Be not offended, dear Cesario :

Radesby be gone! I pr'ythee, gentle friend,

[Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian. Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway la this uncivil and unjust extent +

Against thy peace. Go with me to my house;
And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks
This ruthian hath botch'd up, that thou thereby
May'st smile at this: thou shalt not choose but go;
Do not deny: beshrew his soul for me,
He started one poor heart of mine in thee.

Seb. What relish is in this? How runs the stream?
Or I am mad, or else this is a dream:-
Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;

If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!

Oli. Nay, come, I pr'ythee; 'would, thou'dst be ruled by me!

Seb. Madam, I will.

Oli. O say so, and so be!

[Exeunt.

SCENE II-A Room in OLIVIA'S House.

Enter MARIA and CLOWN.

Mar. Nay, I pr'ythee, put on this gown, and this beard; make him believe, thou art Sir Topas the curate; do it quickly: I'll call Sir Toby the whilst. [Exit Maria.

Clo. Well, I'll put it on, and I will dissemble myself in't; and I would I were the first that ever dissembled in such a gown. I am not fat enough to become the function well; nor lean enough to be thought a good student; but to be said, an honest man, and a good housekeeper, goes as fairly, as to ay, a careful man, and a great scholar. The competitors enter.

Folio the lunatic.

Mel. Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to my lady.

Cle. 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 wrong'd; ood Sir Topas, do not think I am mad; they have

aid me here in hideous darkness.

Clo. Fye, thou dishonest Sathan! I call thee by the most modest terms; for I am one of those gentle mes, 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 southSorth are as lustrous as ebony; and yet complainest thon of obstruction?

Mel. I am not mad, Sir Topas; I say to you, this house is dark.

Clo. Madman, thou errest: I say, there is no darkess, 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 conRant question. #

Cla. What is the opinion of Pythagoras, concern#g wild-fowl?

Mal. That the soul of our grandam might haply ababit a bird.

(le. What thinkest thou of his opinion? Mal. I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his opinion.

Co. Fare thee well: remain thou still in dark: thou shalt hold the opinion of Pythagoras, ere I will allow of thy wits; and fear to kill a wood

cock, lest thou dispossess the soul of thy grandam. Fare thee well.

Mal. Sir Topas, Sir Topas,

Sir To. My most exquisite Sir Topas!
Clo. Nay, I am for all waters.

Mal. 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 find'st him: I would, we were well rid of this knavery. If he may be conveniently deliver'd, 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.

Mal. Fool,

Clo. My lady is unkind, perdy. Mal. Fool,

Clo. Alas, why is she so?

Mal. Fool, I say ;

Clo. She loves another-Who calls, ha?

[Singing.

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 gentleman, I will live to be thankful to thee for't.

Clo. Master Malvolio!
Mal. Ay, good fool,

Clo. Alas, Sir, how fell you besides

wits?t

your five

Mal. Fool, there was never man so notoriously abused: I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art. Clo. But as well? Then you are mad, indeed, if you be no better in your wits than a fool. Mal. They have here propertied me; keep me in darkness, send ministers to me, asses, and do all they can to face me out of my wits.

Clo. Advise you what you say; the minister is here.-Malvolio, Malvolio, thy wits the heavens restore! Endeavour thyself to sleep, and leave thy vain bibble babble.

Mal. Sir Topas,

Clo. Maintain no words with him, good fellowWho, I, Sir? not I, Sir. God b'wi'you, good Sir Tops.-Marry, amen.-I will, Sir, I will.

Mal. Fool, fool, fool, I say,

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!

Mat. By this hand, I am: good fool, some ink, paper, and light, and convey what I will set down to my lady; it shall advantage thee more than ever the bearing 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.

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: Yet there he was: and there I found this credit, ** That he did range the town to seek me out.

Any other gem as a topaz. + Senses. 1 Taken possession of. Scolded, reprimanded. A buffoon character in the old plays, and father of the modern harlequin. Account.

His counsel now might do me golden service:
For though my soul disputes well with my sense,
That this may be some error, but no madness,
Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune
So far exceed all instance, all discourse,⚫
That I am ready to distrust mine eyes,

And wrangle with my reason, that persuades me
To any other trust, + but that I am mad,
Or else the lady's mad; yet, if 'twere so,

She could not sway her house, command her followers,

Take, and give back, affairs, and their despatch,
With such a smooth, discreet, and stable bearing,
As I perceive, she does: there's something in't,
That is deceivable. But here comes the lady.
Enter OLIVIA and a PRIEST.

Oli. Blame not this haste of mine: if
well,

you mean

Now go with me, and with this holy man,
Into the chantry by: there, before him,
And underneath that consecrated roof,
Plight me the full assurance of your faith;
That my most jealous and too doubtful soul
May live at peace: he shall conceal it,
Whiles you are willing it shall come to note;
What time we will our celebration keep
According to my birth.-What do you say?

Seb. I'll follow this good man, and go with you; And having sworn truth, ever will be true. Oli. Then lead the way, good father;-and heavens so shine,

That they may fairly note this act of mine! [Exeunt.

Clo. Do not desire to see this letter.

Fab. That is, to give a dog, and, in recompense, desire my dog again.

Enter DUKE, VIOLA, and Attendants. Duke. Belong you to the lady Olivia, friends? Clo. Ay, Sir; we are some of her trappins. Duke. I know thee well: How dost thou, my good fellow?

Clo. Truly, Sir, the better for my foes, and the worse for my friends.

Duke. Just the contrary; the better for thy friends.

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 my self; 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, Sir, I would you could make it another.

Duke. O, you give me ill counsel.

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. Duke. You can fool no more money out of 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 I come again. I go, Sir; but I would not have you to think, that my desire of having is the sin of covetousness: + Belief. ↑ Servants. Until.

• Reason. § Little chapel.

but, as you say, let your bounty take a nap, I w awake it anon. [Exit Clow

Enter ANTONIO and OFFicers.

Vio. Here comes the man, Sir, that did rescue m Duke. That face of his I do remember well; Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmear'd As black as Vulcan, in the smoke of war: A bawbling vessel was he captain of, For shallow draught, and bulk, unprizable; With which such scathful grapple did he make With the most noble bottom of our fleet, That very envy, and the tongue of loss, Cried fame and honour on him.-What's the matte 1 Off. Orsino, this is that Antonio, That took the Phoenix, and her fraught, from Cand And this is he, that did the Tiger board, When your young nephew Titus lost his leg: Here in the streets, desperate of shame and state, In private brabble did we apprehend him.

Vio. He did me kindness, Sir; drew on my sid But in conclusion, put strange speech upon me, I know not what 'twas, but distraction.

Duke. Notable pirate! Thou salt-water thief! What foolish boldness brought thee to their merci Whom thou, in terms so bloody, and so dear, Hast made thine enemies?

Ant. Orsino, noble Sir,

Be pleased that I shake off these names you give m
Antonio never yet was thief, or pirate,
Though, I confess, on base and ground enough,
Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither:
That most ungrateful boy there, by your side,
From the rude sea's enraged and foamy mouth
Did I redeem; a wreck past hope he was:
His life I gave him, and did thereto add
My love, without retention, or restraint,
All his in dedication: for his sake,
Did I expose myself, pure for his love,
Into the danger of this adverse town;
Drew to defend him, when he was beset:
Where being apprehended, his false cunning,
(Not meaning to partake with me in danger,)
Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,
And grew a twenty-years-removed thing.
While one would wink; denied me mine own purs
Which I had recommended to his use
Not half an hour before.

Vio. How can this be?

Duke. When came he to this town?

Ant. To-day, my lord; and for three mont before,

(No interim, not a minute's vacancy,)
Both day and night did we keep company.)

Enter OLIVA and Attendants.

Duke. Here comes the countess; now heart walks on earth.

But for thee, fellow, fellow, thy words are madnes Three months this youth hath tended upon me; But more of that anon.-Take him aside.

Oli. What would my lord, but that he may n

have,

Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?—
Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.
Vio. Madam?

Duke. Gracious Olivia,

Oli. What do you say, Cesario ?-Good, 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 fulsoine 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 breathed out
That e'er devotion tender'd! What shall I do?
Oli. Even what it please my lord, that shall b

come him.

And whom, by heaven I swear I tender dearly,

Tim will I tear out of that cruel eye,

Where he sits crowned in his master's spite.

Sir To. Then he's a rogue. After a passy measure or a pavin, I hate a drunken rogue.

Oli. Away with him: Who hath made this havock

[Going.

Fis. And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly, To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.

Oli. Where goes Cesario?
Fie. After him I love,

[Following.

More than I love these eyes, more than my life,
More, by all mores, than e'er I shall love wife:
Ifido feign, you witnesses above,

Panish my life, for tainting of my love!

Oli. Ah me, detested! How am I beguiled! Fis. Who does beguile you? Who does do you wrong ?

Oli. Hast thou forgot thyself? Is i 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? 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.--0, welcome, father!

Re-enter ATTENDANT and PRIEST.

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 compact
Seal'd in my function, by my testimony:

Since when, my watch hath told me toward my grave have travell'd but two hours.

Duke. O, thou dissembling cub! What wilt thou be, Then 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. Vie. My lord, I do protest,

Oli. O, do not swear;

Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear. Eater 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 giren 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 en to do't by Sir Toby.

Fie. 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

excomb.

Enter Sir TOBY BELCH, drunk, led by the CLOWN. Here comes Sir Toby halting, you shall hear more: but if he had not been in drink, he would have tekled you othergates than he did.

Duke. How now, gentleman? How is't with you? Sir To. That's all one; he 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. •Disown thy property. + Skin.

✰ Otherways.

Sir And. I'll help you, Sir Toby, because we'll be dress'd 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, Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew. Enter SEBASTIAN.

Seb. I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kinsBut, had it been the brother of my blood, [man; 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 tortured 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.

Oli. Most wonderful!

Which is Sebastian?

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? [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.

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.

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 preserved, 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 :
[To Olivia.

But nature to her bias drew in that.
You would have been contracted to a maid;
Nor are you therein, by my life, deceived,
You are betroth'd both to a maid and man.
Duke. Be not amazed; 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,

[To Viola.

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 orbed continent the fire
That severs day from night.

Duke. Give me thy hand;
And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds.
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 gentieman, and follower of my lady's.
Oli. He shall enlarge him :-Fetch Malvolio

hither:

• Serious dancers. + Out of charity tell me. + Hinders.

K

And yet, alas, now I remember me,
They say, poor gentleman, he's much distract.

Re-enter CLOWN, with a Letter.

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

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 madman's epistles are no gospels, so it skills not much, when they are deliver'd.

Oli. Open it, and read it.

Clo. Look then to be well edified, when the fool delivers the madman.-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 vor.

Oli. Pr'ythee, 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. 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 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.
Duke. Madam, I am most apt to embrace your of
fer.-

Your master quits you; [To Viola.] and, for your service done him,

So much against the mettle of your sex,
So far beneath your soft and tender breeding,
And since you call'd me master for so long,
Here is my hand; you shall from this time be
Your master's mistress.

Oli. A sister-You are she.

Re-enter FABIAN, with MALVOLIO.

Duke. Is this the madman?

Oli. Ay, my lord, this same :

How now, Malvolio?

Mal. Madam, you have done me wrong, Notorious wrong.

Oli. Have I, Malvolio? No.

Mal. Lady, you have. Pray you, peruse that letter:

You must not now deny it is your hand,
Write from it, if you can, in hand, or phrase;
Or say, 'tis not your seal, nor your invention:
You can say none of this: well, grant it then
And tell me, in the modesty of honour,

Why you have given me such clear lights of favour:
Bade me come smiling, and cross-garter'd to you,
To put on yellow stockings, and to frown
Upon Sir Toby, and the lighters people:

And, acting this in an obedient hope,

Why have you suffer'd me to be imprison'd,
Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest,

And made the most notorions geek, and gull,
That e'er invention play'd on? Tell me why.
Oli. Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing,
Though, I confess, much like the character,
But, out of question, 'tis Maria's hand.
And now I do bethink me, it was she

First told me, thou wast mad: then cam'st in smil ing,

And in such forms which here were presupposed
Upon thee in the letter. Prythee, be content:
This practice hath most shrewdly pass'd upon thee;
But, when we know the grounds and authors of it,
Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge
Of thine own cause.

Fab. Good madam, hear me speak;
And let no quarrel, nor no brawl to come,
Taint the condition of this present hour,
Which I have wonder'd at. In hope it shall not,
Most freely I confess, myself, and Toby,
Set this device against Malvolio here,
Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts
We had conceived against him: Maria writ
The letter, at Sir Toby's great importance +;
In recompence whereof, he hath married her.
How with a sportful malice it was follow'd,
May rather pluck on laughter than revenge:
If that the injuries be justly weigh'd,
That have on both sides pass'd.

Oli. Alas, poor fool! how have they baffled; thee!

Clo. Why, some are born great, some atchieve greatness, and some have greatness thrown upon 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 re

venges.

Mal. I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you.

(Exit.

Oli. He hath been most notoriously abused." Duke. Pursue him, and entreat him to peace :He hath not told us of the captain yet; When that is known, and golden time convents, A solemn combination shall be made Of our dear souls-Mean time, sweet sister, We will not part from hence-Cesario, come; For so you shall be, while you are a man; But, when in other habits you are seen, Orsino's mistress, and his fancy's queen.

SONG.

[Exeunt.

Clo. When that I was and a little tiny boy,
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 wire,

With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
By swaggering could I never thrive,
For the rain it raineth every day.

But when I came unto my bed,

With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
With toss-pots still had drunken head,
For the rain it raineth every day.

A great while ago the world begun,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
But that's all one, our play is done,
And we'll strive to please you every day.
[Exit