32 ever the devil could have made you our de-i Mrs. Page. Good George, be not angry: I light? knew of your purpose ; turned my daughter Ford. What, a hodge-pudding? a bag of flax? | into green ; and, indeed, she is now with the Mrs. Page. A puffed man? doctor at the deanery, and there married. Page. Old, cold, withered, and of intolerable entrails? Enter Caius. Ford. And one that is aş slanderous as Satan? | Caius. Vere is mistress Page? By gar, I am Page. And as poor as Job ? Ford. And as wicked as his wife? cozened; I ha' married un garcon, a boy; un Eva. And given to fornications, and to ta paisan, by gar, a boy; it is not Anne Page : by gar, I am cozened. verns, and sack, and wine, and metheglins, and to drinkings, and swearings, and starings, Mrs. Page. Why, did you take her in green ? pribbles and prabbles ? Fal. Well, I am your theme: you have the Caius. Ay, be gar, and 'tis a boy: be gar, I'll raise all Windsor. (Exit Caius. start of me; I am dejected; I am not able to About | Ford. This is strange: Who hath got the answer the Welsh flannel; ignorance itself is right Anne ? a pluminet o'er me: use me as you will. Ford. Marry, Sir, we'll bring you to Windsor, | Page. My heart misgives me: Here comes master Fenton. to one master Brook, that you have cozened of money, to whom you should have been a pan Enter Fenton und Anne Page. der: over and above that you have suffered, I think to repay that money will be a biting | How now, master Fenton ? affliction. | Anne. Pardon, good father! good my mother, Mrs. Ford. Nay, husband, let that go to pardon! make amends : Page. Now, mistress ? how chance you went Forgive that sum, and so we'll all be friends. not with master Slender ? Ford. Well, here's my hand; all's forglven Mrs. Page. Why went you not with master at last. doctor, maid ? Page. Yet be cheerful, knight: thou shalt eat Fent. You do amaze her: Hear the truth a posset to-night at my house ; where I will of it. desire thee to laugh at my wife, that now laughs You would have married her most shamefully, at thee: Tell her, master Slender hath married Where there was no proportion held in love. her daughter. The truth is, She and I, long since contracted, Mrs. Page. Doctors doubt that: If Anne Are now so sure, that nothing can dissolve us. Page be my daughter, she is, by this, doctor The offence is holy, that she hath committed : Caius' wife. '[Aside. And this deceit loses the name of craft, Of disobedience, or ünduteous title ; Since therein she doth evitatet and shun A thousand irreligious cursed hours, Page. Son ! how now? how now, son ? have Which forced marriage would have brought you despatched ? upon her. Slen. "Despatched-I'll make the best in | Ford. Stand not amaz'd: here is no remeGloucestershire know on't; would I were dy :hanged, la, else. In love, the heavens themselves do guide the Page. Of what, son ? state; Slen. I came yonder at Eton to marry mis- Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate. tress Anne Page, and she's a great lubberly Fal. I am glad, though you have ta'en a boy: If it had not been i’ the church, I would special stand to strike at me, that your arrow have swinged him, or he should have swinged hath glanced. me. If I did not think it had been Anne Page. Well, what remedy? Fenton, heaven Page, would I might never stir, and 'tis a give thee joy! post-master's boy. What cannot be eschew'd, must be embrac'd. Page. Upon my life then you took the wrong. Fal. When night-dogs run, all sorts of deer Slen. What need you tell me that? I think are chas'd. so, when I took a boy for a girl: If I had Eva. I will dance and eat plums at your been married to him, for all he was in woman's wedding. apparel, I would not have had him. | Mrs. Page. Well, I will muse no further :* Page. Why, this is your own folly: Did not - Master Fenton, I tell you, how you should know my daughter Heaven give you many, many merry days! by her garments ? Good husband, let us every one go home, Slen. I went to her in white, and cried mum, And laugh this sport o'er by a country fire; and she cried budget, as Anne and I had ap- Sir John and all." pointed; and yet it was not Anne, but a post | Ford. Let it be so :-Sir John, master's boy." To master Brook you yet shall hold your word : Era. Jeshu ! Master Slender, cannot you see For he, to-night, shall lie with Mrs. Ford. but marry boys ? Page. O, I am vexed at heart: What shall I (Ereunt. do ? * Confound her by your questions. + Avoid THE TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL. PERSONS REPRESENTED. ORSINO, Duke of Illyria. FABIAN, ) Servants to Olivia. OLIVIA, a rich Countess. Sebastian. Viola, in love with the Duke. MARIA, Olivia's woman. Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians, Sir Toby BELCH, Uncle of Olivia. and other Attendants. Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK. SCENE, a City in Illyria ; and the Sea-coast MALVOLIO, Steward to Olivia. near it. APK BELOW, Unclouker attending on ACT I. But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk, And water once a day her chamber round SCENE I.-An Apartment in the Duke's With eye-offending brine: all this, to season Palace. A brother's dead love, which she would keep Enter DUKE, CURIO, LORDS; Musicians And lasting, in her sad remembrance. [fresh, attending. Duke. 0, she, that hath a heart of that fine frame, Duke. If music be the food of love, play on, To pay this debt of love but to a brother, Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting, How will she love, when the rich golden shalt, The appetite may sicken, and so die. Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else That strain again ;-it had a dying fall : | That live in her ! when liver, brain, and heart, 0, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south, These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and That breathes upon a bank of violets, fillid, Stealing, and giving odour.-Enough; no (Her sweet perfections,) with one self king!more; Away before me to sweet beds of flowers; "Tis not so sweet now, as it was before. Love-thoughts lie rich, when canopied with O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou! bowers. (Exeunt. That notwithstanding thy capacity Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there, SCENE II.-The Sea Coast. Enter Viola, CAPTAIN, and Sailors. Vio. What country, friends, is this? Cap. Illyria, lady. Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord ? Vio. And what should I do in Illyria ? Duke. What, Curio ? My brother he is in Elysium. Cur. The hart. Perchance, he is not drown'd: What think Duke. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have: you, sailors ? 0, when mine eyes did see Olivia first, Cap. It is perchance, that you yourself were Methought, she purg'd the air of pestilence; saved. That instant was I turn'd into a hart; Vio. O my poor brother! and so, perchance, And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, may he be. E’er since pursue me.-How now ? what news Cap. True, madam: and, to comfort you with from her ? chance, Assure yourself, after our ship did split, When you, and that poor number saved with Val. So please my lord, I might not be ad you, mitted, Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother, But from ber handmaid do return this answer: Most provident in peril, bind himself The element itself, till seven years heat, (Courage and hope both teaching him the Shall not behold her face at ample view; practice) To a strong mast, that lived upon the sea, • Value Fantastical to the height. Heated. | Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back, D I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves, 1 you: I heard my lady talk of it yesterday; and So long as I could see. of a foolish knight, that you brought in one Vio. For saying so, there's gold: | night here, to be her wooer. Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope, Sir To. Who? Sir Andrew Ague-cheek? Whereto thy speech serves for authority, Mar. Ay, he. The like of him. Know'st thou this country ? | Sir To. He's as tall* a man as any's in Illyria. Cap. Ay, Madam, well; for I was bred and Mar. What's that to the purpose ? born, Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats Not three hours' travel from this very place. a year. Vio. Who governs here? Mar. Aye, but he'll have but a year in all Cap. A noble duke, in nature, these ducats; he's a very fool, and a prodigal. As in his name. Sir To. Fye, that you'll say so! he plays o' Vio. What is his name? the viol-de-gambo, and speaks three or four Cap. Orsino. languages word for word without book, and Vio. Orsino ! I have heard my father name hath all the good gifts of nature. He was a bachelor then. [him: Mar. He hath, indeed, -almost natural : for, Cap. And so is now, besides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller; Or was so very late : for but a month and, but that he hath the gift of a coward to Ago I went from hence; and then 'twas fresh allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought In murmur;(as, you know, what great ones do, among the prudent, he would quickly have the The less will prattle of,) that he did seek gift of a grave. The love of fair Olivia.' Sir To. By this hand, they are scoundrels, Vio. What's she? and substractors, that say so of him. Who are Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a they? count [ing her Mar. They that add moreover, he's drunk That died some twelvemonth since; then leav nightly in your company. In the protection of his son, her brother, Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece ; Who shortly also died : for whose dear love, I'll drink to her, as long as there is a passage They say, she hath abjur'd the company in my throat, and drink in Illyria : He's a And sight of men. coward and a coystril,t that will not drink to Vio. O, that I served that lady: my niece, till his brains turn o' the toe like a And might not be delivered to the world, parish-top. What, wench? Castiliano vulgo; Till I had made mine own occasion mellow, for here comes Sir Andrew Ague-face. What my estate is. Cap. 'I'hat were hard to compass; Enter Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK. Because she will admit no kind of suit, Sir And. Sir Toby, Belch! how now, Sir Toby No, not the duke's. Belch? Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, cap Sir To. Sweet Sir Andrew ! : tain; Sir And. Bless you, fair shrew. And though that nature with a beauteous wall Mar. And you too, Sir. Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee Sir To. Accost, Sir Andrew, accost. I will believe, thou hast a mind that suits Sir And. What's that? With this thy fair and outward character, Sir To, My niece's chamber-maid. I pray thee, and I'll pay thee bounteously, Sir And. Good mistress Accost, I desire bet Conceal me what I am, and be my aid ter acquaintance. For such disguise as, haply, shall become Mar. My name is Mary, Sir. 1. Sir To. You mistake, knight: accost, is, front her in this company. Is that the meaning of What else may hap, to time I will commit; accost? Only shape thou thy silence to my wit. Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll | | Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen. Sir To. An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, (see ! 'would you might'st never draw sword again. When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not Sir And. An you part so, mistress, I would Vio. I thank thee : Lead me on. [Exeunt. I might never draw sword again. Fair lady, SCENE III.-A Room in Olivia's House. do you think you have fools in hand ? | Mar. Sir, I have not you by the hand. Enter Sir TOBY Belch, and Maria. Sir And. Marry, but you shall have; and Sir To. What a plague means my niece, to here's my hand. take the death of her brother thus? I am sure, | Mar. Now, Sir, thought is free: I pray you, care's an enemy to life. bring your hand to the buttery-bar, and let it Mar. By troth, Sir Toby, you must come in drink. earlier o’nights; your cousin, my lady, takes Sir And. Wherefore sweet heart? what's great exceptions to your ill hours. your metaphor ? Sir To. her except before e efore excepted. Mar. It's dry. Sir. Mar. Ay, but you must confine yourself Sir And. Why, I think so; I am not such a.) within the modest limits of order. ass, but I can keep my hand dry. But what's Sir To. Confine? I'll confine myself no finer your jest ? than I am: these clothes are good enough to Mar. A dry jest, Sir. drink in, and so be these boots too; an they Sir And. Are you full of them? be not, let them hang themselves in their own Mar. Ay, Sir; I have them at my fingers' straps. ends : marry, now I let go your hand, I am Mar. That quaffing and drinking will undo barren. (Exit MARIA. * Approve. + Keystril, a bastard hawk. * Stout Sir To. O knight, thou lack'st a cup of ca- | wards you, Cesario, you are like to be much nary: When did I see thee so put down ? advanced; he hath known you but three days, Sir And. Never in your life, I think; unless and already you are no stranger. you see canary put me down: Methinks, some- Vio. You either fear his humour, or my times I have no more wit than a Christian, or negligence, that you call in question the conan ordinary man has : but I am a great eater tinuance of his love: Is he inconstant, Sir, in of beef, and, I believe, that does harm to my his favours ? wit. Val. No, believe me. Enter DUKE, CURio, and Attendants. Vio. I thank you. Here comes the count. Sir To. Pourquoy, my dear knight? Duke. Who saw Cesario, ho? Sir And. What is pourquoy? do or not do? I || Vio. On your attendance, my lord; here. would I had bestowed that time in the tongues, Duke. Stand you awhile aloof.Cesario, that I have in fencing, dancing, and bear_baita Thou know'st no less but all; I have unclasp'd ing: 0, had I but followed the arts ! To thee the book even of my secret soul: Sir To. Then hadst thou had an excellent Therefore, good youth, address thy gait* unto bead of hair. her; Sir And, Why, would that have mended my Be not denied access, stand at her doors, hair? And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow, Sir To. Past question ; for thou seest, it will Till thou have audience. not curl by nature. Vio. Sure, my noble lord, Sir And. But it becomes me well enough. | If she be so abandon’d to her sorrow does't not? As it is spoke, she never will admit me. Sir To. Excellent; it hang's like flax on al Duke. Be clamorous, and leap all civil distaff; and I hope to see a housewife take bounds, thee between her legs, and spin it off. Rather than make unprofited return. Sir And, 'Faith, I'll home to-morrow, Sir Vio. Say, I do speak with her, my lord; Toby: your niece will not be seen; or, if she What then ? be, it's four to one she'll none of me: the count Duke. O, then unfold the passion of my love, himself, here hard by, wooes her. Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith : Sir To. She'll none o' the count; she'll not It shall become thee well to act my woes; match above her degree, neither in estate, S o brdo n aithar'in estate | She will attend it better in thy youth, years, nor wit; I have heard her swear it! | Than in a nuncio of more grave aspect. Tut, there's life in't, man. Vio. I think not so, my lord. Sir And. I'll stay a month longer. I am a Duke. Dear lad, believe it; fellow oʻthe strangest mind i the world; il For they shall yet belie thy happy years delight in masques and revels sometimes alto That say, thou art a man: Diana's lip gether. Is not more smooth, and rubious; thy small Sir To. Art thou good at these kick-shaws, pipe knight? Is as the maiden's organ, shrill, and sound, Sir And. As any man in Ullyria. whatsoever And all is semblative a woman's part. he be, under the degree of my betters; and vet II know, thy constellation is right apt I will not compare with an old man. For this affair:-Some four, or five, attend him; Sir To. What is thy excellence in a galliard, All, if you will; for I myself am best, knight? When least in company Prosper well in this, Sir And. 'Faith, I can cut a caper. And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord, Sir To. And I can cut the mutton to't. To call his fortunes thine. Sir And. And, I think, I have the back-trick, Vio. I'll do my best, simply as strong as any man in Illyria. To woo your lady: yet, [Aside.) a barfult strife! Sir To. Wherefore are these things hid ? | Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wile. wherefore have these gifts a curtain before (Exeunt. them? are they like to take dust, like mistress SCENE V.-A Room in OLIVIA's House. Mall's picture? why dost thou not go to church Enter Maria, and Clown. in a galliard, and come home in a coranto? My very walk should be a jig; I would not so Mar. Nay, either tell me where thou hast much as make water, but in a sink-a-pace.* been, or I will not open my lips, so wide as a What dost thou mean? is it a world to hide | bristle may enter, in way of thy excuse: my virtues in? I did think, by the excellent con | lady will hang thee for thy absence. stitution of thy leg, it was forined under the Clo. Let her hang me: he, that is well hanged star of a galliard. in this world, needs to fear no colours. Sir And. Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indiffe Mar. Make that good. rent well in a flame-coloured stock.t Shall we Clo. He shall see none to fear. set about some revels? Mur. A good lentent answer: I can tell thee Sir To. What shall we do else? were we not where that saying was born, of, I fear no coborn under Taurus? lours, Sir And. Taurus ? that's sides and heart. Clo. Where, good mistress Mary? Sir To. No, Sir; it is legs and thighs. Let Mar. In the wars; and that may you be bold me see thee caper: ha! higher: ha, ha!-ex. to say in your foolery. cellent! il Clo. Well, God give them wisdom, that have [Exeunt. " it; and those that are fools, let them use their SCENE IV.-A Room in the Duke's Palace. | talents. Mar. Yet you will be hanged, for being so Enter VALENTINE, and Viola in man's attire. IOLA in man's attire. | long absent : or, to be turned away; is not that Val. If the duke continue these favours to- | as good as a hanging to you? * Go thy way . Cinquc sace, the name of a dance. Stocking. + Full of impediments. Short and spare. Clo. Many a good hanging prevents & bad more brain than a stone. Look you now, he's marriage; and, for turning away, let summer out of his guard already; unless you laugh and bear it out. minister occasion to him, he is gagged, 1 proMar. You are resolute then ? test, I take these wise men, that crow so at Clo. Not so neither; but I am resolved on these set kind of fools, no better than the fools' two points. zanies.* Mar. That, if one break,* the other will hold; Oli. (), you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, or, if both break, your gaskins fall. and taste with a distempered appetite. To be Clo. Apt, in good faith; very apt! Well, go generous, guiltless, and of free disposition, is thy way; if Sir Toby would leave drinking, to take those things for bird-bolts,t that you thou wert as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any deem cannon-bullets : There is no slander in in Illyria. an allowed fool, though he do nothing but rail ; Mar. Peace, you rogue, no more o' that; | nor no railing in a known discreet man, though here comes my lady: make your excuse wisely, he do nothing but reprove. you were best. (Exit. | Clo. Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for thou speakest well of fools ! Enter Olivia, und MALVOLIO. Clo. Wit, and't be thy will, put me into good Re-enter Maria. fooling! Those wits, that think they have thee, Mar. Madam, there is at the gate a young do very oft prove fools; and I, that am sure f gentleman, much desires to speak with you. Tack thee, may pass for a wise man : For what! Oli. From the count Orsino, is it? says Quinapalus? Better a witty fool, than a Mar. I know not, madam ; 'tis a fair young foolish wit. God bless thee, lady! man, and well attended. Oli. Take the fool away. oli. Who of my people hold him in delay ? Clo. Do you not hear, fellows ? Take away Mar, Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman, the lady. Oli, Fetch him off, I pray you; he speaks Oli. Go to, you're a dry fool ; I'll no more of nothing but madman: Fye on him! (Erit you : besides, you grow dishonest. MARIA.) Go you, Malvolio; if it be a suit from Clo. Two faults, madonna,t that drink and the count, I am sick, or not at home; what you good counsel will amend : for give the dry fool will, to dismiss it. (Exit MALVOLIO.] Now drink, then is the fool not dry; bid the dishon- you see, Sir, how your fooling grows old, and est man mend himself; if he mend, he is no people dislike it. longer dishonest; if he cannot, let the botcher Clo. Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if d him : Any thing, that's mended, is but thy eldest son should be a fool : whose skull patched : virtue, that transgresses, is but pat-Jove cram with brains, for here he comes, one ched with sin; and sin, that amends, is but of thy kin, has a most weak pia mater. patched with virtue : If that this simple syllo Enter Sir Toby BELCH. gism will serve, so; if it will not, What remedy? As there is no true cuckold but calamity, . Oli. By mine honour, half drunk.--What is so beauty's a flower :-the lady bade take away he at the gate, cousin ? the fool; therefore, I say again, take her away. Sir To. A gentleman. Oli. Sir, I bade them take away you. Oli. A gentleman ? What gentleman ? Clo, Misprision in the highest degree!-Lady, Sir To. "Tis a gentleman here-A plague o' Cucullus non facit monachum ; that's as much as facit monachim that as much as I these pickle-herrings !-How now, sot? to say, I wear not motely in my brain. Good | Clo. Good Sir Toby,— madonna, give me leave to prove you a fool. Oli. Cousin, cousin, how have you come so Oli. Can you do it? early by this lethargy? Clo. Dexterously, good madonna. Sir To. Lechery ! I defy lechery: There's one Oli. Make your proof. at the gate. Clo. I must catechize you for it, madonna; Oli. Ay, marry; what is he? Good my mouse of virtue, answer me. Sir To. Let him be the devil, an he will, I Oli. Well, Sir, for want of other idleness, care not: give me faith, say I.' Well, it's all I'll 'bide your proof. (Exit. Clo. Good madonna, why mourn'st thou ? Oli. What's a drunken man like, fool ? Oli, Good fool, for my brother's death. Clo. Like a drown'd man, a fool, and a madClo. I think, his soul is in hell, madonna. | man: one draught above heat makes him a Oli. I know his soul is in heaven, fool. fool; the second mads him; and a third drowns Clo. The more fool you, madonna, to mourn him. for your brother's soul being in heaven.--Take Oli. Go thou and seek the coroner, and let away the fool, gentlemen... him sit o' my coz; for he's in the third degree Oli. What think you of this fool, Malvolio ? of drink, he's drown'd: go look after him., doth he not mend ? Clo. He is but mad yet, madonna ; and the Mal. Yes; and shall do, till the pangs of fool shall look to the madman. [Exit CLOWN. death shake him : Infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever make the better fool. Re-enter. MALVOLIO. Clo, God send you, Sir, a speedy infirmity, Mul. Madam, yond young fellow swears he for the better increasing your folly Sir Toby | will speak with you. I told him you were sick ; will be sworn, that I am no fox; but he will he takes on him to unders | he takes on him to understand so much, and not pass his word for two-pence that you are therefore comes to speak with you: I told him no fool. you were asleep; he seems to have a fore-knowOli. How say you to that, Malvolio ? ledge of that too, and therefore comes to speak Mal. 1 marvel your ladyship takes delight in with you. What is to be said to him, lady? such a barren rascal ; I saw him put down the he's fortified against any denial. other day with an ordinary fool, that has no Oli. Tell him, he shall not speak with me, * Points were hooks which fastened the hose or brecches. * Fools' baubles. Short arrows. Lying | Italian, mistress, dame, | The cover of the brain. |