. And with what wing the stannyel checks at it!
Mal. I may command where I adore. Why, she may command me; I serve her, she is my lady. Why, this is evident to any formal capacity. There is no obstruction in this;-And the end,- What should that alphabetical position portend? If I could make that resemble something in me,- Sortly! M, O, A, I.
Sir To. O, Ay! make up that;-he is now at a cold scent.
Fab. Sowter will cry upon't for all this, though it be as rank as a fox. Mal. M,-Malvolio;-M,-why, that begins my
Fab. Did not I say, he would work it out? the cur is excellent at faults.
Mal. M,- But then there is no consonancy in the sequel that suffers under probation: A should follow, but O does.
Fab. And 0 shall end, I hope.
Sir To. Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make him thy smiling; thy smiles become thee well: there
Mal. And then, I comes behind; Fab. Ay, an you had an eye behind you, you might see more detraction at your heels, than fortunes before you.
Mal. M, O, A, I;-This simulation is not as the former and yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of these letters are in my name. Soft, here follows prose:- If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I am above thee; but be not afraid of greatness: Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them. Thy fates open their hands; let thy blood and spirit embrace them. And, to inure thyself to what thou art like to be, cast thy humble slough and appear fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants: let thy tongue tang arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of singularity: she thus advises thee, that sighs for thee. Remember who commended thy yellow stockings, and wished to see thee ever cross-gartered: I say, remember. Go to, thou art made, if thou desirest to be so; if not, let me see thee a steward still, the fellow of servants, and not worthy to touch for tune's fingers. Farewell. She that would alter services with thee, The fortunate-unhappy. Day-light and champian discovers not more: this is open. I will be proud, I will read politic authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off gross acquaintance, I will be point-de-vice', the very man. I do not now fool myself, to let imagination jade me; for every reason excites to this, that my lady loves me. She did commend my yellow stockings of late, she did praise my leg being cross-gartered; and in this she manifests herself to my love, and, with a kind of injunction, drives me to these habits
of her liking. I thank my stars, I am happy. I will be strange, stout, in yellow stockings, and crossgartered, even with the swiftness of putting on. Jove, and my stars, be praised! Here is yet a postscript. Thou canst not choose but know who I am. If thou entertainest my love, let it appear in fore in my presence still smile, dear my sweet, I pr'ythee. Jove, I thank thee.-I will smile; I will do every thing that thou wilt have me. [Exit. Fab. I will not give my part of this sport for a pension of thousands to be paid from the Sophy. Sir To. I could marry this wench for this de vice.
Sir And. So could I too.
Sir To. And ask no other dowry with her, but such another jest.
Sir And. Nor I neither.
Fab. Here comes my noble gull-catcher.
Sir To. Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip,1 and become thy bond slave?
Sir And. Ifaith, or I either.
Sir To. Why, thou hast put him in such a dream that, when the image of it feaves him, he must run mad.
Mar. Nay, but say true; does it work upon him? Sir To. Like aqua-vitæ with a midwife. Mar. If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark his first approach before my lady: he will come to her in yellow stockings, and 'tis a color she abhors; and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests; and he will smile upon her, which will now be so unsuitable to her disposition, being addicted to a melancholy as she is, that it cannot but turn him into a notable contempt; if you will see it, follow me.
Sir To. To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit!
Sir And. I'll make one too.
SCENE I.-Olivia's Garden.
Enter VIOLA, and CLOWN with a tabor. Vio. Save thee, friend, and thy music: Dost thou live 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 mayst 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 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 disgraced them.
Vio. Thy reason, man?
Clo. Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words; and words are grown so false, I am loath 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 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 construe to her whence you come: who you are, and what you would, are out of my welkin: I might say, element; but the word is over-worn.
Vio. This fellow's 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 1 A boy's diversion, three and trip. See the play of Troilus and Cressida. A hawk not well trained.
That comes before his eye. This is a practice,
But wise men, folly-fallen, quite taint their wit.
Sir To. Save you, gentleman.
Vio. And you, sir.
Sir And. Dieu vous garde, monsieur.
Sir And. I hope, sir, you are; and I am yours. Sir To. Will you encounter the house! my nicce is desirous you should enter, if your trade be to
Vio. I am bound to your niece, sir; I mean, she is the list of my voyage.
Sir To. 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 To. I mean, to go, sir, to enter.
I pr'ythee, tell me, what thou think'st of me.
Vio. I will answer you with gait and entrance: And that no woman has; nor never none but we are prevented.
Enter OLIVIA and MARIA.
Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain odors on you!
Sir And. That youth's a rare courtier! Rain odors! well.
Vio. My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your own most pregnants and vouchsafed ear.
Sir And. Odors, pregnant, and vouchsafed:- I'll get 'em all three ready.
Oli. Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing.
[Exeunt Sir TOBY, Sir ANDREW, and MARIA. Give me your hand, sir.
Vio. My duty, madam, and most humble service.
Vio. Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess.
Your servant's servant is your servant, madam.
Oli. Give me leave, I beseech you: I did send,
Have you not set mine honor at the stake,
Enough is shown; a cyprus, not a bosom,
Oli. That's a degree to love.
Vio. No, not a grise; for 'tis a vulgar proof, That very oft we pity enemies.
Oli. Why, then, methinks, 'tis time to smile
O world, how apt the poor are to be proud!
Then westward-hoe: Grace and good disposition 'tend your ladyship! You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?
Shall mistress be of it, save I alone.
SCENE II.-A Room in Olivia's House.
Enter Sir TOBY BELCH, Sir ANDREW AGUE-
Sir And. No, faith, I'll not stay a jot longer.
Sir And. Marry, I saw your niece do more favors to the count's serving man, than ever she bestowed upon me: I saw't i' the orchard.
Sir To. Did she see thee the while, old boy? tell me that.
Sir And. As plain as I see you now.
Fab. This was a great argument of love in her towards you.
Sir And. 'Slight! will you make an ass o' me? Fab. I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of judgment and reason.
Sir To. And they have been grand jury-men, since before Noah was a sailor.
Fab. She did show favor to the youth in your sight, only to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse valor, to put fire in your heart, and brimstone in your liver: You should then have accosted her; and with some excellent jests, fire-new from the mint, you should have banged the youth into dumbness. This was looked for at your hand, and this was baulked: the double gilt of this opportunity you let time wash off, and you are now sailed into the north of my lady's opinion; where you will hang like an icicle on a Dutchman's beard, unless you do redeem it by some laudable attempt either of valor, or policy.
Sir And. And't be any way, it must be with valor; for policy I hate: I had as lief be a Brownist," as a politician.
Sir To. Why then, build me thy fortunes upon the basis of valor. Challenge me the count's youth to fight with him; hurt him in eleven places; my niece shall take note of it: and assure thyself, there is no love broker in the world can more prevail in man's commendation with woman, than report of valor.
Fab. There is no way but this, sir Andrew.
Sir And. Will either of you bear me a challenge to him?
Sir To. Go, write it in a martial hand; be curst and brief; it is no matter how witty so it be eloquent, and full of invention: taunt him with the licence of ink: if thou thou'st him some thrice, it shall not be amiss; and as many lies as will lie in thy sheet of paper, although the sheet were big enough for the bed of Ware in England, set 'em down; go, about it. Let there be gall enough in
Separatists in Queen Elizabeth's reign. •Crabbed. In Hertfordshire, which held forty persons.
thy ink: though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter: About it.
Sir And. Where shall I find you? Sir To. We'll call thee at the cubiculo: Go. [Exit Sir ANDREW. Fab. This is a dear manikin to you, sir Toby. Sir. To. I have been dear to him, lad; some two thousand strong, or so. Fab. We shall have a rare letter from him: but you'll not deliver it!
Sir To. Never trust me then ; and by all means stir on the youth to an answer. I think, oxen and wainropes cannot hale them together. For Andrew, if he were opened, and you find so much blood in his liver as will clog the foot of a flea, I'll eat the rest of the anatomy.
Fab. And his opposite, the youth, bears in his visage no great presage of cruelty. Enter MARIA.
Sir To. Look, where the youngest wren of nine
Mar. If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourselves into stitches follow me; yon' gull Malvolio is turned heathen, a very renegado; for there is no Christian, that means to be saved by believing rightly, can ever believe such impossible passages of grossness. He's in yellow stockings.
Sir To. And cross-gartered?
Mar. Most villanously; like a pedant that keeps a school i the church.-I have dogged him, like his murderer: He does obey every point of the letter that I dropped to betray him. He does smile his face into more lines, than are in the new map, with the augmentation of the Indies: you have not seen such a thing as 'tis: I can hardly forbear hurling things at him. I know, my lady will strike him; if she do, he'll smile, and take it for a great favor. Sir To. Come, bring us, bring us where he is.
SCENE III-A street.
Enter ANTONIO and SEBASTIAN. Seb. I would not, by my will, have troubled you; But since you make your pleasure of your pains, I will no further chide you.
Ant. I could not stay behind you; my desire, More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth: And not all love to see you, (though so much, As might have drawn one to a longer voyage,) But jealousy what might befall your travel, Being skilless in these parts: which to a stranger, Unguided, and unfriended, often prove Rough and unhospitable: My willing love, The rather by these arguments of fear, Set forth in your pursuit.
My kind Antonio,
I can no other answer make, but thanks,
Ant. To-morrow, sir; best, first, go see your lodging.
Seb. I am not weary, and 'tis long to night;
With the memorials, and the things of fame,
Would you'd pardon me; I do not without danger walk these streets: Once, in a sea-tight, 'gainst the Count his gallies, I did some service; of such note, indeed, That, were I ta'en here, it would scarce be answer'd. Seb. Belike, you slew great number of his people? Ant. The offence is not of such a bloody nature; Albeit the quality of the time and quarrel, Might well have given us bloody argument. It might have since been answer'd in repaying What we took from them; which for traffic's sake Most of our city did: only myself stood out: For which, if I be lapsed in this place, I shall pay dear.
Do not then walk too open.
Ant. It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here's my purse; In the south suburbs, at the Elephant, Is best to lodge: I will bespeak our diet, Whiles you beguile the time, and feed your ledge,
Mal. Sweet lady, ho, ho.
Oli. Smil'st thou?
sent for thee upon a sad occasion.
Mal. Sad, lady? I could be sad: This does make some obstruction in the blood, this cross-gartering: But what of that, if it please the eye of one, it is with me as the very true sonnet is: Please one, and please all.
Oli. Why, how dost thou, man? what is the matter with thee?
Mal. Not black in my mind, though yellow in my legs: It did come to his hands, and commands shall be executed. I think we do know the sweet Roman hand.
Oli. Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio?
Mal. To bed! ay, sweet-heart: and I'll come to thee.
and kiss thy hand so oft? Oli. God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so,
Mar. How do you, Malvolio?
Mal. At your request? Yes; Nightingales answer daws.
Mar. Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady?
Mal. Be not afraid of greatness: 'Twas well writ. Oli. What meanest thou by that, Malvolio?
Mal. Some are born great.
Mal. If not, let me see thee a servant still.
Serv. Madam, the young gentleman of the count Orsino's is returned; I could hardly entreat him back: he attends your ladyship's pleasure.
Oli. I'll come to him. [Exit Servant.] Good Maria, let this fellow be looked to. Where's my cousin Toby! Let some of my people have a special care of him; I would not have him miscarry for the half of my dowry.
[Exeunt OLIVIA and MARIA Mal. Oh ho! do you come near me now? no know-worse man than sir Toby to look to me? This concurs directly with the letter: she sends him on • Grave.
purpose, that I may appear stubborn to him; for she incites me to that in the letter. Cast thy humble slough, says she: be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants,- let thy tongue tang with arguments of state,-put thyself into the trick of singularity; and, consequently, sets down the manner how; as, a sad face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in the habit of some sir of note, and so forth. I have limed her; but it is Jove's doing, and Jove make me thankful! And, when she went away now, Let this fellow be looked to: Fellow! not Malvolio, nor after my degree, but fellow. Why, every thing adheres together; that no dram of a scruple, no scruple of a scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous or unsafe circumstance,- What can be said? Nothing, that can be, can come between me and the full prospect of my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked. Re-enter MARIA, with Sir TOBY BELCH, and FABIAN.
Sir To. Which way is he, in the name of sanctity! If all the devils in hell be drawn in little, and Legion himself possessed him, yet I'll speak to him. Fab. Here he is, here he is:- How is't with you, sir? how is't with you, man?
Mal. Go off; I discard you, let me enjoy my private; go off.
Mar. Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did not I tell you!-Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a care of him.
Mal. Ah, ha! does she so?
Sir To. Go to, go to; peace, peace, we must deal gently with him; let me alone. How do you, Malvolio! how is't with you? What, man! defy the devil: consider he's an enemy to mankind. Mal. Do you know what you say? Mar. La you, an you speak ill of the devil, how he takes it at heart! Pray God, he be not bewitched! Fab. Carry his water to the wise woman. Mar. Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning, if I live. My lady would not lose him for more than I'll say.
Mal. How now, mistress?
Sir To. Prythee, hold thy peace: this is not the way: Do you not see, you move him? let me alone with him.
Fab. No way but gentleness; gently, gently: the fiend is rough, and will not be roughly used. Sir To. Why, how now, my bawcock ? how dost thou, chuck?
Sir To. 1st possible?
Fab. If this were played upon a stage cod condemn it as an improbable fiction. Sir To. His very genius hath taken the infection of the device, man.
Mar. Nay, pursue him now; lest the device take air, and taint.
Fab. Why, we shall make him mad, indeed.
Sir To. Come, we'll have him in a dark room, and bound. My niece is already in the belief that he is mad: we may carry it thus, for our pleasure, and his penance, till our very pastime, tired out of breath, prompt us to have mercy on him; at which time, we will bring the device to the bar, and crown thee for a finder of madmen. But see, but see.
Enter Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK.
Fab. More matter for a May morning.
Sir And. Here's the challenge, read it; I warrant, there's vinegar and pepper in't.
Fab. Is't so saucy?
6 Jolly cock, beau and coq. A play among boys.
Sir And. Ay, is it, I warrant him; do but read. Sir To. Give me. [Reads.] Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art but a scurvy fellow. Fab. Good and valiant.
Sir To. Wonder not nor admire not in thy mind, why I do call thee so, for I will show thee no rea son for't.
Fab. A good note: that keeps you from the blow of the law.
Sir To. Thou comest to the lady Olivia, and in my sight she uses thee kindly: but thou liest in thy throat, that is not the matter I challenge thee for.
Fab. Very brief, and exceeding good sense-less. Sir To. I will way-lay thee going home, where if it be thy chance to kill me,— Fab. Good.
Sir To. Thou killest me like a rogue and a villain.
Fab. Still you keep o' the windy side of the law: Good.
Sir To. Fare thee well; And God have mercy upon one of our souls! He may have mercy upon mine: but my hope is better, and so look to thyself. Thy friend, as thou usest him, and thy sworn ene
ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK. not: I'll give't him. Sir To. If this letter move him not, his legs can
Mar. You may have very fit occasion for't; he is now in some commerce with my lady, and will by and by depart.
Sir To. Go, sir Andrew; scout me for him at the corner of the orchard, like a bum-bailift; so soon as ever thou seest him, draw; and, as thou drawest, swear horrible; for it comes to pass oft, that a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent sharply twanged off, gives manhood more approbation than ever proof itself would have earned him.Away.
Sir And. Nay, let me alone for swearing. [Exit. Sir To. Now will not I deliver his letter: for the behavior of the young gentleman gives him out to be of good capacity and breeding; his employment between his lord and my niece confirms no less; therefore this letter, being so excellently ignorant, will breed no terror in the youth; he will find it comes from a clodpole. But, sir, I will deliver his challenge by word of mouth; set upon Ague-cheek a notable report of valor; and drive the gentleman, (as, I know, this youth will aptly receive it,) into a most hideous opinion of his rage, skill, fury, and impetuosity. This will so frighten them both, that they will kill one another by the look, like cockatrices.
Enter OLIVIA and VIOLA.
Fab. Here he comes with your niece: give them way, till he take leave, and presently after him. Sir To. I will meditate the while upon some horrid message for a challenge.
[Exeunt Sir TOBY, FABIAN and MARIA. Oli. I have said too much unto a heart of stone, And laid mine honor too unchary out: There's something in me, that reproves my fault; But such a headstrong potent fault it is, That it but mocks reproof.
Vio. With the same 'havior that your passion bears,
Go on my master's griefs.
Oli. Here, wear this jewel for me, 'tis my picture; Refuse it not, it hath no tongue to vex you: And, I beseech you, come again to-morrow. What shall you ask of me, that I'll deny, That honor, sav'd, may upon asking give? Vio. Nothing but this, your true love for my mas