Vio. How can this be? Duke. When came he to this town? (No interim, not a minute's vacancy), Both day and night did we keep company. Enter Olivia and Attendants. Duke. Here comes the countess; now heaven walks on earth. But for thee, fellow, fellow, thy words are madness: Oli. What would my lord, but that he may not have, Vio. Madam? Duke. Gracious Olivia, [lord, Oli. What do you say, Cesario? Good my Vio. My lord would speak, my duty hushes me. Oli. If it be aught to the old tune, my lord, It is as fat and fulsome so mine ear, As howling after music. Duke. Still so cruel ? Oli. Still so constant, lord. Duke. What! to perverseness? you uncivil lady, To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars My soul the faithful'st offerings hath breath'd out, That e'er devotion tender'd! tender'd! What shall I do? Oli. Even what it please my lord, that shall become him. Duke. Why should I not, had I the heart to do it, And that I partly know the instrument in mis[chief: I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love, Oli. Where goes Cesario? Vio. [Following. After him I love, Oli. Ah me, detested! how am 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. Come away. [To Viola. Duke. Oli. Whither, my lord?-Cesario, husband, stay. Duke. Husband? Oli. Ay, husband; Can he that deny? Duke. 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.-0, welcome, father! Re-enter Attendant and Priest. Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence, Priest. A contract of eternal bond of love, Seal'd in my function, by my testimony: Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave, I have travelled but two hours. Duke. O, thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be, Vio. My lord, I do protest,- O, do not swear: Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear. Enter Sir Andrew Ague-cheek, with his Head broke. Sir And. For the love of God, a surgeon; send one presently to sir Toby. Duke. My gentleman, Cesario? Sir And. 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 And. If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me; I think, you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb. Enter Sir Toby Belch, drunk, led by the Clown. Here comes sir Toby halting, you shall hear more: but if he had not been in drink, he would have tickled you othergates than he did. Duke. How now, gentleman? how is't with you ! Sir To. That's all one; he has hurt me, and there's the end on't. Sot, didst see Dick surgeon, sot? Clo. O, he's drunk, sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyes were set at eight i'the morning. Sir To. Then he's a rogue. After a passy-measure, or a pavin, I hate a drunken rogue. Oli. Away with him: Who hath made this havock with them? Sir And. I'll help you, sir Toby, because we'll be dressed together. Sir To. Will you help an ass-head, and a coxcomb, and a knave? a thin-faced knave, a gull? Oli. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to. [Exeunt Clown, 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 perceive it hath offended you; Pardon me, sweet ore, even for the vows We made each other but so late ago. Duke. 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, Hoe have the hours a Ant. Sebastian are you? Seb. Do I stand there? I never had a brother:. Nor can there be that deity in my nature, Such a Sebastian was my brother too, So went he suited to his watery tomb: Oli. Have I, Malvolio? no. Had number'd thirteen years. Seb. O, that record is lively in my soul! He finish'd, indeed, his mortal act, Vio. If nothing lets to make us happy both, But this my masculine usurp'd attire, Mal. Lady, you have. Pray you, peruse that letter: You must not now deny it is your hand, Write from it, if you can, in hand, or phrase; I'll bring you to a captain in this town, Seb. So comes it, lady, you have been mistook: But nature to her bias drew in that. [To Olivia. You would have been contracted to a maid; You are betroth'd both to a maid and man. Duke. Be not amaz'd; right nobie is his blood. If this be so, as yet the glass seems true, I shall have share in this most happy wreck: And, acting this in an obedient hope, Oli. Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing, Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times, [To Vio. Upon thee in the letter. Pr'ythee, be content: Thou never shouldst love woman like to me. Give me thy hand; And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds. Vio. The captain, that did bring me first on shore, A gentleman, and follower of my lady's. Oli. Heshallenlarge him.-FetchMalvolio hither: A most extracting phrensy of mine own Clo. Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the stave's end, as well as a man in his case may do: he has here writ a letter to you, I should have given it you to-day morning; but as a madman's epistles are no gospels, so it skills not much, when they are delivered. Oli. Open it, and read it. delivers the madman: -By the Lord, madam,- 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. Cle. So I do, madonna; but to read his right wits, is to read thus: therefore, perpend, my princess, and give ear. [To Fabian. Oli. Read it you, sirrah. Fab. [Reals] 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 I leave my duty a little unt hought The madly-used Malvolio. of, and speak out of my injury. Oli. Did he write this? Clo. Ay, madam. Duke. This savours not much of distraction. My lord, so please you, these things further thought on, One day shall crown the alliance on't, so please you, Duke. Madam, I am most apt to embrace your offer.- Fab. Good madam, hear me speak; And let no quarrel, nor no brawl to come, Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts Oli. Alas, poor fool! how have they baffled thee! Clo. Why, some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrown 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 gagg'd: And thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges. Mal. I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you. [Exit. Oli. He hath been most notoriously abus'd. He hath not told us of the captain yet; Of our dear souls-Meantime, sweet sister, SONG. Clo. When that I was and a little tiny boy, With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, But when I came, alas! to wive, With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, G Vincentio, Duke of Vienna. DRAMATIS PERSONE. Angelo, Lord Deputy in the Duke's absence. Escalus, an ancient Lord, joined with Angelo in the Abhorson, an Executioner. Deputation. Claudio, a young Gentleman. Lucio, a Fantastic. Two other like Gentlemen. Varrius, a Gentleman, Servant to the Duke. Provost. Thomas, Peter, A Justice. Elbow, a simple Constable. Froth, a foolish Gentleman. Barnardine, a dissolute Prisoner. SCENE, Vienna. ACT 1. SCENE I. An Apartment in the Duke's Palace. Enter Duke, Escalus, Lords, and Attendants. Dute. ESCALUS, Escal. My lord. Duke. Of government the properties to unfold, Would seem in me to affect speech and discourse; Since I am put to know that your own science, Exceeds, in that, the lists of all advice My strength can give you: then no more remains For common justice, you are as pregnant in, [Exit an Attendant. What figure of us think you he will bear? Escal. If any in Vienna be of worth It is lord Angelo. Duke. Enter Angelo. Look, where he comes. Ang. Always obedient to your grace's will, I come to know your pleasure. Duke. Angelo, There is a kind of character in thy life, That, to the observer, doth thy history Fully unfold: thyself and thy belongings Are not thine own so proper, as to waste Thyself upon thy virtues, them on thee. Heaven doth with us, as we with torches do; Not light them for ourselves: for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd, But to fine issues: nor nature never lends The smallest scruple of her excellence, Yet, give me leave, my lord, That we may bring you something on the way. Duke. My haste may not admit it; Nor need you, on mine honour, have to do As to your soul seems good. Give me your hand; But do not like to stage me to their eyes: Ang. The heavens give safety to your purposes! Escal. I shall desire you, sir, to give me leave Lucio. Thou concludest like the sanctimonious pirate, that went to sea with the ten commandments, but scraped one out of the table. 2 Gent. Thou shalt not steal? Lucio. Ay, that he razed. 1 Gent. Why, 'twas a commandment to command the captain and all the rest from their functions; they put forth to steal there's not a soldier of us all, that, in the thanksgiving before meat, doth relish the petition well that prays for peace. 2 Gent. I never heard any soldier dislike it. Lucio. I believe thee; for, I think, thou never wast where grace was said. 2 Gent. No? a dozen times at least. 1 Gent. What? in metre? Lucio. In any proportion, or in any language. 1 Gent. I think, or in any religion. Lucio. Ay! why not? Grace is grace, despite of all controversy: as for example; thou thyself art a wicked villain, despite of all grace. 1 Gent. Well, there went but a pair of shears between us. Lucio. I'grant; as there may between the lists and the velvet: thou art the list. 1 Gent. And thou the velvet: thou art good velvet; thou art a three-pil'd piece, I warrant thee: I had as lief be a list of an English kersey, as be pil'd, as thou art pil'd, for a French velvet. Do I speak feelingly now? Lucio. I think thou dost; and, indeed, with most painful feeling of thy speech: I will, out of thine own Enter Bawd. most profound sciatica? 1 Gent. How now? Which of your hips has the Bard. Well, well; there's one yonder arrested, and carried to prison, was worth five thousand of you all. 1 Gent. Who's that, I pray thee? Bawd. Marry, sir, that's Claudio, signior Claudio. 1 Gent. Claudio to prison! 'tis not so. Bawd. Nay, but I know, 'tis so; I saw him arrested; saw him carried away; and, which is more, within these three days his head's to be chopped off. Lucio. But, after all this fooling, I would not have it so: art thou sure of this? Bawd. I am too sure of it and it is for getting madam Julietta with child. Lucio. Believe me, this may be: he promised to meet me two hours since; and he was ever precise promise-keeping. in 2 Gent. Besides, you know, it draws something near to the speech we had to such a purpose. 1 Gent. But most of all, agreeing with the procla mation. Lucio. Away; let's go learn the truth of it. [Exeunt Lucio and Gentlemen. Bawd. Thus, what with the war, what with the sweat what with the gallows, and what with poverty, I am custom-shrunk. How now? what's the news with you? Enter Clown. Clo. Yonder man is carried to prison. Bawd. Well; what has he done ? Bawd. But what's his offence? Clo. Groping for trouts in a peculiar river. Bawd. What, is there a maid with child by him? Clo. No; but there's a woman with maid by him: you have not heard of the proclamation, have you? Bawd. What proclamation, man? Clo. All houses in the suburbs of Vienna must be pluck'd down. Bawd. And what shall beoome of those in the city? Clo. They shall stand for seed they had gone down too, but that a wise burgher put in for them. Bawd. But shall all our houses of resort in the suburbs be puli'd down? Clo. To the ground, mistress. Bawd. Why, here's a change, indeed, in the commonwealth! What shall become of me ? Clo. Come; fear not you good counsellors lack no clients though you change your place, you need not change your trade; I'll be your tapster still. Courage; there will be pity taken on you: you that have worn your eyes almost out in the service, you will be considered. Bawd. What's to do here, Thomas Tapster? let's withdraw. Clo. Here comes signior Claudio, led by the provost to prison and there's madam Juliet. [Exeunt. SCENE III. The same. Enter Provost, Claudio, Juliet, and Officers; Claud. Fellow, why dost thou show me thus to the Claud. Thus can the demi-god, Authority, Lucio. Why, how now, Claudio? whence comes this restraint? Claud. From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty. Lucio. If I could speak so wisely under an arrest, I would send for certain of my creditors: and yet, to say the truth, I had as lief have the foppery of freedom, as the morality of imprisonment.- t.-What's thy offence, Claudio? Is Claud. What, but to speak of would offend again. Lucio, What is it? murder? Lucio. A hundred, if they'll do you any good.lechery so look'd after? Claud. Thus stands it with me:-Upon a true con I got possession of Julietta's bed: Of outward order this we came not to, [tract, Remaining in the coffer of her friends; Till time had made them for us. But it chances, The stealth of our most mutual entertainment, With character too gross, is writ on Juliet. Lucio. With child, perhaps? And the new deputy now for the duke,- A horse whereon the governor doth ride, Whether the tyranny be in his place, Or in his eminence that fills it up, may sigh him. Acquaint her with the danger of my state; Lucio. I pray she may as well for the encouragement of the like, which else would stand under grievous imposition; as for the enjoying of thy life, who I would be sorry should be thus foolishly lost at a game of tick-tack. I'll to ber. Claud. I thank you, good friend Lucio. SCENE IV. A Monastery. [Exeunt. And so it is receiv'd: now, pious sir, You will demand of me, why I do this? Fri. Gladly, my lord. Duke. We have strict statutes, and most biting laws (The needful bits and eurbs for head-strong steeds), Which for these fourteen years we have let sleep; Even like an overgrown lion in a cave, That goes not out to prey now, as fond fathers For terror, not to use; in time the rod Becomes more mock'd, than fear'd: so our decrees, Fri. It rested in your grace To unloose this tied-up justice, when you pleas'd: And it in you more dreadful would have seem'd, Than in lord Angelo. Duke. I do fear, too dreadful: Sith 'twas my fault to give the people scope, "Twould be my tyranny to strike, and gall them For what I bid them do for we bid this be done, When evil deeds have their permissive pass, And not the punishment. Therefore, indeed, my father, I have on Angelo impos'd the office; Who may, in the ambush of my name, strike home, And yet my nature never in the sight, To do it slander: and to behold his sway, I will, as 'twere a brother of your order, Is more to bread than stone hence shall we see, If power change purpose, what our seemers be. SCENE V. A Nunnery. Enter Isabella and Francisca. [Exeunt. Isab. Peace and prosperity! Who is't that calls? Enter Lucio. Lucio. Hail, virgin, if you be; as those cheek-roses Proclaim you are no less! can you so stead me, As bring me to the sight of Isabella, A novice of this place, and the fair sister To her unhappy brother Claudio ? Isab. Why her unhappy brother? let me ask; The rather, for I now must make you know I am that Isabella, and his sister. This is the point. The duke is very strangely gone from hence; In hand, and hope of action: but we do learn And follows close the rigour of the statute, Of business 'twixt you and your poor brother. Isab. Doth he so seek his life t Has censur'd him. Our doubts are traitors, And make us lose the good we oft might win, By fearing to attempt: go to lord Angelo, And let him learn to know, when maidens sue, Men give like gods; but when they weep and kneel, All their petitions are as freely theirs As they themselves would owe them. Isab. I'll see what I can do. Lucio. But speedily. Isab. I will about it straight; No longer staying but to give the mother Notice of my affair. I humbly thank you : Commend me to my brother: soon at night I'll send bim certain word of my success. Lucio. I take my leave of you. Isab. ACT 11. Good sir, adieu. [Exeunt. Ay, but yet Let us be keen, and rather cut a little, Than fall, and bruise to death alas! this gentleman, Lucio. Gentle and fair, your brother kindly greets Whom I would save, had a most noble father. Let but your honour know (Whom I believe to be most strait in virtue), That, in the working of your own affections, Had time coher'd with place, or place with wishing, Could have attain'd the effect of your own purpose, Ang. 'Tis one thing to be tempted, Escalus, |