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To pay this debt of love but to a brother,
SCENE II.—The Sea-coast.
Enter V10LA, Captain, and Sailors. That live in her: when liver, brain, and heart, Vio. What country, friends, is this? These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and fill'd,
This is Illyria, lady. (Her sweet perfections,) with one self king.
Vio. And what should I do in Illyria ? Away, before me to sweet beds of flowers;
My brother he is in Elysium. Love-thoughts lie rich, when canopied with bowers. Perchance, he is not drown'd:—what think you,
may he be.
Cap. It is perchance that you yourself were sav'd. Cap. And so is now, or was so very late;
And then 'twas fresh in murmur, (as, you know, Cap. True, madam: and, to comfort you with What great ones do the less will prattle of,) chance,
That he did seek the love of fair Olivia. Assure yourself, after our ship did split,
Vio. What's she? When you, and those poor number saved with you, Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother, That died some twelvemonth since; then leaving her Most provident in peril, bind himself
In the protection of his son, her brother, (Courage and hope both teaching him the practice) Who shortly also died: for whose dear love, To a strong mast, that lived upon the sea;
They say, she hath abjur'd the company, Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back,
And sight of men. I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves
O! that I serv'd that lady, So long as I could see.
And might not be delivered to the world, Vio.
For saying so there's gold. Till I had made mine own occasion mellow, Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,
What my estate is. Whereto thy speech serves for authority,
That were hard to compass, The like of him. Know'st thou this country? Because she will admit no kind of suit,
Cap. Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and born, No, not the duke's. Not three hours' travel from this very place.
Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, captain
, Vio. Who governs here?
And though that nature with a beauteous wall
I will believe, thou hast a mind that suits
With this thy fair and outward character.
Conceal me what I am, and be my aid
For such disguise as haply shall become
I heard my lady talk of it yesterday, and of a foolish The form of my intent. I'll serve this duke: knight, that you brought in one night here to be her Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him. It may be worth thy pains; for I can sing,
Sir To. Who? Sir Andrew Ague-cheek? And speak to him in many sorts of music,
Mar. Ay, he. That will allow me very worth his service.
Sir To. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria. What else may hap to time I will commit;
Mar. What's that to the purpose ? Only, shape thou thy silence to my wit.
Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats a Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be: year. When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see. Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these Vio. I thank thee. Lead me on. [Ereunt. ducats : he's a very fool, and a prodigal.
Sir To. Fie, that you'll say so! he plays o'the SCENE III.-A Room in Olivia's House. viol-de-gamboys, and speaks three or four languages Enter Sir Toby Belch, and Maria.
word for word without book, and hath all the good
gifts of nature. Sir To. What a plague means my niece, to take Mar. He hath, indeed, -almost natural; for, the death of her brother thus? I am sure care's an besides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller; and, enemy to life.
but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the Mar. By my troth, sir Toby, you must come in gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among the earlier o' nights : your cousin, my lady, takes great prudent he would quickly have the gift of a grave. exceptions to your ill hours.
Sir To. By this hand, they are scoundrels, and Sir To. Why, let her except before excepted. substractors that say so of him. Who are they?
Mar. Ay, but you must confine yourself within Mar. They that add, moreover, he's drunk nightly the modest limits of order.
in your company. Sir To. Confine? I'll confine myself no finer Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece. I'll than I am. These clothes are good enough to drink drink to her, as long as there is a passage in my in, and so be these boots too : an they be not, let throat, and drink in Illyria. He's a coward and a them hang themselves in their own straps.
coystril, that will not drink to my niece, till his Mar. That quaffing and drinking will undo you: brains turn o' the toe like a parish-top. What,
Sir To. My niece's chamber-maid.
Sir And. Good mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance.
Mar. My name is Mary, sir.
Sir To. You mistake, knight: accost is front her, board her, woo her, assail her.
Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake her in this company. Is that the meaning of accost? Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen.
Sir To. An thou let part so, sir Andrew, would Mar. Now, sir, thought is free: I pray you, bring thou might'st never draw sword again!
your hand to the buttery-bar, and let it drink. Sir And. An you part so, mistress, I would I Sir And. Wherefore, sweet heart? what's your might never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you metaphor ? think you have fools in hand ?
Mar. It's dry, sir. Mar. Sir, I have not you by the hand.
Sir And. Why, I think so: I am not such an ass, Sir And. Marry, but you shall have; and here's but I can keep my hand dry. But what's your jest !
Mar. A dry jest, sir.
Sir And. Are you full of them?
Sir To. Pourquoi, my dear knight? Mar. Ay, sir; I have them at my fingers' ends : Sir And. What is pourquoi ? do or not do? I marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren. would I had bestowed that time in the tongues, that
[Erit Maria. I have in fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting. O, Sir To. O knight! thou lack'st a cup of canary. had I but followed the arts! When did I see thee so put down?
Sir To. Then hadst thou had an excellent head Sir And. Never in your life, I think; unless you of hair. see canary put me down. Methinks, sometimes I Sir And. Why, would that have mended my have no more wit than a Christian, or an ordinary hair? man has; but I am a great eater of beef, and, I Sir To. Past question ; for, thou seest, it will believe, that does harm to my wit.
not curl by nature. Sir To. No question.
Sir And. But it becomes me well enough, does't Sir And. An I thought that, I'd forswear it. I'll not? ride home to-morrow, sir Toby.
Sir To. Excellent: it hangs like flax on a distaff,
and I hope to see a housewife take thee between her Sir And. And, I think, I have the back-trick, legs, and spin it off.
simply as strong as any man in Illyria. Sir And. 'Faith, I'll home to-morrow, sir Toby: Sir To. Wherefore are these things hid? whereyour niece will not be seen; or, if she be, it's four fore have these gifts a curtain before them? are they to one she'll none of me. The count himself, here like to take dust, like mistress Mall's picture? why hard by, woos her.
dost thou not go to church in a galliard, and come Sir To. She'll done o' the count: she'll not match home in a coranto? My very walk should be a jig: above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; I would not so much as make water, but in a sinkI have heard her swear it. Tut, there's life in't, a-pace. What dost thou mean? is it a world to man.
hide virtues in? I did think, by the excellent conSir And. I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow stitution of thy leg, it was formed under the star of o' the strangest mind i' the world: I delight in a galliard. masques and revels sometimes altogether.
Sir And. Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent Sir To. Art thou good at these kick-shaws, knight? well in a damask-coloured stock. Shall we set
Sir And. As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he about some revels ? be, under the degree of any betters: and yet I will Sir To. What shall we do else? were we not not compare with an old man.
born under Taurus ? Sir To. What is thy excellence in a galliard, Sir And. Taurus ? that's sides and heart. knight?
Sir To. No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let me Sir And. 'Faith, I can cut a caper.
see thee caper. Ha! higher: ha, ha -excellent ! Sir To. And I can cut the mutton to't.
SCENE IV.--A Room in the Duke's Palace. Mar. Yet you will be hanged for being so long
absent; or, to be turned away: is not that as good Enter VALENTINE, and VIOLA in man's attire.
as a hanging to you? Val. If the duke continue these favours towards Clo. Many a good hanging prevents a bad maryou, Cesario, you are like to be much advanced : he riage; and for turning away, let summer bear it out. hath known you but three days, and already you are Mar. You are resolute, then! no stranger.
Clo. Not so neither; but I am resolved on two Vio. You either fear his humour, or my negli- | points. gence, that you call in question the continuance of Mar. That, if one break, the other will hold; or, his love. Is he inconstant, sir, in his favours? if both break, your gaskins fall. Val. No, believe me.
Clo. Apt, in good faith ; very apt. Well, go thy
way: if sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert Enter DUKE, Curio, and Attendants.
as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria. Vio. I thank you. Here comes the count.
Mar. Peace, you rogue, no more o' that. Here Duke. Who saw Cesario, ho ?
comes my lady: make your excuse wisely; you Vio. On your attendance, my lord; here.
[Erit. Duke. Stand you awhile aloof.-Cesario,
Enter Olivia, and Malvolio.
Clo. Wit, an't be thy will, put me into good foolTherefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her: ing! Those wits, that think they have thee, do Be not denied access, stand at her doors,
fools; and J, that am sure I lack thee, And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow, may pass for a wise man: for what says QuinapaTill thou have audience.
lus? Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit.—God Vio.
Sure, my noble lord, bless thee, lady! If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow,
Oli. Take the fool away. As it is spoke, she never will admit me.
Clo. Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the Duke. Be clamorous, and leap all civil bounds, lady. Rather than make unprofited return.
Oli. Go to, you're a dry fool; I'll no more of you: Vio. Say I do speak with her, my lord, what besides, you grow dishonest. then ?
Clo. Two faults, madonna, that drink and good Duke. O! then unfold the passion of my love; counsel will amend : for give the dry fool drink, then Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith : is the fool not dry; bid the dishonest man mend It shall become thee well to act my woes;
himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest: if She will attend it better in thy youth,
he cannot, let the botcher mend him. Any thing Than in a nuncio of more grave aspect.
that's mended is but patched: virtue that transgresVio. I think not so, my lord.
ses is but patched with sin; and sin that amends is but Duke.
Dear lad, believe it, || patched with virtue. If that this simple syllogism For they shall yet belie thy happy years,
will serve, so; if it will not, what remedy ? As That say thou art a man: Diana's lip
there is no true cuckold but calamity, so beauty's a Is not more smooth, and rubious; thy small pipe flower.—The lady bade take away the fool; thereIs as the maiden's organ, shrill, and sound,
fore, I say again, take her away. And all is semblative a woman's part.
Oli. Sir, I bade them take away you. I know, thy constellation is right apt
Clo. Misprision in the highest degree !-Lady, For this affair.—Some four, or five, attend him; cucullus non facit monachum: that's as much as to AN, if you will, for I myself am best,
say, I wear not motley in my brain. Good madonna, When least in company.--Prosper well in this, give me leave to prove you a fool. And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord
Oli. Can you do it?
Clo. Dexteriously, good madonna.
Oli. Make your proof.
my mouse of virtue, answer me. (E.reunt. Oli. Well, sir, for want of other idleness I'll bide
your proof. SCENE V.-A Room in Olivia's House.
Clo. Good madonna, why mourn'st thou ?
Oli. Good fool, for my brother's death.
Clo. I think, his soul is in hell, madonna. Mar. Nay; either tell me where thou hast been, Oli. I know his soul is in heaven, fool. or I will not open my lips so wide as a bristle may Clo. The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your enter in way of thy excuse. My lady will hang thee brother's soul being in heaven.—Take
away for thy absence.
gentlemen. Clo. Let her hang me: he that is well hanged in Oli. What think you of this fool, Malvolio? doth this world needs to fear no colours.
he not mend ? Mar. Make that good.
Mal. Yes; and shall do, till the pangs of death Clo. He shall ee none to fear.
shake him : infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever Mar. A good lenten answer. I can tell thee make the better fool. where that saying was born, of, I fear no colours. Clo. God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the Clo. Where, good mistress Mary ?
better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will be sworn Mar. In the wars; and that may you be bold to that I am no fox, but he will not pass his word for say in your foolery.
two-pence that you are no fool. Clo. Well, God give them wisdom, that have it; Oli. How say you to that, Malvolio? and those that are fools, let them use their talents. Mal. I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such