Oli. Hast thou forgot thyself? is it so long?—

Call forth the holy father.

Duke.
Oli. Whither, my lord ?-Cesario, husband, stay.

Duke. Husband!

Oli.

[Exit an Attendant.

Come, away!

[To Viola.

Ay, husband: can he that deny?

Duke. Her husband, sirrah!

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
As great as that thou fear'st.

Re-enter Attendant, with Priest.

O, welcome, father!

Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence,
Here to unfold (though lately we intended
To keep in darkness what occasion now
Reveals before 'tis ripe) what thou dost know
Hath newly pass'd between this youth and me.

Priest. A contract of eternal bond of love,
Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands,
Attested by the holy close of lips,

Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings;
And all the ceremony of this compáct

Seal'd in my function, by my testimony:

Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave

I have travell'd but two hours.

Duke. O thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be
When time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy case?

Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow,
That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow?
Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feet
Where thou and I henceforth may never meet.
Vio. My lord, I do protest,-

Oli.

O, do not swear!

Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear.

Enter Sir ANDREW AGUECHEEK, with his head broken.

Sir And. For the love of God, a surgeon! send one presently to Sir Toby.

Oli. What's the matter?

Sir And. 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 pound 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?

Sir And. 'Od's lifelings, here he is!-You broke my head for nothing; and that that I 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 not.

Sir And. If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me: I think you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb.-Here comes Sir Toby halting,-you shall hear more: but if he had not been in drink, he would have tickled you othergates than he did.

Enter Sir TOBY BELCH, led by the Clown.

Duke. How now, gentleman! how is 't with you?

Sir To. That's all one: has hurt me, and there's the end on 't. Sot, didst see Dick surgeon, sot?

Clo. O, he's drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyes were set at eight i' the morning.

Sir To. Then he's a rogue and a passy-measures pavin: I hate a drunken rogue.

Oli. Away with him! Who hath made this havoc with them?

Sir And. I'll help you, Sir Toby, because we'll be dressed together.

Sir To. Will you help,-an ass-head and a coxcomb and a knave, a thin-faced knave, a gull?

Oli. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to.

[Exeunt Clown, Fabian, Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew.

Enter SEBASTIAN.

Seb. I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kinsman; But, had it been the brother of my blood,

I must have done no less with wit and safety.

You throw a strange regard upon me, and by that

I do perceive it hath offended you:

Pardon me, sweet one, even for the vows

We made each other but so late ago.

Duke. One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons,—

A natural perspective, that is and is not!

Seb. Antonio, O my dear Antonio!

How have the hours rack'd and tortur'd me,

Since I have lost thee!

Ant. Sebastian are you?

Seb.

Fear'st thou that, Antonio?

Ant. How have you made division of yourself?

An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin

Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian?

Oli. Most wonderful!

Seb. Do I stand there? I never had a brother;
Nor can there be that deity in my nature,

Of here and every where. I had a sister,
Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd.-
Of charity, what kin are you to me?
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.

Seb.
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.

[To Viola.

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 lets to make us happy both
But this my masculine usurp'd attire,

Do not embrace me till each circumstance

Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and jump,
That I am Viola: which to confirm,

I'll bring you to a captain in this town,

Where lie my maiden weeds; by whose gentle help
I was preserv'd (40) to serve this noble count.
All the occurrence of my fortune since

Hath been between this lady and this lord.

Seb. So comes it, lady, you have been mistook:

But nature to her bias drew in that.

You would have been contracted to a maid;
Nor are you therein, by my life, deceiv'd,-
You are betroth'd both to a maid and man.

[To Olivia.

Duke. Be not amaz'd; right noble is his blood.—
If this be so, as yet the glass seems true,

I shall have share in this most happy wreck.-
Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times
Thou never shouldst love woman like to me.

Vio. And all those sayings will I over-swear;
And all those swearings keep as true in soul
As doth that orbèd continent the fire
That severs day from night.

Duke.

Give me thy hand;

And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds.

[To Viola.

Vio. The captain that did bring me first on shore

Hath my maid's garments: he, upon some action,

Is now in durance; at Malvolio's suit,

A gentleman, and follower of my lady's.

Oli. He shall enlarge him :-fetch Malvolio hither :—

And yet, alas, now I remember me,

They say, poor gentleman, he's much distract.

Re-enter Clown with a letter, and FABIAN.

A most extracting (4) frenzy of mine own
From my remembrance clearly banish'd his.—
How does he, sirrah?

Clo. Truly, madam, he holds Beelzebub at the stave's end as well as a man in his case may do: has here writ a letter to you; I should have given 't you to-day morning,—but as a madman's epistles are no gospels, so it skills not much when they are delivered.

Oli. Open 't, and read it.

Clo. Look, then, to be well edified when the fool delivers the madman. [Reads.] "By the Lord, madam,”—

Oli. How now! art thou mad?

Clo. No, madam, I do but read madness: an your ladyship will have it as it ought to be, you must allow vox. Oli. Prithee, read i' thy right wits.

Clo. So I do, madonna; but to read his right wits is to read thus therefore perpend, my princess, and give ear. Oli. Read it you, sirrah.

[To Fabian.

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.

Oli. Did he write this?

Clo. Ay, madam.

THE MADLY-USED MALVOLIO."

Duke. This savours not much of distraction.

Oli. See him deliver'd, Fabian; bring him hither.

[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.