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extravagancy: but I perceive in you fo excellent a touch of modefty, that you will not extort from me what I am willing to keep in; therefore it charges me in manners the rather to express myself: you myft know of me then, Antonio, my name is Sebastian, which I callid Rodorigo ; my father was that Sebastian of Mejjaline, whom, I knoiv, you have heard of. He left behind him, myself, and a fifter, both born in one hour; if the heav'ns had been pleas’d, would we had so ended! but you, Sir, alter'd that; for, some hour before
took me from the breach of the sea, was my sister drown'd. Ant. Alas, the day!
Seb. A Lady, Sir, tho' it was said the much resembled me, was yet of many accounted beautiful; but tho' I could not with such estimable wonder over-far believe that, yet thus far I will boldly publish her, she
a mind that envy could not but call fair; she is drown'd already, Sir, with salt water, tho' I seem to drown her remembrance again with more.
Ant. Pardon me, Sir, your bad entertainment.
Ant. If you will not murder me for my love, let me be your servant. Seb. If
will not undo what you have done, that is, kill him whom you have recover'd, desire it not. Fare
ye well at once'; my bosom is full of kindness, and I am yet so near the manners of my mother, that upon the least occasion more, mine eyes will tell tales of me: I am bound to the Duke Orsino's court; fare. wel.
[Exit. Ant. The gentleness of all the gods go with thee! I have made enemies in Orsino's court, Else would I very shortly see thee there : But come what may, I do adore thee so, That danger shall seem sport, and I will go. [Exit.
Enter Viola and Malvolio, at several doors. Mal. Were not you e'en now with the Countess Olivia?
Vio. Even now, Sir; on a moderate pace I have since arrived but hither.
Mal. She returns this ring to you, Sir; you might have saved me my pains, to have taken it away your self. She adds moreover, that you mould put your Lord into a desperate assurance, she will none of him. And one thing more, that you be never so hardy to come again in his affairs, unless it be to report your Lord's taking of this : receive it so.
Vio. She took the ring of me, I'll none of it.
Mal. Come, Sir, you peevishly threw it to her, and , her will is, it should be so returned: if it be worth stooping for, there it lies in your eye; if not, be it his that finds it.
[Exit. Vio. I left no ring with her; what means this Lady? Fortune forbid, my outside have not charm’d her! She made good view of me; indeed, so much, That, sure, methought, her eyes had lost her tongue; For she did speak in starts distractedly : She loves me, sure ; the cunning of her passion Invites me in this churlik messenger. None of my Lord's ring? why, he sent her none. I am the man--if it be so, (as, 'tis ;) Poor Lady, she were better love a dream. Disguise, I see thou art a wickedness, Wherein the pregnant enemy does much. How easy is it, for the proper false In womens waxen hearts to set their forms ! Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we, For such as we are made, if such we be. How will this fadge? my master loves her dearly, And I, poor monster, fond as much on him ; And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me: What will become of this ? as I am man, My state is desperate for my master's love; As I am woman, (now, alas the day!) What thriftless fighs shall poor Olivia breathe ! O time, thou must untangle this, not I; It is too hard a knot for me t'unty.
SCENE changes to Olivia's House.
Enter Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew. Sir To.
ter midnight, is to be up betimes ; and Diluculo furgere, thou know', -
Sir And. Nay, by my troth, I know not: but I know, to be up late, is to be up
late. Sir To. A falfe conclusion: I hate it, as an unfill'd can;
after midnight, and to go to bed then, is early; so that to go to bed after midnight, is to go to bed betimes. Does not our life consist of the four elements ?
Sir And. 'Faith, so they say; but, I think, it rather consists of eating and drinking.
Sir To. Th’art a scholar, let us therefore eat and drink. Maria ! I say!
a ftoop of wine.
Sir And. Here comes the fool, i' faith.
Clo. How now, my hearts ? did you never see the picture of we three?
Sir To. Welcome, ass, now let's have a catch.
Sir And. (5) By my troth, the fool has an excellent breast. I had rather than forty shillings I had such a leg, and fo sweet a breath to fing, as the fool has. Infooth, thou wait in very gracious fooling last night, when thou spok'it of Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians parfing the equinoctial of Queubus : 'twas very good, i' faith : (6) I sent thee lux-pence for thy Leman, had'ft it?
(5) By my troth, the fuol bas an excellent breaft.] I have been advis'd to read, breath, here. But the text is, certainly, right without any alteration. The allusion is not to the clown having a white skin, but a good power in singing. It was a phrase in vogue, in our author's time. In a Spanish vocabulary, printed in Queen Elizabeth's reign, Aquel tiene linda boz is thus expounded; He bas a good breast; i. e. as we now say, good lungs, to hold out in finging. So Ben Johnson, in his masque of Gipsies metamorphos'd;
An excellent song, and a sweet songster, and would have done rarely in a cage, with a dish of water and hempseed; fine breast of his own! And Beaumont and Fletcher, in their Pilgrim; Pray you, stay a little: Let's hear him fing, h’as a fine breast.
Clo. I did impetticos thy gratillity; for Malvolio's nose is no whip-stock. My Lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses.
Sir And. Excellent: why, this is the best fooling, when all is done. Now, a fong.
Sir To. Come on, there's fix-pence for you Let's have a song:
Sir And. There's a testril of me too; if one Knight give a
Clo. Would you have a love-song, or a song of
Sir To. A love-song, a love-fong.
That can fing both high and low.
Ev'ry wise man's son doth know.
Sir To. Good, good.
Present mirth hath present laughter : (6) I sent thee fixopence for tby Lemon, bad 'A it.] But the Clown was neither pancler, nor butler The Poet's word was certainly mis. taken by the ignorance of the Printers. I have restored, lcman, i.e. I sent thee fix-pence to spend on thy mistress. So, in Mirry Wives of Windsor;
as jealous as Foid, that search'd a hollow wallnut for his wife's leman; 2 Henry IV.
A cup of wine, that's brisk and fine,
And drink unto the leman mine; The word was used indifferently, to signify, either a mil. refs, or gale lant; as the word, lover, stood for both sexesa
What's to come, is still unsure;
Youth's a stuff will not endure.
Sir And. A mellifluous voice, as I am a true Knight.
Sir To. To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in contagion. But shall we make the welkin dance, indeed ? (7) Shall we rouze the night-owl in a catch, that will draw three souls out of one weaver ? shall we do that?
Sir And. An you love me, let's do't: I am a dog at a catch.
Clo. By'r Lady, Sir, and some dogs will catch well.
(7) Shall we rowze the night-owl in a catch, that will draw three souls out of one weaver?] i. e. by which he shall be thrice transported, or equally transported with every one of us three fingers. As for drawing out the foul, this is a phrase, which, as it seems, our author delights to use, to express the ravill.ing power of musick. Much Ado about Nothing.
Now is his soul ravishd. Is it not strange that sheep's guts should icle souls out of men's bod:es, &c.
But, perhaps, by mentioning three fouls, Sir Tuby may be hinting at the peripatetic philofophy (the learning then in vogue,) which very liberally gave to every man three fouls, the vegitative or plastic, the emimai, and the rational. I would not imagine that Shakej peare bad no further drift in this, than either to expose that system, or make a parade of his own knowledge. Those, who are conversant in him, can't but observe, that he takes delight on all occafions to display the. great power and force of musick. And here, in the moft extraordinary manner, he conveys to us the idea of that power in its full exa tent as we receive it from poetical relations. For in fpeaking of it's power, to draw the tbree fouls out of a man, viz. the vegitative or plaftic, the fenfative or animal, and the rational or human, he would infinuate to us all those surprizing effects of musick that the antients fpeak of, when they tell us of Ampbion who mov'd stones and trees; Orpheus and Arion, who tam'd the savages; and Timotheus, who govern'd as he pleas'd the passions of his human auditors, by the irrefiftible force of harmony. So noble and extraordinary an obfervation has our author cover'd under the ribaldry of a fantastick character.