Mal. Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to my lady. Clo. Out, hyperbolical fiend! how vexest thou this man? talkest thou nothing but of ladies? Sir To. Well said, master parson. Mal. Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged: good Sir Topas, do not think I am mad; they have laid me here in hideous darkness. Clo. Fie, thou dishonest Sathan! I call thee by the most modest terms; for I am one of those gentle ones, that will use the devil himself with courtesy: Say'st thou, that house is dark? Mal. As hell, Sir Topas. Clo. Why, it hath bay-windows* transparent as barricadoes, and the clear stones towards the south-north are as lustrous as ebony; and yet complainest thou of obstruction? Mal. I am not mad, Sir Topas; I say to you, this house is dark. Clo. Madman, thou errest: I say, there is no darkness, but ignorance; in which thou art more puzzled, than the Egyptians in their fog. Mal. I say, this house is as dark as ignorance, though ignorance were as dark as hell; and I say, there was never man thus abused: I am no more mad than you are; make the trial of it in any constant question.t Clo. What is the opinion of Pythagoras, concerning wild-fowl? Mal. That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird. Clo. What thinkest thou of his opinion? Mal. I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his opinion. Clo. Fare thee well: Remain thou still in darkness: thou shalt hold the opinion of Pythagoras, ere I will allow of thy wits; and fear to kill a woodcock, lest thou dispossess the soul of thy grandam. Fare thee well. Mal. Sir Topas, Sir Topas, Sir To. My most exquisite Sir Topas! Mar. Thou might'st have done this without thy beard, and gown; he sees thee not. Sir To. To him in thine own voice, and bring me word how thou findest him: I would, we were well rid of this knavery. If he may be conveniently delivered, I would he were; for I am now so far in offence with my niece, that I cannot pursue with any safety this sport to the upshot. Come by and by to my chamber. [Exeunt Sir TOBY and MARIA. Clo. Hey Robin, jolly Robin, Tell me how thy lady does. [Singing. Mal. Fool, Clo. My lady My lady is unkind, perdy. Mal. Fool, Clo. Alas, why is she so? Mal. Fool, I say ; Clo. She loves another-Who calls, ha?: Mal. Good fool, as ever thou wilt deserve well at my hand, help me to a candle, and pen, ink, and paper; as I am a gendeman, I will live to be thankful to thee for't. Clo. Master Malvolio! Mal. Fool, fool, fool, I say,一 Clo. Alas, Sir, be patient. What say you, Sir? I am shent for speaking to you. Mal. Good fool, help me to some light, and some paper; I tell thee, I am as well in my wits, as any man in Illyria. Clo. Well-a-day, that you were, Sir! ink, paper, and light, and convey what I will set down to my lady; it shall advantage thee more than ever the bearing earing of letter did. Clo. I will help you to't. But tell me true, are you not mad indeed? or do you but counterfeit? Mal. Believe me, I am not; I tell thee true. Clo. Nay, I'll ne'er believe a madman, till I see his brains. I will fetch you light, and paper, and ink. Mal. Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree: I pr'ythee, begone. Clo. I am gone, Sir, Like to the old vice,t Who with dagger of lath, SCENE III.-OLIVIA'S Garden. [Exit. Seb. This is the air; that is the glorious sun; This pearl she gave me, I do feel't, and see't: And though 'tis wonder that enwraps me thus, Yet 'tis not madness. Where's Antonio then? I could not find him at the Elephant: sense, That this may be some error, but no madness, followers, Enter OLIVIA and a PRIEST. I come again. I go, Sir; but I would not have Oli. Blame not this haste of mine: If you you to think, that my desire of having is the sin of covetousness: but, as you say, Sir, let your bounty take a nap, I will awake it anon. [Exit CLOWN. mean well, Seb. I'll follow this good man, and go with Clo. No, Sir, the worse. Duke. How can that be? Clo. Marry, Sir, they praise me, and make an ass of me; now my foes tell me plainly I am an ass: so that by my foes, Sir, I profit in the knowledge of myself; and by my friends I am abused: so that, conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives make your two affirmatives, why, then the worse for my friends, and the better for my foes. Duke. Why, this is excellent. Clo. By my troth, Sir, no; though it please you to be one of my friends. Duke. Thou shalt not be the worse for me; there's gold. Clo. But that it would be double-dealing, Clo. Put your grace in your pocket, Sir, for this once, and let your flesh and blood obey it. Duke. Well, I will be so much a sinner to be a double-dealer; there's another. Clo. Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play; and the old saying is, the third pays for all: the triplex, Sir, is a good tripping measure; or the bells of St. Bennet, Sir, may put you in mind; One, two, three. Enter ANTONIO and OFFICERS. Vio. Here comes the man, Sir, that did rescue me. Duke. That face of his I do remember well; 1 Off. Orsino, this is that Antonio, And this is he, that did the Tiger board, But, in conclusion, put strange speech upon me, Duke. Notable pirate! thou salt-water thief! mercies, Whom thou, in terms so bloody, and so dear, Ant. Orsino, noble Sir, Be pleas'd that I shake off these names you Antonio never yet was thief, or pirate, Duke. You can fool no more money out of, But for thee, fellow, fellow, thy words are me at this throw if you will let your lady know, I am here to speak with her, and bring her along with you, it may awake my bounty further. Clo. Marry, Sir, lullaby to your bounty, till • Little chapel. madness: Three months this youth hath tended upon me; + Until * Mischievous. † Freight. Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?- Duke. Gracious Olivia, Oli. What do you say, Cesario? - Good my lord, 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 to 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 faithfull'st offerings hath breath'd out, That e'er devotion 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, Like to the Egyptian thief, at point of death, That screws me from my true place in your favour, Live you, the marble-breasted tyrant, still; 1'11 sacrifice the lamb that I do love, Oli. Where goes Cesario? Vio. After him I love, [Following. More than I love these eyes, more than my life. Oli. Ah me, detested! how am I beguil'd! wrong? Oli. Hast thou forgot thyself! Is it so long!-Call forth the holy father. Duke. Come away. [Exit an Attendant. [TO VIOLA. Oli. Whither my lord?-Cesario, husband, stay. Duke. Husband? Oli. Ay, husband; Can he that deny? 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 [father! As great as that thou fear'st.-0, welcome, Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence, When time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy case?* [fear. Hold little faith, though thou hast too much Enter Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK, with his head broke. Sir And. For the love of God, a surgeon; send one presently to Sir Toby. Oli. What's the matter? Sir And. He has broke my head across, and has given Sir Toby a bloody coxcomb too: for the love of God, your help: I had rather than forty pounds, is, I were at home. Oli. Who has done this, Sir Andrew? Sir And. The count's gentleman, one Cesario: we took him for a coward, but he's the very devil incardinate. Duke. My gentleman, Cesario! broke my head for nothing; and that that I Sir And. Od's lifelings here he is:-You 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 * Skin, But, had it been the brother of my blood, I must have done no less, with wit, and safety. We made each other but so late ago. Duke. One face, one voice, one habit, and Hath my maid's garments: he, upon some A natural perspective, that is, and is not. two persons; Seb. Antonio, O my dear Antonio! How have the hours rack'd and tortur'd me, Since I have lost thee. An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin Seb. Do I stand there? I never had a brother: Nor can there be that deity in my nature, Vio. The captain, that did bring me first on shore, action, Is now in durance; at Malvolio's suit, A gentleman, and follower of my lady's. And yet, alas, now I remember me, A most extracting frenzy 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 Whom the blind waves and surges have de- madman's epistles are no gospels, so it skills vour'd: Of charity, what kin are you to me? [TO VIOLA. What countryman? what name? what parentage? Vio. Of Messaline: Sebastian was my father; Such a Sebastian was my brother too, So went he suited to his watery tomb: If spirits can assume both form and suit You come to fright us. Seh. A spirit I am, indeed; But am in that dimension grossly clad. Which from the womb I did participate, Were you a woman, as the rest goes even, I should my tears let fall upon your cheek, And say-Thrice welcome, drowned Viola! Vio. My father had a mole upon his brow. Seb. And so had mine. Vio. And died that day when Viola from her birth Had number'd thirteen years. Seb. O, that record is lively in my soul! He finished, indeed, his mortal act, That day that made my sister thirteen years. Vio. If nothing letst to make us happy both, But this my masculine usurp'd attire, I'll bring you to a captain in this town, You are betroth'd both to a maid and man. Oli. Read it you, sirrah. Fab. [Reads. 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 leave my duty a little unthought of, and speak out of my injury. hither. The madly-used MALVOLIO. Oli. Did he write this? Clo. Ay, madam. Duke. This savours not much of distraction. Oli. See him deliver'd, Fabian; bring him [Exit FABIAN. My lord, so please you, these things further thought on, To think me as well a sister as a wife, One day shall crown the alliance on't, so please you, Here at my house, and at my proper cost Duke. Madam, I am most apt to embrace your offer. Your master quits you; [To VIOLA.] and, for your service done him, So much against the mettle of your sex, Duke. Be not amaz'd; right noble is his So far beneath your soft and tender breeding, Mal. Madam, you have done me wrong, * Voice. + Attend. Frame and constitution * Cheated. Notorious wrong. Oli. Have I, Malvolio? no. Oli. Alas, poor fool! how have they baffled thee! Clo. Why, some are born great, some achieve Mal. Lady you have. Pray you, peruse that greatness, and some have greatness thrown upon letter: You must not now deny it is your hand, Oli. Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing, Though, I confess, 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 [Exit. you. Oli. He hath been most notoriously abus'd. peace: He hath not told us of the captain yet; Of our dear souls-Mean time, sweet sister, SONG, smiling, [Exeunt. And in such forms which here were presuppos'd Clo. When that I was and a little tiny boy, Upon thee in the letter. Pr'ythee, be content: But, when we know the grounds and authors thee; Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge Fab. Good madam, hear me speak; Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, A foolish thing was but a toy, For the rain it raineth every day. But when I came to man's estate, With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, 'Gainst knave and thief men shut their gate. For the rain it raineth every day. But when I came, alas! to wive, With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, But when I came unto my bed, { Shall serve. |