« PreviousContinue »
ever the devil could have made you our de- Mrs. Page. Good George, be not angry: I light?
knew of your purpose; turned my daughter Ford. What, a hodge-pudding? a bag of flax ? into green ; and, indeed, she is now with the Mrs. Page. A puffed man?
doctor at the deanery, and there married. Page. Old, cold, withered, and of intolerable entrails?
Enter Caius. Ford. And one that is aş slanderous as Satan?
Caius. Vere is mistress Page? By gar, I am Page. And as poor as Job?
cozened; Ford. And as wicked as his wife?
I ha' married un garcon, a boy; un Eva. And given to fornications, and to ta- paisan, by gar, a boy; it is not Anne Page: by verns, and sack, and wine, and metheglins, gar, I am cozened. and to drinkings, and swearings, and starings,
Mrs. Page. Why, did you take her in pribbles and prabbles ?
green? Fal. Well, I am your theme: you have the l'Il raise all 'Windsor.
Caius. Ay, be gar, and 'tis a boy: be gar, start of me; I am dejected; I am not able to
[Exit Caius. answer the Welsh flannel ; ignorance itself is
Ford. This is strange: Who hath got the a pluminet o'er me: use me as you will.
right Anne ? Ford. Marry, Sir, we'll bring you to Windsor,
Page. My heart misgives me: Here comes
master Fenton. to one master Brook, that you have cozened of money, to whom you should have been a pan
Enter FENTON und ANNE Page. der: over and above that you have suffered, I think, to repay that money will be a biting How now, master Fenton ? affliction.
Anne. Pardon, good father! good my mother, Mrs. Ford. Nay, husband, let that go to pardon! make amends :
Page. Now, mistress ? how chance you went Forgive that sum, and so we'll all be friends. not with master Slender? Ford. Well, here's my hand; all's forgiven Mrs. Page. Why went you not with master at last.
doctor, maid ? Page. Yet be cheerful, knight: thou shalt eat Fent. You do amaze her: Hear the truth a posset to-night at my house ; where I will
of it. desire thee to laugh at my wife, that now laughs You would have married her most shamefully, at thee: Tell her, master Slender hath married Where there was no proportion held in love. her daughter.
The truth is, She and I, long since contracted, Mrs. Page. Doctors doubt that: If Anne Are now so sure, that nothing can dissolve us. Page be my daughter, she is, by this, doctor The offence is holy, that she hath committed: Caius' wife.
(Aside. And this deceit loses the name of craft, Enter SLENDER.
Of disobedience, or induteous title ;
Since therein she doth evitatet and shun Slen. Whoo, ho! no! father Page.
A thousand irreligious cursed hours, Puge. Son! how now? how now, son ? have which forced marriage would have brought you despatched ?
upon her. Slen. "Despatched-I'll make the best in Ford. Stand not amaz'd: here is no rémeGloucestershire know on't; would I were
dy: hanged, la, else.
In love, the heavens themselves do guide the Page. Of what, son ? Slen. 1 came yonder at Eton to marry mis- Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate. tress Anne Page, and she's a great lubberly Fal. I am glad, though you have ta'en a boy: If it had not been i’ the church, I would special stand to strike at me, that your arrow have swinged him, or he should have swinged hath glanced. me. If I did not think it had been Anne
Page. Well, what remedy? Fenton, heaven Page, would I might never stir, and 'tis a
give thee joy! post-master's boy.
What cannot be eschewd, must be embrac'd. Page. Upon my life then you took the wrong. Fal. When night-dogs run, all sorts of deer Slen. What need you tell me that? I think
are chas'd. so, when I took a boy for a girl: If I had Eva. I will dance and eat plums at your been married to him, for all he was in woman's wedding: apparel, I would not have had him.
Mrs. Page. Well, I will muse no further :Page. Why, this is your own folly: Did not Master Fenton, I tell you, how you should know my daughter Heaven give you many, many merry days ! by her garments ?. Slen. I went to her in white, and cried mum, And laugh this sport o'er by a country fire ;
Good husband, let us every one go home, and she cried budget, as Anne and I had ap- Sir John and all. pointed ; and yet it was not Anne, but a post- Ford. Let it be so :-Sir John, master's boy.
To master Brook you yet shall hold your word : Era. Jeshu! Master Slender, cannot you see For he, to-night, shall lie with Mrs. Ford. but marry boys ? Page. O, I'am vexed at heart: What shall I
* Confound her by your questions. + Avoid.
T WELFTH NI G H T;
WHAT YOU WILL.
ORSINO, Duke of Illyria.
FABIAN, Servants to Olivia.
OLIVIA, a rich Countess.
MARIA, Olivia's woman.
Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians, Sir Toby Belch, Uncle of Olivia.
and other Attendants. Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK.
SCENE, a City in Illyria; and the Sea-coast MALVOLIO, Steward to Olivia.
But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk,
And water once a day her chamber round SCENE I.-An Apartment in the Duke's
With eye-offending brine: all this, to season Palace.
A brother's dead love, which she would keep Enter DUKE, CURIO, LORDS; Musicians And lasting, in her sad remembrance. [fresh, attending.
Duke. O, she, that hath a heart of that fine
frame, Duke. If music be the food of love, play on, To pay this debt of love but to a brother, Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting, How will she love, when the rich golden shaft, The appetite may sicken, and so die.
Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else That strain again ;-it had a dying fall : That live in her! when liver, brain, and heart, 0, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south, These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and That breathes upon a bank of violets,
fill'd, Stealing, and giving odour.—Enough; no (Her sweet perfections,) with one self king!more;
Away before me to sweet beds of flowers; "Tis not so sweet now, as it was before. Love-thoughts lie rich, when canopied 'with spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou !
(Exeunt. That notwithstanding thy capacity Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,
SCENE II.-The Sea Coast.
Enter VIOLA, CAPTAIN, and Sailors.
Vio. What country, friends, is this?
Cap. Illyria, lady: Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord ?
Vio. And what should I do in Illyria ? Duke. What, Curio ?
My brother he is in Elysium. Cur. The hart.
Perchance, he is not drown'd:—What think Duke. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have: you, sailors ? 0, when mine eyes did see Olivia first,
Cap. It is perchance, that you yourself were Methought, she purg'd the air of pestilence;
saved. That instant was I turn'd into a hart;
Vio. O my poor brother! and so, perchance, And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, E’er since pursue me.-How now? what news
Cap. True, madam: and, to comfort you with from her ?
Assure yourself, after our ship did split, Enter VALENTINE.
When you, and that poor number saved with Val. So please my lord, I might not be ad
Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother, Bat from ber handmaid do return this answer: Most provident in peril, bind himself The element itself, till seven years heat,& (Courage and hope both teaching him the Shall not behold her face at ample view;
To a strong mast, that lived upon the sea, • Value + Fantastical to the height. Heated. Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back,
may he be.
I saw him bold acquaintance with the waves, you: I heard my lady talk of it yesterday; and So long as I could see.
of a foolish knight, that you brought in one Vio. For saying so, there's gold:
night here, to be her wooer. Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope, Sir To. Who? Sir Andrew Ague-cheek? Whereto thy speech serves for authority,
Mar. Ay, he. The like of him. Know'st thou this country? Sir To. He's as tall* a man as any's in Illyria. Cap. Ay, Madam, well; for I was bred and Mar. What's that to the purpose ? born,
Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats Not three hours' travel from this very place. Vio. Who governs here?
Mar. Aye, but he'll have but a year in all Cap. A noble duke, in nature,
these ducats; he's a very fool, and a prodigal. As in his name.
Sir To. Fye, that you'll say so! he plays o' Vio. What is his name?
the viol-de-gambo, and speaks three or four Cap. Orsino.
languages word for word without book, and Vio. Orsino! I have heard my father name hath all the good gifts of nature. He was a bachelor then.
[him: Mar. He hath, indeed,
-almost natural : for, Cap. And so is now,
besides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller; Or was so very late : for but a month
and, but that he hath the gift of a coward to Ago I went from hence; and then 'twas fresh allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought In murmur; (as, you know, what great ones do, among the prudent, he would quickly have the The less will prattle of,) that he did seek gift of a grave, The love of fair Olivia.
Sir To. By this hand, they are scoundrels, Vio. What's she?
and substractors, that say so of him. Who are Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a they? count
Mar. They that add moreover, he's drunk That died some twelvemonth since; then leav- nightly in your company. In the protection of his son, her brother, Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece; Who shortly also died : for whose dear love, I'll drink to her, as long as there is a passage They say, she hath abjur'd the company in my throat, and drink in Illyria : He's a And sight of men.
coward and a coystril,t that will not drink to Vio. , that I served that lady:
my niece, till his brains turn o' the toe like a And might not be delivered to the world, parish-top. What, wench? Castiliano vulgo; Till I had made mine own occasion mellow, for here comes Sir Andrew Ague-face. What my estate is. Cap. That were hard to compass;
Enter Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK. Because she will admit no kind of suit,
Sir And. Sir Toby, Belch! how now, Sir Toby No, not the duke's.
Sir And. Bless you, fair shrew.
Sir To. Accost, Sir Andrew, accost.
Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen. Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll Sir To. An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, be:
(see! 'would you might'st never draw sword again. When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not
Sir And. An you part so, mistress, I would Vio. I thank thee : Lead me on. [Exeunt. I might never draw sword again. Fair lady, SCENE III.-A Room in Olivia's House. do you think you have fools in hand ?
Mar. Sir, I have not you by the hand.
Sir And. Marry, but you shall have; and Sir To. What a plague means my niece, to here's my hand. take the death of her brother thus? I am sure, Mar. Now, Sir, thought is free: I pray you, care's an enemy to life.
bring your hand to the buttery-bar, and let it Mar. By troth, Sir Toby, you must come in drink. earlier o’nights ; your cousin, my lady, takes Sir And. Wherefore sweet heart? what's great exceptions to your ill hours.
your metaphor ? Sir To. Why, let her except before excepted. Mar. It's dry, Sir,
Mar. Ay, but you must confine yourself Sir And. Why, I think so; I am not such a. within the modest limits of order.
ass, but I can keep my hand dry. But what's Sir To. Confine? I'll confine myself no finer your jest ? than I am: these clothes are good enough to Mar. A dry jest, Sir. drink in, and so be these boots too; an they Sir And. Are you full of them? be not, let them'hang themselves in their own Mar. Ay, Sir; I have them at my fingers' straps.
ends : marry, now I let go your hand, I am Mar. That quafting and drinking will undo barren.
(Exit MARIA. * Approve.
+ Keystril, a bastard hawk.
Sir To. O knight, thou lack’st a cup of ca- | wards you, Cesario, you are like to be much nary: When did I see thee so put down? advanced; he hath known you but three days,
Sir And. Never in your life, I think; unless and already you are no stranger. you see canary put me down: Methinks, some- Vio. You either fear his humour, or my times I have no more wit than a Christian, or negligence, that you call in question the conan ordinary man has : but I am a great eater tinuance of his love: Is he inconstant, Sir, in of beef, and, I believe, that does harm to my his favours ? wit.
Val. No, believe me.
Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants.
Vio. I thank you. Here comes the count. Sir To. Pourquoy, my dear knight?
Duke. Who saw Cesario, ho? Sir And. What is pourquoy? do or not do? I
Vio. On your attendance, my lord; here. would I had bestowed that time in the tongues,
Duke. Stand you awhile aloof.-Cesario, that I have in fencing, dancing, and bear-bait- Thou know'st no less but all; I hare unclasp'd ing: 0, had I but followed the arts !
To thee the book even of my secret soul : Sir To. Then hadst thou had an excellent Therefore, good youth, address thy gait* unto bead of hair.
her; Sir And, Why, would that have mended my And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow,
Be not denied access, stand at her doors, hair?
Sir To. Past question ; for thou seest, it will | Till thou have audience. not curl by nature.
Vio. Sure, my noble lord, Sir And. But it becomes me well enough, If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow does't not?
As it is spoke, she never will admit me. Sir To. Excellent; it hang's like flax on a Duke. Be clamorous, and leap all civil distaff; and I hope to see a housewife take bounds, thee between her legs, and spin it off.
Rather than make unprofited return. Sir And. 'Faith, I'll home to-morrow, Sir
Vio. Say, I do speak with her, my lord; Toby: your niece will not be seen; or, if she
What then ? be, it's four to one she'll none of me: the count Surprise her
with discourse of my dear faith :
Duke. O, then unfold the passion of my love, himself, here hard by, wooes her.
Sir To. She'll none o' the count; she'll not It shall become thee well to act my woes; match above her degree, neither in estate, She will attend it better in thy youth, years, nor wit; I have heard her swear it! Than in a nuncio of more grave aspect. Tut, there's life in't, man.
Vio. I think not so, my lord. Sir And. I'll stay a month longer. I am a
Duke. Dear lad, believe it; fellow othe strangest mind i' the world; i For they shall yet belie thy happy years delight in masques and revels sometimes alto-That say, thou art a man: Diana's lip gether.
Is not more smooth, and rubious; thy small Sir To. Art thou good at these kick-shaws, Is as the maiden's organ, shrill, and sound, knight?
Sir And. As any man in Illyria, whatsoever And all is semblative a woman's part.
For this affair :-Some four, or five, attend him; Sir To. What is thy excellence in a galliard, All, if you will; for I myself am best, knight?
When least in company Prosper well in this, Sir And. 'Faith, I can cut a caper.
And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord, Sir To. And I can cut the mutton to't.
To call his fortunes thine. Sir And. And, I think, I have the back-trick, To woo your lady: yet, [Aside.) a barfult strife!
Vio. I'll do my best, simply as strong as any man in Illyria.
Sir To. Wherefore are these things hid? Whoe'er I woo, myselt would be his wife. wherefore have these gifts a curtain before
[Exeunt. them ? are they like to take dust, like mistress SCENE V.-A Room in Olivia's House. Mall's picture? why dost thou not go to church
Enter Maria, and Clown. in a galliard, and come home in a coranto? My very walk should be a jig; I would not so
Mar. Nay, either tell me where thou hast much as make water, but in a sink-a-pace.* been, or I will not open my lips, so wide as a What dost thou mean ? is it a world to hide bristle may enter, in way of thy excuse: my virtues in? I did think, by the excellent con- lady will hang thee for thy absence. stitution of thy leg, it was forined under the Clo. Let her hang me: hē, that is well hanged star of a galliard.
in this world, needs to fear no colours. Sir And. Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indiffe
Mar. Make that good.
Clo. He shall see none to fear. rent well in a lame-coloured stock.t Shall we set about some revels ?
Mur. A good lentent answer: I can tell thee Sir To. What shall we do else? were we pot where that saying was born, of, I fear no coborn under Taurus ?
lours. Sir And. Taurus ? that's sides and heart.
Clo. Where, good mistress Mary? Sir To. No, Sir; it is legs and thighs. Let
Mar. In the wars; and that may you be bold me see thee caper: ha! higher: ha, ha!-ex
to say in your foolery. cellent!
Clo. Well, God give them wisdom, that have
it; and those that are fools, let them use their SCENE IV.-A Room in the Duke's Palace.
Mar. Yet you will be hanged, for being so Enter VALENTINE, and Viola in man's attire. long absent : or, to be turned away; is not that Val. If the duke continue these favours to- as good as a hanging to you ?
* Go thy way, . Cinquc sace, the name of a dance. Stocking | Full of impediments.
Short and spare.
Clo. Many a good hanging prevents a bad more brain than a stone. Look you now, he's marriage ; and, for turning away, let summer out of his guard already; unless you laugh and bear it out.
minister occasion to him, he is gagged, I proMar. You are resolute then ?
test, I take these wise men, that crow so at Clo. Not so neither; but I am resolved on these set kind of fools, no better than the fools' two points.
zanies.* Mar. That, if one break," the other will hold; Oli. (), you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, or, if both break, your gaskins fall.
and taste with a distempered appetite. To be Clo. Apt, in good faith ; very apt! Well, go generous, guiltless, and of free disposition, is thy way, if Sir Toby, would leave drinking, to take those things for bird-bolts,t that you thou wert as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any deem cannon-bullets : There is no slander in in Illyria.
an allowed fool, though he do nothing but rail; Mar. Peace, you rogue, no more o' that; por no railing in a known discreet man, though here comes my lady: make your excuse wisely, he do nothing but reprove. you were best.
[Exit. Clo. Now Mercury endue thee with leasing,
for thou speakest well of fools ! Enter Olivia, und MALVOLIO.
Re-enter Maria. Clo. Wit, and't be thy will, put me into good fooling! Those wits, that think they have thee, Mar. Madam, there is at the gate a young do very oft prove fools; and I, that am sure I gentleman, much desires to speak with you. lack thee, may pass for a wise man : For what Oli. From the count Orsino, is it? says Quinapalus? Better a witty fool, than a Mar. I know not, madam ; 'tis a fair young foolish wit. -God bless thee, lady!
man, and well attended. Oli. Take the fool away.
oli. Who of my people hold him in delay ? Clo. Do you not hear, fellows ? Take away Mar. Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman, the lady.
Oli, Fetch him off, I pray you ; he speaks Oli. Go to, you're a dry fool ; I'll no more of nothing but madman: Fye on him! (Exit you : besides, you grow dishonest.
MARIA.] Go you, Malvolio; if it be a suit from Clo. Two faults, madonna,t that drink and the count, I am sick, or not at home; what you good counsel will amend: for give the dry fool will, to dismiss it.” (Exit Malvolio.). Now drink, then is the fool not dry ; bid the dishon- you see, Sir, how your fooling grows old, and est mán mend himself; if he mend, he is no people dislike it. longer dishonest; if he cannot, let the botcher Clo. Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if mend him : Any thing, that's mended, is but thy eldest son should be a fool : whose skull patched : virtue, that transgresses, is but pat- Jove cram with brains, for here he comes, one ched with sin; and sin, that aménds, is but of thy kin, has a most weak pia mater. patched with virtue: If that this simple syllo
Enter Sir TOBY BELCH. gism will serve, so; if it will not, What remedy? As there is no true cuckold but calamity, Oli. By mine honour, half drunk.-What is so beauty's a flower :—the lady bade take away he at the gate, cousin ? the fool; therefore, I say again, take her away.
Sir To. A gentleman. Oli. Sir, I bade them take away you.
Oli. A gentleman ? What gentleman ? Clo. Misprision in the highest degree!-Lady,
Sir To. "Tis a gentleman here--A plague o' Cucullus non facit monachum ; that's as much as these pickle-herrings !-How now, sot ? to say, I wear not motely in my brain. Good
Clo. Good Sir Toby, madonna, give me leave to prove you a fool.
Oli. Cousin, cousin, how have you come so Oli. Can you do it?
early by this lethargy? Clo. Dexterously, good madonna.
Sir To. Lechery! I defy lechery: There's one Oli. Make your proof.
at the gate. Clo. I must catechize you for it, madonna;
Oli. Ay, marry; what is he? Good my mouse of virtue, answer me.
Sir To. Let him be the devil, an he will, I Oli. Well, Sir, for want of other idleness, care not: give me faith, say I. Well, it's all I'll 'bide your proof.
(Erit, Clo. Good madonna, why mourn'st thou ?
Oli. What's a drunken man like, fool ? Oli. Good fool, for my brother's death.
Clo. Like a drown'd man, a fool, and a madClo. I think, his soul is in hell, madonna. man: one draught above heat makes him a Oli. I know his soul is in heaven, fool.
fool; the second mads him; and a third drowns Clo. The more fool you, madonna, to mourn
him. for your brother's soul being in heaven.--Take
Oli. Go thou and seek the coroner, and let away the fool, gentlemen.
him sit o' my coz; for he's in the third degree oli
. What think you of this fool, Malvolio ? of drink, he's drown'd: go look after him. doth he not mend ?
Clo. He is but mad yet, madonna ; and the Mal. Yes; and shall do, till the pangs of fool shall look to the madman. [Exit Clown. death shake him : Infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever make the better fool.
Re-enter. MALVOLIO. Cló. God send you, Sir, a speedy infirmity,
Mul. Madam, yond young fellow swears he for the better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will speak with you. I told him you were sick will be sworn, that I am no fox ; but he will he takes on him to understand so much, and not pass his word for two-pence that you are therefore comes to speak with you : I told him no fool.
you were asleep; he seems to have a fore-knowOli, How say you to that, Malvolio?
ledge of that too, and therefore comes to speak Mal. 1 marvel your ladyship takes delight in with you. What is to be said to him, lady? such a barren rascal ; I saw him put down the he's fortified against any denial. other day with an ordinary fool, that has no Oli. Tell him, he shall not speak with me, * Points were hooks which fastened the hose or breeches.
* Fools' baubles. Short arrows. Lying, Italian, mistress, dame,
| The cover of the brain.