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the head and shoulders, and have given ourselves 'cozened; I ha' married un garçon, a boy; un pas. without scruple to hell, that ever the devil could san, by gar, a boy; it is not Anne Page : by gar, i have made you our delight?
am 'cozened. Ford. What, a hodge-pudding ? a bag of flax ? Mrs. Page. Why, did you take her in green? Mrs. Page. A pufled man?
Caius. Ay, be gar, and 'uis a boy: be gar, I'll Page. Old, cold, withered, and of intolerable raise all Windsor.
(Exit Caius. entrails.
Ford. This is strange: Who hath got the right Ford. And one that is as slanderous as Satan? Anne ? Page. And as poor as Job ?
Page. My heart misgives me: Here comes masFord. And as wicked as his wife?
ter Fenton. Era. And given to fornications, and to taverns, and sack, and wine, and metheglins, and to drink
Enter Fenton and Anne Page. ings, and swearings, and starings, pribbles and prabbles ?
How now master Fenton ? Fal. Well, I am your theme: you have the start Anne. Pardon, good father! good my mother of me; I am dejected; I am not able to answer pardon ! the Welch flannel; ignorance itself is a plummet Page. Now, mistress ? how chance you went o'er me: use me as you will.
not with master Slender ? Ford. Marry, sir, we'll bring you to Windsor, Mrs. Page. Why went you not with master docto one master Brook, that you have cozened or tor, maid ? money, to whom you should have been a pander:
Fent. You do amazel her: Hear the truth of it. over and above that you have suffered, I think, to You would have married her most shamefully, repay that money will be a biting allliction. Where there was no proportion held in love. Mrs. Ford. Nay, husband, let that go to make The truth is, she and I, long since contracted, amends :
Are now so sure that nothing can dissolve us. Forgive that sum, and so we'll all be friends. The offence is holy, that she hath committed: Ford. Well, here's my hand; all's forgiven at And this deceit loses the name of craft, last.
Or disobedience, or unduteous titie; Page. Yet be cheerful, knight: thou shalt eat a Since therein she doth evitates and shun posset to-night at my house; where I will desire A thousand irreligious cursed hours, thee to laugh at my wife, that now laughs at thee: Which forced marriage would have brought upon Tell her, master Slender hath married her daughter.
her. Mrs. Page. Doctors doubt that: If Anne Page Ford. Stand not amaz’d: here is no remedy: be my daughter, she is, by this, doctor Cajus' wife. In love, the heavens themselves do guide the state ;
(.Aside. Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate.
Fal. I am glad, though you have ta'en a special Enter Slender.
stand to strike at me, that your arrow hath glanced. Slen. Whoo, ho! ho! father Page!
Page. Well, what remedy ? Fenton, heaven giet
thee joy! Page. Son! 'how now ? how now, son ? have you What cannot be eschew'd, must be embrac'd. despatched ?
Fal. When night-dogs run, all sorts of deer are Slen. Despatched—I'll make the best in Gloces
chas'd. tershire know on't; would I were hanged, la, else. Eva. I will dance and eat plumbs at your wedPage. Of what, son ?
ding. Slen. I came yonder at Eton to marry mistress Anne Page, and she's a great lubberly boy: If it
Mrs. Page. Well, I will muse no further :
Master Fenton, had not been i' the church, I would have swinged Heaven give you many, many merry days! him, or he should have swinged me. If I did not Good husband, let us every one go home, think it had been Anne Page, would I might never And laugh this sport o'er by a country fire; stir, and 'tis a post-master's boy.
Sir John and all. Page. Upon my life then, you took the wrong. Ford.
Let it be so :-Sir John, Slen. What need you tell me that? I think so, To master Brook you yet shall hold your word; when I took a boy for a girl: If I had been mar. For he, to-night, shall lie with Mrs. Ford. ried to him, for all he was in woman's apparel, I
(Exeunt. would not have had him.
Page. Why, this is your own folly. Did not I tell you, how you should know my daughter by her garments ?
Slen. I went to her in white, and cry'd muum, and she cry'd budget, as Anne and I had appointed; or this play there is a tradition preserved by Mr. and yet it was not Anne, but a post-master's boy. Rowe, that it was written at the command of
Eva. Jeshu! Master Slender, cannot you see Queen Elizabeth, who was so delighted with the but marry poys ?
character of Falstaff, that she wished it to be difPage. 0, I'am vexed at heart: What shall I do? fused through more plays; but suspecting that is
Mrs. Page. Good George, be not angry : I might pall by continued uniformity, directed the knew of your purpose ; turned my daughter into poet to diversify his manner, by showing him in green; and, indeed, she is now with the doctor at love. No task is harder than that of writing to the the deanery, and there married.
ideas of another. Shakspeare knew what the queen,
if the story be true, seems not to have known, that Enter Caius.
by any real passion of tenderness, the selfish cras,
the careless jollity, and the lazy luxury of Falstaff, Caius. Vere is mistress Page? By gar, I am must have suffered so much abatement, that little
of his former cast would have remained. Falstaf (1) Confound her by your questions. (2) Avoid.lcould not love, but by ceasing to be Falstaff. He
could only counterfeit love, and his professions of forming ridiculous characters can confer praise could be prompted, not by the hope of pleasure, only on him who originally discovered it, for it rebut of money. Thus the poet approached as near quires not much of either wit or judgment; its as he could to the work enjoined him; yet having success must be derived almost wholly from the perhaps in the former plays completed his own player, but its power in a skilful mouth, even he idea, seems not to have been able to give Falstaff that despises it, is unable to resist. all his former power of entertainment.
The conduct of this drama is deficient; the acThis comedy is remarkable for the variety and tion begins and ends often, before the conclusion, number of the personages, who exhibit more cha- and the different parts might change places withracters appropriated and discriminated, than per- out inconvenience; but its general power, that haps can be found in any other play.
power by which all works of genius shall finally Whether Shakspeare was the first that produced be tried, is such, that perhaps it never yet had upon the English stage the effect of language dis- reader or spectator who did not think it too soon torted and depraved by provincial or foreign pro- at the end. aunciation, I cannot certainly decide. This model
TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL. ... he cutane
lino in PERSONS REPRESENTED. Orsino, duke of Nyria.
Olivia, a rich countess.
Lords, priests, sailors, officers, musicians, and other
attendants. Sir Andrew Ague-cheek. Malvolio, steward lo Olivia. Fabian, servants to Olivia.
Scene, a city in Nlyria; and the sea-coast near it. Clown,
may he be.
Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else
That live in her! when liver, brain, and heart,
Away before me to sweet beds of flowers;
Love-thoughts lie rich, when canopied with bowers
(Exeunt Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting,
SCENE II.—The sea-coast. Enter Viola, Cap The appetite may sicken, and so die.
tain, and Sailors. That strain again ;-it had a dying fall : 0, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south,
Vio. What country, friends, is this? That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Illyria, lady. Stealing, and giving odour:-Enough; no more ; My brother he is in Elysium,
Vio. And what should I do in Illyria ? 'Tis not so sweet now, as it was before. O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou ! Perchance, he is not drown'd:-What think you, That notwithstanding thy capacity
sailors ? Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,
Cap. It is perchance, that you yourself were Of what validity and pitch soever,
saved. But falls into abatement and low price,
Vio. O my poor brother! and so, perchance,
Cap. True, madam: and, to comfort you with
What, Curio ? Assure yoursell, after our ship did split,
you, and that poor number saved with you, Duke. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have: Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother, 0, when mine eyes did see Olivia first,
Most provident in peril, bind himself Methought, she purg'd the air of pestilence;
(Courage and hope bóth teaching him the prar That instant was I turn'd into a hart;
tice) And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,
To a strong mast, that lived upon the sea ; E’er since pursue me.-How now? what news Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back, from her ?
I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves,
So long as I could see.
For saying so, there's gold :
Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,
Cap. Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and Shall not behold her face at ample view;
born, But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk, Not three hours' travel from this very place. And water once a day her chamber round,
Vio. Who governs here? With eye-offending brine: all this, to season Сар.
A noble duke, in nature, A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh, As in his name. And lasting, in her sad remembrance.
What is his name?
Orsino, To pay this debt of love but to a brother,
Vio. Orsino! I have heard my father name him : How will she love, when the rich golden shaft He was a bachelor then.
Mar. He hath, indeed, -almost natural: for, beOr was so very late ; for but a month
sides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller ; and, Ago I went from hence; and then 'twas fresh but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the In murmur (as, you know, what great ones do, gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among The less will prattle of,) that he did seek the prudent, he would quickly have the gift of a The love of fair Olivia.
grave. Vio. What's she?
Sir To. By this hand, they are scoundrels, and Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count substractors, that say so of him. Who are they? That died some twelvemonth since; then leaving. Mar. They that add moreover, he's drunk nighther
ly in your company. In the protection of his son, her brother,
Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece; I'll Who shortly also died : for whose dear love, drink to her, as long as there is a passage in my They say, she hath abjur'd the company
throat, and drink in Illyria : he's a coward and a And sight of men.
coystril," that will not drink to my niece, till his Vio.
0, that I served that lady ; brains turn o' the toe, like a parish-top.' What,
Enter Sir Andrew Ague-cheek.
Sir And. Sir Toby Belch! how now, sir Toby Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, captain ;
Belch ? And though that nature with a beauteous wall
Sir To. Sweet sir Andrew ? Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee
Sir And. Bless you, fair shrew, I will believe, thou hast a mind that suits
Mar. And you too, sir. With this thy fair and outward character.
Sir To. Accost, sir Andrew, accost. I pray thee, and I'll pay thee bounteously,
Sir And. What's that? Conceal me what I am ; and be my aid
Sir To. My niece's chamber-maid. For such disguise as, haply, shall become
Sir And. Good mistress Accost, I desire better The form of my intent. "I'll serve this duke;
acquaintance. Thou shalt present me as a eunuch to him,
Mar. My name is Mary, sir. It may be worth thy pains ; for I can sing,
Sir And. Good mistress Mary Accost, And speak to him in many sorts of music,
Sir To. You mistake, knight : accost, is, front That will allow me very worth his service.
her, board her, woo her, assail her. What else may hap, to time I will commit;
Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake Only shape thou thy silence to my wit.
her in this company. Is that the meaning of accost? Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be: Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen. When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see ! Sir To. An thou let part so, şir Andrew, 'would Vio. I thank thee: lead me on. [Exeunt. thou might'st never draw sword again.
Sir And. An you part so, mistress, I would I SCENE III.A room in Olivia's house. Enter might never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you Sir Toby Belch and Maria.
think you have fools in hand ?
Mar. Sir, I have not you by the hand. Sir To. What a plague means my niece, to take Sir And. 'Marry, but you shall have ; and here's the death of her brother thus ? I am sure, care's my hand. an enemy to life.
Mar. Now, sir, thought is free ; I pray you, bring Mar. By troth, sir Toby, you must come in your hand to the buttery-bar, and let it drink. earlier o' nights; your cousin, my lady, takes great Sir And. Wherefore, sweetheart? what's your exceptions to your ill hours.
metaphor ? Sir To. Why, let her except before excepted. Mar. It's dry, sir.
Mar. Ay, but you must confine yourself within Sir And. Why, I think so ; I am not such an ass, the modest limits of order.
but I can keep my hand dry. But what's your jest ? Sir To. Confine ? I'll confine myself no finer than Mar. A dry jest, sir. I am: these clothes are good enough to drink in, Sir And. Are you full of them? and so be these boots too, an they be not, let them Mar. Ay, sir; I have them at my fingers' ends hang themselves in their own straps.
marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren. Mar. That quaffing and drinking will undo you:
[Erit Maria. I heard my lady talk of it yesterday; and of a Sir To. O knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary foolish knight, that you brought in one night here, when did I see thee so put down? to be her wooer.
Sir And. Never in your life, I think ; unless you Sir To. Who? Sir Andrew Ague-cheek? see canary put me down: methinks, sometimes I Mar. Ay, he.
have no more wit than a Christian, or an ordinary Sir To. He's as talla a man as any's in Illyria. man has : but I am a great eater of beef, and, 1 Mar. What's that to the purpose ?
believe, that does harm to my wit. Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats a Sir To. No question. year.
Sir And. An I thought that, I'd forswear it. I'll Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ride home to-morrow, sir Toby. ducats; he's a very fool, and a prodigal.
Sir To. Pourquoy, my dear knight ? Sir To. Fie, that you'll say so! he plays o' the Sir And. What is pourquoy? do or not do? I viol-de-gambo, and speaks three or four languages would I had bestowed that time in the tongues, word for word' without book, and hath all the good that I have in fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting: gifts of nature.
lo, had I but followed the arts!"
13) Keystril, a bastard hawk.
Sir To. Then hadst thou had an excellent head To thee the book even of my secret soul: of hair.
Therefore, good youth, address thy gait: unto her ; Sir And. Why, would that have mended my hair? Be not deny'd access, stand at her doors,
Sir To. Past question ; for thou seest, it will not And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow, curl by nature.
Till thou have audience. Sir And. But it becomes me well enough, does't Vio.
Sure, my noble lord, not?
If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow Sir To. Excellent; it hangs like flax on a dis- As it is spoke, she never will admit me. taff; and I hope to see a housewife take thee be Duke. Be clamorous, and leap all civil bounds, tween her legs, and spin it off.
Rather than make unprofited return. Sir And. 'Faith, I'll home to-morrow, sir Toby: Vio. Say, I do speak with her, my lord; what your niece will not be seen; or, if she be, it's four then ? to one she'll none of me: the count himself, here Duke. 0, then unfold the passion of my love hard by, woos her.
Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith: Sir To. She'll none o'the count: she'll not match It shall become thee well to act my woes; above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; She will attend it better in thy youth, I have heard her swear it. Tut, there's life in’t, Than in a nuncio of more grave aspéct. man.
Vio. I think not so, my lord. Sir And. I'll stay a month longer. I am a fel Dike.
Dear lad, believe it ; low o’ the strangest mind i' the world; I delight in For they shall yet belie thy happy years masques and revels sometimes altogether. That say, thou art a man: Diana's lip
Sir To. Art thou good at these kick-shaws, Is not more smooth and rubious; thy small pipe knight?
Is as the maiden's organ, shrill and sound, Sir And. As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he And all is semblative a woman's part. be, under the degree of my betters; and yet I will I know, thy constellation is right apt not compare with an old man.
For this aflair:-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,
I'll do my best, simply as strong as any man in Illyria.
To woo your lady: yet (Aside.) a bärsul- strise ! Sir To. Wherefore are these things hid ? where- Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife. fore have these gists a curtain before them? are
[Exeunt. they like to take dust, like mistress Mall's picture ? Why dost thou not go to church in a galliard, SCENE V.-A room in Olivia's house. Enter and come home in a coranto? My very walki
Maria and Clown. should be a jig; I would not so much as make water, but in a sink-i-pace.! What dost thou Mar. Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, mean? is it a world to hide virtues in ? I did think, or I will not open my lips so wide as a bristle may by the excellent constitution of thy leg, it was enter, in way of thy excuse : my lady will hang formed under the star of a galliard.
thee for thy absence. Sir And. Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent Clo. Lei her hang me: he, that is well hanged well in a flame-coloured stock.2 Shall we set about in this world, needs to fear no colours. some revels ?
Mar. Make that good. Sir To. What shall we do else ? were we not Clo. He shall see none to fear. born under Taurus ?
Mar. A good lentens answer: I can tell thce Sir And, Taurus ? that's sides and heart. where that saying was born, of, I fear no colours.
Sir To. No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let me Clo. Where, good mistress Mary? see thee caper : ha! higher: ha, ha excellent ! Mar. In the wars; and that may you be bold 10
Clo. Well, God give them wisdom, that have it; SCENE IV: A room in the Duke's palace. En- and those that are fools, let them use their talents.
ter Valentine, and Viola in man's attire. Mar. Yet you will be hanged, for being so long Val. If the duke continue these favours towards as a hanging to you?
absent: or, to be turned away, is not that as goou you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanced;
Clo. Many a good hanging prevents a bad mar. he hath known you but three days, and already riage; and, for turning away, let summer bear it you are no stranger.
out. Vio. You either fear his humour, or my negli Mar. You are resolute then ? gence, that you call in question the continuance of
Clo. Not so neither ; but I am resolved on two his love: is he inconstant, sir, in his favours ?
points. Val. No, believe me.
Mar. That, if one break, the other will hold; or, Erter Duke, Curio, and attendants.
if both break, your gaskins fall.
Clo. Apt, in good faith; very apt! Well, go thy Vio. I thank you. Here comes the count. way; if sir Toby would leave drinking, thou were Duke. Who saw Cesario, ho?
as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria. Vio. On your attendance, my lord; here. Mar. Peace, you rogue, no more o' that; here
Duke. Stand you awhile aloof.-Cesario, comes my lady: make your excuse wisely, you Thou know'st no less but all ; I have unclasp'd were best.
TErit. (1) Cinque-pace, the name of a dance.
(5) Short and spare,
16) Points were hooks which fastened the hose (4) Full of impediments.