For women are as roses; whose fair flower, Being once display'd, doth fall that very hour. Vio. And so they are: alas, that they are so; To die, even when they to perfection grow! Re-enter CURIO, and CLOWN. Duke. O fellow, come, the song we had iast night : Mark it, Cesario; it is old, and plain: Do use to chaunt it; it is silly sooth,t Clo. Are you ready, Sir? SONG. Clo. Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be luid; Fly away, fly away, breath; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. That suffer surfeit, cloyment, and revolt; Vio. Ay, but I know, 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. Duke. And what's her history? Vio. A blank, my lord: She never told her love, [Music. But let concealment, like a worm i'the bud, Feed on her damask cheek: she pin'd in My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it ; My part of death no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown: Sad true lover ne'er find my grave, Duke. There's for thy pains. Clo. No pains, Sir; I take pleasure in singng, Sir. Duke. I'll pay thy pleasure then. Clo. Truly, Sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or another. Duke. Give me now leave to leave thee. Clo. Now, the melancholy god protect thee; and the tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffata, for thy mind is a very opal.§-I would have men of such constancy put to sea, that their business might be every thing, and their intent every where; for that's it, that always makes a good voyage of nothing.-Farewell. [Exit CLOWN. Duke. Let all the rest give place. Once more, Cesario, * Lace makers. Times of simplicity. A precious stone of all colours. | Decks. thought; And, with a green and yellow melancholy, Sne sat like Patience on a monument, Smiling at grief. Was not this love, indeed? We men may say more, swear more: but, in deed, [prove Our shows are more than will; for still we 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 [not: house, And all the brothers too;-and yet I know Sir, shall I to this lady? Duke. Ay, that's the theme. To her in haste; give her this jewel; say, My love can give no place, bide no denay.* [Exeunt. SCENE V.-OLIVIA'S Garden. Enter Sir TOBY BELCH, Sir ANDREW AGUECHEEK, and FABIAN. Sir To. Come thy ways, Signior Fabian. Fab. Nay, I'll come; if I lose a scruple of this sport, let me be boiled to death with melancholy. Sir To. Would'st thou not be glad to have the niggardly rascally sheep-biter come by some notable shame? Fab. I would exult, man: you know, he brought me out of favour with my lady, about a bear-baiting here. 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 behaviour to his own shadow, this half hour: observe him, for the love of mockery; for, I know, this letter will make a contemplative ideot 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. spect than any one else that follows her. What should I think on't? Sir To. Here's an over-weening rogue! Fab. O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him; how he jets under his advanced plumes! Fab. This wins him, liver and all. No man must know. No man must know.-What follows? the num Sir And. 'Slight, I could so beat the rogue:-bers altered!-No man must know:-If this 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 blowst 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! Mal. And then to have the humour 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 ears, 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 niece, 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. 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. Sir To. O, peace! and the spirit of humours intimate reading aloud to him! Mal. By my life, that is my lady's hand: these be her very C's, her U's, and her T's; and thus makes she her great P's. It is, in contempt of question, her hand. 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? should be thee, Malvolio? Sir To. Marry, hang thee, brock !* But silence, like a Lucrece knife, Sir To. Excellent wench, say I. Mal. M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.-Nay, but first, let me see,-let me see, let me 806. Fab. What a dish of poison has 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,-Softly !—M, O, A, I.— Sir To. O, ay! make up that:-he is now at a cold scent. Fab. Sowters will cry upon't, for all this, though it be as rank as a fox. Mal. M,-Malvolio ;-M,-why, that begins my name. Fub. 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 O shall end, I hope. Sir To. Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make him cry, O. Mal. And then I comes behind; Fab. Ay, an you had any 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 fortune'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-device, **the very man. I do not now fool myself, to let imagination jade me; for every 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. reason excites to this, that my lady loves me. Sir To. I could marry this wench for this de vice. Vio. Iwarrant, thou art a merry fellow, and 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, Šir, till she be married; and fools are as like husbands, as pilchards are to herrings, the husband's the Sir To. And ask no other dowry with her, bigger; I am, indeed, not her fool, but her but such another jest. Sir And. So could I too. Enter MARIA. Sir And. Nor I neither. Fab. Here comes my noble gull-catcher. Sir To. Wilt thou set thy foot o' my neck? Sir To. Shall I play my freedom at traytrip, and become thy bond-slave? Sir And. I'faith, or I either. Sir To. Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that, when the image of it leaves him, he must run mad. Mar. Nay, but say true; does it work upon him? Sir To. Like aqua-vita 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 colour 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. ACT III. SCENE 1.-OLIVIA'S Garden. [Exeunt. Enter VIOLA, and CLOWN with a tabor. Clo. No, Sir, I live by the church. 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 may'st say, the king liest by a beggar, if a beggar dwell near him: or, the church stands by the tabor, if thy tabor stand by the church. Clo. You have said, Sir.-To see this age!A sentence is but a cheverilt 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. ♦ A boy's diversion three and trip. † Dwells. Kid. 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 expenses 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. fool; Vio. I understand you, Sir; 'tis well begg'd. 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. Vio. I will answer you with gait and entrance: But we are prevented. Enter OLIVIA and MARIA. Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain odours on you! Sir And. That youth's a rare courtier! Rain urs! well. Vio. My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your own most pregnant* and vouchsafed ear. Sir And. Odours, pregnant, and vouchsafed :— I'll get 'em all three ready. Of. 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. Oli. What is your name? Vio. Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess. Oli. My servant, Sir! "Twas never merry world, Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment: You are servant to the count Orsino, youth. Vio. And he is yours, and his must needs be yours; Your servant's servant is your servant, madam. Oli. O, by your leave, I pray you; Vio. Dear lady, Oli. Give me leave, I beseech you: I did send, After the last enchantment you did here, you think? Have you not set mine honour at the stake, And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receivingt Enough is shown; a cyprus, not a bosom, Hides my poor heart: So let me hear you speak. Vio. I pity you. 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 again : O world, how apt the poor are to be proud! If one should be a prey, how much the better To fall before the lion, than the wolf? [Clock strikes. The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you: And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest, Your wife is like to reap a proper man: Vio. Then westward-hoe: [ship Grace, and good disposition 'tend your ladyYou'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me? Oli. Stay: I pr'ythee, tell me, what thou think'st of me. Vio. That you do think, you are not what you are. Oli. If I think so, I think the same of you. Vio. Then think you right; I am not what I am. Oli. I would, you were as I would have you be! Vio. Would it be better, madam, than I am, I wish it might; for now I am your fool. Oli. O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his lip! A murd'rous guilt shows not itself more soon Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon. Cesario, by the roses of the spring, better. Vio. By innocence I swear, and by my youth, I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth, And that no woman has; nor never none Shall mistress be of it, save I alone. And so adieu, good madam; never more Will I my master's tears to you deplore. Oli. Yet come again: for thou, perhaps, may'st move That heart, which now abhors, to like his love. [Exeunt. SCENE II-A Room in OLIVIA's house. Enter Sir TOBY BELCH, Sir ANDREW AGUECHEEK, and FABIAN. Sir And. No faith, I'll not stay a jot longer. Sir To. Thy reason, dear venom, give thy Fub. I will prove it legitimate, Sir, upon the oaths of judgement and reason. Sir To. And they have been grand jury-men, since before Noah was a sailor. Fab. She did show favour to the youth in your sight, only to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse valour, to put fire in your heart, and brimstone in your liver: You should then have accosted her; and with some excellent jest, 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 gift 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 valour, or policy. * In spite of t 1 Sir And. And't be any way, it must be with | valour; 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 valour. 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 valour. 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 urst and brief; it is no matter how witty, so be eloquent, and full of invention: taunt him ith 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 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 manakin 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. 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't for a great favour. Sir To. Come, bring us, bring us where he is [Exeun 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,) •Separatists in Queen Elizabeth's reign, + Crabbed. But jealousy what might befall your travel, Being skilless in these parts; which to a stran. ger, Unguided, and unfriended, often prove Seb. My kind Antonio, I can no other answer make, but, thanks, Seb. I am not weary, and 'tis long to-night; Ant. Would, you'd pardon me; I do not without danger walk these streets : Once, in a sea-fight, "gainst the count his gallies, I did some service; of such note, indeed, Albeit the quality of the time, and quarrel, Most of our city did: only myself stood out: Seb. 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, With Seb. viewing of the town; there shall you have me. Why I your purse? Ant. Haply, your eyes shall light upon some toy You have desire to purchase; and your store, Ant. To the Elephant.- [for [Exeunt. |