Imagens das páginas


Come away, come away, death,
And in sad cypress let me be laid;
Fly away, fly awày, breath;
I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
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,
On my black coffin let there be strown ;
Not a friend, not a friend greet
Mypoor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown:
A thousand thousand sighs to save,
Lay me, O! where

Sad true love never find my grave,
To weep there.

Duke. There's for thy pains.

| Vio. Too well what love women to men may owe: In faith, they are as true of heart as we My father had a daughter lov'd a man, As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman, 5 I should your lordship.

Duke. And what's her history?

Vio. A blank, my lord: She never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,
Feed on her damask cheek: she pin'd in thought;
10 And, with a green and yellow melancholy,
She sat like Patience on a monument,

Smiling at Grief. Was not this love, indeed?
We men may say more, swear more: but, indeed,
Our shows are more than will; for still we prove
15 Much in our vows, but little in our love.

Clo. No pains, sir; I take pleasure in singing, sir. 20
Duke. I'll pay thy pleasure then.

Clo. Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or other.

Duke. Give me now leave to leave thee.

Clo. Now, the melancholy god protect thee, and 25 the taylor 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 where2; for that's it, that always makes a good voyage of 30 nothing.-Farewell.

Duke. Let all the rest give place.

Once more Cesario,

[Exit. [Exeunt.

Get thee to yon same sovereign cruelty:
Tell her, my love, more noble than the world,
Prizes not quantity of dirty lands;

The parts that fortune hath bestow'd upon her,
Tell her, I hold as giddily as fortune;
But 'tis that miracle, and queen of gems,
That nature pranks her in, attracts my soul.
Vio. But, if she cannot love you, sir?-
Duke. I cannot be so answer❜d.
Vio. 'Sooth, but you must.

Say, that some lady, as perhaps there is,
Hath for your love as great a pang of heart
As you have for Olivia: you cannot love her;
You tell her so; Must she not then be answer'd?
Duke. There is no woman's sides

Can bide the beating of so strong a passion,
As love doth give my heart: no woman's heart
So big, to hold so much: they lack retention.
Alas, their love may be call'd appetite,-
No motion of the liver, but the palate,-
That suffers surfeit, cloyment, and revolt;
But mine is all as hungry as the sea,
And can digest as much: make no compare
Between that love a woman can bear me,
And that I owe Olivia.

Vio. Ay, but I know,

Duke. What dost thou know?

A precious stone of almost all colours.

in view than another. 3 Denay is denial.

Duke. But dy'd thy sister of her love, my boy? Vio. I am all the daughters of my father's house, And all the brothers too;-and yet I know not: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'.

Olivia's Garden.


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Fab. I would exult, man: you know, he brought 35 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 you all three into the box-tree: Mal45 volio's coming down this walk; he has been yonder '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 50 of jesting! Lie thou there; for here comes the t out that must be caught with tickling. |[They hide themselves. Maria throws down a letter, and exit.


Enter Malvolio.

Mal. "Tis but fortune; ail is fortune. Maria Jonce told me she did affect me; and I have heard herself come thus near, that, should she fancy, it should be one of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a more exalted respect than any one 160 else that follows her, What should I think on't?

i. e. no where, as it hath no one more particular place * Mr. Steevens observes, that the old copy reads —" mettle of India;" meaning, my girl of gold, my precious girl; and this is probably the true meaning,


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Sir And. I knew 'twas I; for many do call me


Mal. What employment have we here? ?

[Taking up the letter. Fab. Now is the woodcock near the gin. Sir To. Oh peace! and the spirit of humours intimate reading aloud to him!

Mal. By my life, this is my lady's hand: these be her very C's, her U's, and her T's; and thus 10makes 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. "To the unknown belov'd, this, and my 15" 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?

Mal. Calling my officers about me, in my 20||| branch'd velvet gown; having come from a daybed, where I have left Olivia sleeping.

Sir To. Fire and brimstone!.

Fab. O, peace, peace!

Fab. This wins him, liver and all.
Mal." Jove knows I love:
"But who?

"Lips do not move,
"No man must know."

"No man must know."

this should be thee, Malvolio?

-What follows? the

Mal. And then to have the humour of state: 25 numbers alter'd!" No man must know :”—if 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; curtsies there to me. Sir To. Shall this fellow live?

Fab. Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace.

Mal. I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar smile with an austere regard of controul:

Sir To. And does not Toby take you a blow o'the lips then?

Mal. Saying, "Cousin Toby, my fortunes hav"ing cast me on your niece, give me this prerogative of speech ;”


Sir To. What, what?

Mal. "You must mend

Sir To. Out, scab !

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.
Mal. “One sir Andrew;”—


Sir To. Marry, hang thee, brock!
Mal." I may command, where I adore :

"But silence, like a Lucrece knife,
"With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore;
"M. O. A. I. doth sway my life."
Fab. A fustian riddle!

Sir To. Excellent wench, say I.

Mal. "M. O. A. I. doth sway my life."-Nay, 35 but first, let me see,-let me see,-let me see. Fab. What a dish of poison has she dress'd him! Sir To. And with what wing the stannyel checks at it!

Mal. " I may command where I adore." Why 40 she may command me; Iserve 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, 45-Softly ;-M. O. A. I.—


Sir To. O, ay! make up that: he is now at a cold scent.

Fab. Sowter will cry upon't, for all this, though it be as rank as a fox.

Mal. M,-Malvolio;--M,-why, that begins my name.

Fab. Did not I say, he would work it out? the cur is excellent at faults.

Mal. M,-But then there is no consonancy in


'To jet is to strut. 2 Mr. Steevens proposes to read, we think happily, starchy; i. e. the room in which linen underwent the once most complicated operation of starching. i. e. puffs him up. * i. e. a cross bow, a bow which shoots stores. Watches at that time were very uncommon. ⚫ i. e. carts. ' Meaning, what's to do here? i. e. badger. He calls Malvolio one, because he is likely to be hunted like that animal. To badger a man, is a phrase now in use for making a fool of him. "The stannyel is the common stone-hawk, in the north called stanchil. i. e. flies at it. 11 i. e. any one in his senses. 12 Probably means here the name of a hound. A sowter, however, was a cobler.


the sequel; that suffers under probation: A shouldings, and cross-garter'd, even with the swiftness 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 an eye behind you, you might see more detraction at your heels, than fortunes before you.

of putting on. Jove, and my stars, be praised!— Here is yet a postscript. "Thou canst not chuse but know who I am. If thou entertainest my 5" love, let it appear in thy smiling; thy smiles "become thee well: therefore in my presence still smile, dear my sweet, I pr'ythee.”—Jove, I thank thee. I will smile; I will do every thing that thou wilt have me. [Exit

Mal. M. Ŏ. A. I.—This simulation is not as the 10 former :-and yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of these letters is in my name. Soft; here follows prose.——“ If this fall "into thy hand, revolve. În my stars I am above "thee; but be not afraid of greatness: Some are 15 "born great, some atchieve greatness, and some "have greatness thrust upon them. Thy fates "open their hands; let thy blood and spirit em"brace them And, to inure thyself to what "thou art like to be, cast thy humble slough, and 20 "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. Re"member who commended thy yellow stockings; 25 "and wish'd to see thee ever cross-garter'd': I say, "remember. Go to; thou art made, if thou de"sirest to be so; if not, let me see thee a steward "still, the fellow of servants, and not worthy to "touch Fortune's fingers. Farewel. She, that 30 "would alter services with thee, The fortunate"unhappy." Day-light and champain 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-de-vice, the 35 very man. I do not now fool myself to let imagination jade me; for every reason excites to this, that my lady loves me. She did commend my yellow stockings of late, she did praise my leg being crossgarter'd; and in this she manifests herself to my 40 love, and, with a kind of injunction, drives me to these habits of her liking. I thank my stars, I am happy. I will be strange, stout, in yellow stock

Fab. I will not give my part of this sport for a pension of thousands to be paid from the Sophy. Sir To. I could marry this wench for this device.

Sir And. So could I too.

Sir To. And ask no other dowry with her, but such another jest.

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 And. Or o' mine either?

Sir To. Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, 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-garter'd, 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.



Olivia's Garden.

Enter Viola and Clown.


Vio. SAVE thee, friend, and thy musick:
Dost thou live by thy tabor?

Clo. No, sir, I live by the church.

150 Vio. Art thou a churchman?

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 lies by a beg 55gar, if a beggar dwell near him; or, the church

Meaning, probably, that it shall end in sighing or disappointment. 2 Yellow stockings were, in our author's time, much worn. The puritans of those times affected this fashion, and in a former scene Malvolio is said to have been an affecter of puritanism. * i. e. broad day and an open country cannot make things plainer. i. e. with the utmost possible exactness. "Mr. Steevens supposes tray-trip to have been the name of some game at tables, draughts, or cards; while sir Johu Hawkins says it was a game (much in vogue in our author's days, and still retained among the lower class of young people in the west of England) the same as now goes under the name of Scotch-hop, which was play'd either upon level ground marked out with chalk in the form of squares or diamonds, or upon a chequered pavement. i. e. strong waters.


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Vio. I warrant, thou art a merry fellow, and 20 carest for nothing.

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?

[That comes before his eye. This is a practice,
As full of labour as a wise man's art:
For folly, that he wisely shews, is fit:
But wise men's folly fall'n, quite taints their wit'.
Enter Sir Toby and Sir Andrew.

Sir And. Save you, gentleman.
Vio. And you, sir.

Sir To. Dieu vous garde, monsieur.
Vio. Et vous aussi; votre serviteur.

Sir To. I hope, sir, you are; and I am yours.Will you encounter the house? My niece is desirous you should enter, if your trade be to her.

Vio. I am bound to your niece, sir; I mean, she is the list of my voyage.

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 accomplish'd lady, the heavens rain 25 odours on you!

Clo. No, indeed, sir; the lady Olivia has no folly: she will keep no fool, sir, 'till she be married; and fools are as like husbands, as pilchards are to herrings, the husband's the bigger: I am, 30 indeed, not her fool, but her 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, 35 as with my mistress: I think, I saw your wisdom


Vio. Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee. Hold, there's expences for thee. Clo. Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, 40 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.


Vio. I understand you, sir; 'tis well begg'd. Clo. The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, beg-50 ging but a beggar; Cressida was a beggar. My lady is within, sir. I will conster to them whence you come; who you are, and what you would, is out of my welkin: I might say, element; but the word is over-worn.

[Exit. 55

Vio. This fellow is wise enough to play the fool;
And to do that well, craves a kind of wit :
He must observe their mode on whom he jests,
The quality of the persons, and the time;
And, like the haggard', check at every feather

Sir And. That youth's a rare courtier! Rain odours! 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.

Oli. 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 called 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. For him, I think not on him: for his

Would they were blanks, rather than fill'd with me!
Vio. Madam Icome to whet your gentle thoughts
On his behalf:-

Oli. O, by your leave, I pray you;
bade you never speak again of him;
But, would you undertake another suit,
I had rather hear you to solicit that,
Than musick from the spheres.
Fio. Dear lady,—

Oli. Give me leave, I beseech you: I did send,
After the last enchantment, (you did hear)
A ring in chase of you; so did I abuse
Myself, my servant, and, I fear me, you:
Under your hard construction must I sit,
60To force that on you, in a shameful cunning,

That is, a glove made of kid leather; from chevreau.

2 The haggard is the wild hawk.

i. e. "But wise men's folly, when it is once fallen into extravagance, overpowers their discretion." i. e. the bound, the limit of my voyage.

i. e. ready.

Which you knew none of yours: What might|

you think?

Have you not set mine honour at the stake,

And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts

Fab. You must needs yield your reason, sir Andrew.

Sir And. Marry, I saw your niece do more fa vours to the count's serving-man, than ever she

That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your 5 bestowed upon me; I saw't i' the orchard.


Enough is shewn; a cyprus2, 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 grice'; 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?


Sir To. Did she see thee the while, old boy; tell me that?

Sir And. As plain as I see you now.

Fab. This was a great argument of love in her towards you.

Sir And. 'Slight! will you make an ass o' me? Fab. I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of judgment and reason.

Sir To. And they have been grand jury-men, 15 since before Noah was a sailor.

[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, 20
Your wife is like to reap a proper man :
There lies your way, due west.

Vio. Then westward-hoe:

Grace, and good disposition, attend your ladyship!
You'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 shews not itself more soon
Than love that would seem hid: love's night
Cesario, by the roses of the spring,
By maidhood, honour, truth, and every thing,
I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride,
Nor wit, nor reason, can my passion hide.
Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,
For, that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause:
But, rather, reason thus with reason fetter:
Love sought is good, but given unsought is 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. [move
Oli. Yet come again; for thou, perhaps, may'st
That heart, which now abhors, to like his love.



An Apartment in Olivia's House. Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew and Fabian.

Fab. She did shew favour to the youth in your sight, only to exasperate you, to awaken your dormouse valour, to put fire in your heart, and brimstone in your liver: You should then have accosted her; and with some excellent jests, firenew from the mint, you should have bang'd the youth into dumbness. This was look'd for at your hand, and this was baulk'd: the double-gilt of this opportunity you let time wash off, and you 25 are now sail'd 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.


Sir And. An '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; 35 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 curst and brief: it is no matter how witty, so it be eloquent and full of invention: taunt him with 45 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 50 in thy ink; though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter: About it.


Sir And. No, 'faith, I'll not stay a jot longer. 60
Sir To. Thy reason, dear venom, give thy reason.

Sir And. Where shall I find you? Sir To. We'll call 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.

Fub. We shall have a rare letter from him: but you'll not deliver 't?

Sir To. Never trust me then; and by all means stir on the youth to an answer. I think, oxen and

I i. e. to one of your ready apprehension. A cyprus is a transparent stuff: i. e. a step. The Brownists were so named from Mr. Robert Browne, a famous separatist in queen Elizabeth's reign. • i, e. a hasty, careless, hand. i. e. be pert or petulant,



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