SCENE I. Enough; no more; Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there, Of what validity and pitch soever, Even in a minute! so full of shapes is fancy Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord? What, Curio? E'er since pursue me.- How now? what news from her? Enter VALENTINE. Val. So please my lord, I might not be admitted, But from her handmaid do return this answer : The element itself, till seven years' heat, Shall not behold her face at ample view; But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk, And water once a day her chamber round Duke. O, she, that hath a heart of that fine frame. SCENE II. The Sea Coast. Enter VIOLA, Captain, and Sailors. Vio. What country, friends, is this? Cap. Illyria, lady. Vio. And what should I do in Illyria? ACT I. SCENE II. TWELFTH NIGHT: OR, WHAT YOU WILL. Cap. It is perchance, that you yourself were saved. Vio. O my poor brother! and so, perchance, may he be. Cap. True, madam: and to comfort you with chance, Assure yourself, after our ship did split, (Courage and hope both teaching him the practice) Vio. For saying so, there's gold: Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope, Whereto thy speech serves for authority, The like of him. Know'st thou this country? Cap. Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and born, Not three hours' travel from this very place. Vio. Who governs here? Cap. As in his name. Vio. Cap. A noble duke, in nature, What is his name? Orsino. SCENE III. A Room in Olivia's House. 65 Enter Sir TOBY BELCH, and MARIA. Sir To. What a plague means my niece, to take the death of her brother thus? I am sure, care's an enemy to life. Mar. By troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier o'nights; your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions to your ill hours. Sir To. Why, let her except before excepted. Mar. Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest limits of order. Sir To. Confine! I'll confine myself no finer than I am these clothes are good enough to drink in, and so be these boots too; an they be not, let them hang themselves in their own straps. Mar. That quaffing and drinking will undo you: I heard my lady talk of it yesterday; and of a foolish knight, that you brought in one night here, to be her wooer. Sir To. Who? Sir Andrew Ague-cheek? Sir To. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria. Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats a year. Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats; he's a very fool, and a prodigal. Sir To. Fye, that you'll say so! he plays o' the Vio. Orsino! I have heard my father name him! viol-de gambo, and speaks three or four languages He was a bachelor then. Vio. O, that I served that lady : And might not be delivered to the world, Till I had made mine own occasion mellow, What my estate is. Cap. That were hard to compass; Because she will admit no kind of suit, No, not the duke's. Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, captain; And though that nature with a beauteous wall Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee I will believe, thou hast a mind that suits Cap. Be you his page, and I your mute will be. [Exeunt. word for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature. Mar. He hath, indeed, - almost natural: for, besides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller ; and but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among the prudent, he would quickly have the gift of a grave. Sir To. By this hand, they are scoundrels, and substractors, that say so of him. Who are they? Mar. They that add moreover, he's drunk nightly in your company. Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece; I'll drink to her, as long as there is a passage in my throat, and drink in Illyria: He's a coward, and a coystril, that will not drink to my niece, till his brains turn o' the toe like a parish-top. comes Sir Andrew Ague-face. Enter Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK. Here Sir And. Sir Toby Belch! how now, Sir Toby Belch? Sir To. Sweet Sir Andrew! Sir And. Bless you, fair shrew. Mar. And you too, sir. Sir To. Accost, sir Andrew, accost. Sir And. What's that? Sir To. My niece's chamber-maid. Sir And. Good mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance. Mar. My name is Mary, sir. Sir And. Good mistress Mary Accost, Sir To. You mistake, knight: accost, is, front her, board her, woo her, assail her. Sir And. Is that the meaning of accost? Sir To. An thou let part so, sir Andrew, 'would thou might'st never draw sword again. Sir And. And you part so, mistress, I would l 1 Keystril, a bastard hawk. F might never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you | he hath known you but three days, and already you think you have fools in hand? Mar. Sir, I have not you by the hand. Sir And. Marry, but you shall have; and here's my hand. Mar. Now, sir, thought is free: I pray you, bring your hand to the buttery-bar, and let it drink. Sir And. Wherefore, sweet heart? what's your metaphor? Mar. Its dry, sir. Sir And. Why, I think so; I am ass, but I can keep my hand dry. your jest? Mar. A dry jest, sir. Sir And. Are you full of them? not such an But what's Mar. Ay, sir; I have them at my fingers' ends. [Exit MARIA. Sir To. O knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary: When did I see thee so put down? Sir And. Never in your life, I think; unless you see canary put me down: Methinks, sometimes I have no more wit than an ordinary man has: but I am a great eater of beef, and, I believe, that does harm to my wit. not? Sir To. Excellent; it hangs like flax on a distaff. Sir And. I'll home to-morrow, sir Toby: your niece will not be seen; or, if she be, it's four to one she'll none of me: the count himself, here hard by, wooes her. Sir To. She'll none o' the count; she'll not match above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; I have heard her swear it. Tut, there's life in't, man. Sir And. I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o' the strangest mind i' the world; I delight in masques and revels sometimes altogether. Sir To. Art thou good at these kick-shaws, knight? Sir And. As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be, under the degree of my betters; and yet I will not compare with an old man. Sir To. What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight? Sir And. I can cut a caper. Sir To. And I can cut the mutton to't. Sir And. Shall we set about some revels? Sir To. What shall we do else? Let me see thee caper: ha! higher: ha, ha! - excellent! [Exeunt. are no stranger. Vio. You either fear his humour, or my negli gence, that you call in question the continuance of his love Is he inconstant, sir, in his favours? Val. No, believe me. Enter Duke, CURIO, and Attendants, Vio. I thank you. Here comes the count. Duke. Who saw Cesario, ho? Vio. On your attendance, my lord; here. - Cesario, Duke. Stand you awhile aloof. Thou know'st no less but all; I have unclasp'd To thee the book even of my secret soul: Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her ; Be not deny'd access, stand at her doors, And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow, Till thou have audience. then? Duke. O, then unfold the passion of my love, It shall become thee well to act my woes; Dear lad, believe it; SCENE V. - A Room in Olivia's House. Enter MARIA, and Clown. Mar. Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will not open my lips, so wide as a bristle may enter, in way of thy excuse: my lady will hang thee for thy absence. Clo. Let her hang me: he, that is well hanged in this world, needs to fear no colours. Mar. Make that good. Clo. He shall see none to fear. Mar. A good lenten 3 answer: I can tell thee where that saying was born, of, I fear no colours. Clo. Where, good mistress Mary? Mar. In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in your foolery. Clo. Well, Heaven give them wisdom, that have it; and those that are fools, let them use their talents. Mar. Yet you will be hanged, for being so long absent or, to be turned away; is not that as good as a hanging to you? Clo. Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage; and, for turning away, let summer bear it out. Mar. You are resolute then? Clo. Not so neither; but I am resolved on two points. Mar. That, if one break, the other will hold. Clo. Apt, in good faith; very apt! Well, go thy way; if sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria. Mar. Peace, you rogue, no more o' that; here comes my lady: make your excuse wisely, you were best. [Exit. Enter OLIVIA, and MALVOLIO. Clo. Wit, and't be thy will, put me into good fooling! Those wits, that think they have thee, do very oft prove fools; and I, that am sure I lack thee, may pass for a wise man: For what says Quinapalus? Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit. · God bless thee, lady! Oli. Take the fool away. Clo. Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady. Oli. Go to, you're a dry fool: I'll no more of you: besides, you grow dishonest. Clo. Two faults, madonna 4, that drink and good counsel will amend: for give the dry fool drink, then is the fool not dry; bid the dishonest man mend himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if he cannot, let the botcher mend him. The lady bade take away the fool; therefore, I say again, take her away. Oli. Sir, I bade them take away you. Oli. What think you of this fool, Malvolio? doth he not mend? Mal. Yes: and shall do, till the pangs of death shake him: Infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever make the better fool. Clo. Heaven send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the better increasing your folly! sir Toby will be sworn, that I am no fox; but he will not pass his word for two-pence that you are no fool. Oli. How say you to that, Malvolio? Mal. I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such a barren rascal; I saw him put down the other day with an ordinary fool, that has no more brain than a stone. Look you now, he's out of his guard already; unless you laugh and minister occasion to him, he is gagged. I protest, I take these wise men, that crow so at these set kind of fools, no better than the fools' zanies.5 Oli. O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste with a distempered appetite. To be generous, guiltless, and of free disposition, is to take those things for bird-bolts 6, that you deem cannon-bullets: There is no slander in an allowed fool, though he do nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known discreet man, though he do nothing but reprove. Clo. Now Mercury endue thee with leasing 7, for thou speakest well of fools. Mar. I know not, madam; 'tis a fair young man and well attended. Oli. Who of my people hold him in delay? Mar. Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman. Oli. Fetch him off, I pray you; he speaks nothing but madman: Fye on him! [Exit MARIA.] Go you, Malvolio; if it be a suit from the count, I am sick, or not at home; what you will, to dismiss it. [Exit MALVOLIO.] Now you see, sir, how your fooling grows old, and people dislike it. Clo. Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy eldest son should be a fool: whose skull Jove cram with brains, for here comes one of thy kin, has a most weak pia mater. 8 Enter Sir TOBY BELCH. Oli. By mine honour, half drunk. at the gate, cousin ? Sir To. A gentleman. - What is he Oli. A gentleman! What gentleman? Sir To. Let him be the devil, an he will, I care not give me faith, say I. Well, it's all one. [Exit. Oli. What's a drunken man like, fool? Clo. Like a drown'd man, a fool, and a madman: one draught above heat makes him a fool; the second mads him; and a third drowns him. Oli. Go thou and seek the coroner, and let him sit o' my coz; for he's in the third degree of drink, he's drown'd go, look after him. Clo. He is but mad yet, madonna; and the fool shall look to the madman. [Exit CLOWN. Re-enter MALVOLIO. Mal. Madam, yond' young fellow swears he will speak with you. I told him you were sick; he takes on him to understand so much, and therefore comes to speak with you: I told him you were asleep; he seems to have a fore-knowledge of that too, and therefore comes to speak with you. What is to be said to him, lady? he's fortified against any denial. Oli. Tell him, he shall not speak with me. Mal. He has been told so; and he says, he'll stand at your door like a sheriff's post, and be the supporter of a bench, but he'll speak with you. Oli. What kind of man is he? Mal. Why, of man kind. Oli. What manner of man? Mal. Of very ill manner; he'll speak with you, will you, or no. Oli. Of what personage, and years, is he? Oli. Let him approach: Call in my gentlewoman. Re-enter MARIA. Oli. Give me my veil: come, throw it o'er my face; We'll once more hear Orsino's embassy. 8 The cover of the brain. |