on, and give him his desire.

Back you shall not so the house, unless you undertake that with me, which with as much safety you might answer him therefore, on, or strip your sword stark naked; for meddle you must, that's certain, or for wear to wear iron about you,

Vio. This is as uncivil, as strange. I beseech you, do me this courteous office, as to know of the knight what my offence to him is; it is something of my negligence, nothing of my purpose. Sir To. I will do so.-Signior Fabian, stay you by this gentleman till my return.

[erit Sir Toby. Vio. Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter? Fab. I know, the knight is incensed against you, even to a mortal arbitrement; but nothing of the circumstance more.

Vio. I beseech you, what manner of man is he? Fab. Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read him by his form, as you are like to find him in the proof of his valour. He is, indeed, sir, the most skilful, bloody, and fatal opposite, that you could possibly have found in any part of Illyria: will you walk towards him? I will make your peace with him, if I can.

Vio. I shall be much bound to you for't: I am one, that would rather go with sir priest, than sir knight: I care not who knows so much of my mettle. [ercunt. Re-enter Sir Toby, with Sir Andrew. Sir To. Why, man, he's a very devil; I have not seen such a virago. I had a pass with him, rapier, scabbard, and all, and he gives me the stuck-in with such a mortal motion, that it is inevitable; and on the answer, he pays you as surely as your feet hit the ground they step on : they say, he has been fencer to the Sophy.

Sir And. Pox on't, I'll not meddle with him. Sir To. Ay, but he will not now be pacified: Fabian can scarce hold him yonder.

Sir And. Plague on't; an I thought he had been valiant, and so cunning in fence, I'd have scen him damned ere I'd have challenged him. Let him let the matter slip, and I'll give him my horse, grey Capilet.

Sir To. I'll make the motion: stand here, make a good show on't; this sball end without the perdition of souls: marry, I'll ride your horse as well as I ride you. [aside.

Re-enter Fabian and Viola. I have his horse [to Fab.] to take up the quarrel; I have persuaded him the youth's a devil. Fab. He is horribly conceited of him; and pants, and looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels. Sir To. There's no remedy, sir; he will fight with you for his oath's sake: marry, he hath better bethought him of this quarrel, and he finds that now to be scarce worth talking of: therefore draw, for the supportance of his vow; he protests, he will not hurt you.

Vio. Pray God defend me! A little thing would make me tell them how much I lack of a man. [aside. Fab. Give ground, if you see him furious. Sir To. Come, Sir Andrew, there's no remedy; the gentleman will, for his honour's sake, have one bout with you: he cannot by the duello avoid it:

Fab. O good Sir Toby, hold; here come the officers.

Sir To. I'll be with you anon. [to Antonin. Vio. Pray, sir, put up your sword, if you please. [to Sir Andreau.

Sir And. Marry, will I, sir ;-And, for that I promised you, I'll be as good as my word: he will bear you easily, and reins well.

1 Off. This is the man; do thy office. 2 Off. Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit Of count Orsino.

Ant. You do mistake me, sir.

[well,

1 Off. No, sir, no jot; I know your favou Though now you have no sea-cap on your head.Take him away; he knows, I know him well.

Ant. I must obey.-This comes with seeking But there's no remedy; I shall answer it. [you; What will you do? Now my necessity Makes me to ask you for my purse: it grieves ine Much more, for what I cannot do for you, Than what befalls myself. You stand amaz'd; But be of comfort.

2 Off. Come, sir, away.

Ant. I must entreat of you some of that money. Vio. What money, sir?

For the fair kindness you have show'd me here,
And part, being prompted by your present trouble,
Out of my lean and low ability

I'll lend you something: my having is not much,
I'll make division of my present with you:
Hold, there is half my coffer.

Ant. Will you deny me now?
Is't possible, that my deserts to you
Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery,
Lest that it makes me so unsound a man,
As to upbraid you with those kindnesses
That I have done for you.

SCENE 1. THE STREET BEFORE OLIVIA'S HOUSE. Enter Sebastian and Clown.

Clo. Will you make me believe, that I am not sent for you?

Seb. Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow; Let me be clear of thee.

Clo. Well held out, i'faith! No, I do not know you; nor I am not sent to you by my lady, to bid you come speak with her: nor your name is not master Cesario; nor this is not my nose neither. -Nothing, that is so, is so.

Seb. I pr'ythee, vent thy folly somewhere else; Thou know'st not me.

Clo. Vent my folly! he has heard that word of some great man, and now applies it to a fool. Vent my folly! I am afraid this great lubber, the world, will prove a cockney.-I pr'ythee now, ungird thy strangeness, and tell me what I shall vent to my lady: shall I vent to her that thou art coming?

Seb. I pr'ythee, foolish Greek, depart from me; There's money for thee; if you tarry longer, I shall give worse payment.

Clo. By my troth, thou hast an open hand :— these wise men, that give fools money, get themselves a good report after fourteen years' purchase. Enter Sir Andrew, Sir Toby, and Fabian. Sir And. Now, sir, have I met you again? there's for you. [striking Sebastian.

Seb. Why, there's for thee, and there, and there: Are all the people mad? [beating Sir Andrew. Sir To. Hold, sir, or I'll throw your dagger

o'er the house.

Clo. This will I tell my lady straight: I would not be in some of your coats for twopence. [er. Clo. Sir To. Come on, sir; hold. [holding Sebastian. Sir And. Nay, let him alone; I'll go another way to work with him; I'll have an action of battery against him, if there be any law in Illyria: though I struck him first, yet it's no matter for Seb. Let go thy hand. [that. Sir To. Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier, put up your iron: you are well fleshed; come on. [thou now? Sco. I will be free from thee. What would'st

Yet living in my glass; even such, and so,
In favour was my brother; and he went,
Still in this fashion, colour, ornament,
For him I imitate: O, if it prove,
Tempests are kind, and salt waves fresh in love!
[exit.

Sir To. A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward than a hare: his dishonesty appears, in leaving his friend here in necessity, and denying him; and for his cowardship, ask Fabian.

Fab. A coward, a most devout coward, religious in it. [him.

Sir And. 'Slid, I'll after him again, and beat Sir To. Do, cuff him soundly, but never draw thy sword.

Sir And. An I do not,-
Fab. Come, let's see the event.

[exit.

Sir To. I dare lay any money, 'twill be nothing yet. [e.rit.

IV.

Oli. Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch, Fit for the mountains, and the barbarous caves, Where manners ne'er were preach'd! out of my Be not offended, dear Cesario :Rudesby be gone !-I pr'ythee, gentle friend,

[sight!

[exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian. Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway In this uncivil and unjust extent Against thy peace. Go with me to my house; And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks This ruffian 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 sleep!
If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!
Oli. Nay, come, I pr'ythee: would thou'dst
Seb. Madam, I will.
[be rul'd by me!
Oli. O, say so, and so be!
[excunt.

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 say, a careful man, and a great scholar. The competitors enter.

Enter Sir Toby Belch and Maria.
Sir To. Jove bless thee, master parson.
Clo. Bonos dies, sir Toby: for as the old her

mit of Prague, that never saw pen and ink, very wittily said to a niece of king Gorboduc, That, that is, is so I, being master parson, am master parson; for what is that, but that? and is, but is? Sir To. To him, Sir Topas.

Clo. What, hoa, I say,- Peace in this prison!
Sir To. The knave counterfeits well; a good

knave.

Mal. [in an inner chamber.] Who calls there? Clo. Sir Topas, the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio, the lunatic. [to my lady.

Mal. Sir Topas, sir Topas, good sir Topas, go Clo. Out, hyperbolical fiend! how vexest thou this man? talkest thou nothing but of ladies?

Sir To. Well said, master parsou.

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 southnorth 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.

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?

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

[wits?

Clo. Alas, sir, how fell you besides 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 fellow. -Who, I, sir? not I, sir. God b'wi'you, good sir Topas.-Marry, amen.—I will, sir, I will. Mal. Fool, fool, fool, I say,

Clo. Alas, sir, be patient. Why 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!

Mal. 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

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 !
Clo. Nay, I am for all waters.

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 Go 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,-
Cis. My lady is unkind, perdy.

and ink.

Mal. Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree I pr'ythee, be gone.

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,

Now go with me, and with this holy mân,
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;

lowers,

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 Olivio and a Priest.

;

According to my birth.-What do you say?

Seb. I'll follow this good man, and go with

you;

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 trappings. 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
Clo. No, sir, the worse.
[friends.
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

fors.

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.

[exeunt.

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: but, as you say, sir, let your bounty take a nap, I will awake it anon. [exit Clown

Enter Antonio and Officers.
Vio. Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue

me.

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, Cry'd fame and honour on him:1 Off Orsino, this is that Antonio, [matter? That took the Phenix, and her fraught, from Candy;

-What's the

And this is he, that did the Tyger 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 side;
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 mer. cies,

Whom thou, in terms so bloody, and so dear,
Hast made thine enemies?
Ant. Orsino, noble sir,

[me;

Antonio never yet was thief, or pirate,
Though, I confess, on base and ground enough,

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 triping measure; or the bells of St. Bennet, sir, may put in mind; one, two, three.

Duke. You can fool no more money out of me et 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.

That most ungrateful boy there, by your side,
From the rude sea's enrag'd and foumy 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,)

Ant. To-day, my lord; and for three months (No interim, not a minute's vacancy,) [before, Both day and night did we keep company. Enter Olivia and Attendants. Duke. Here comes the countess, now heaven walks on earth.[ness: But for thee, fellow, fellow, thy words are madThree months this youth hath tended upon nie; But more of that anon.-' -Take him aside.

Oli. What would my lord, but that he may not have,

Duke. What! to perverseness? you uncivil 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.
[it,
Duke. Why should I not, had I the heart to do
Like to the Egyptian thief, at point of death,
Kill what I love; a savage jealousy,
That sometime savours nobly?-But hear me
Since you to non-regardance cast my faith, [this:
And that I partly know the instrument
That screws me from my true place in your favour,
Live you, the marble-breasted tyrant, still;
But this your minion, whom, I know, you love,
And whom, by heaven, I swear, I tender dearly,
Him will I tear out of that cruel eye,
Where he sits crown'd in his master's spitc.—
Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in
mischief;

I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love,
To spite a ravens heart within a dove.

[going.

Oli. Where goes Cesario? Vio. After him I love, More than I love these eyes, more than my life, More, by all mores, than e'er I shall love wife: If I do feign, you witnesses above, Punish my life, for tainting of my love!

Oli. Ah me, detested! how am I beguil'd! Vio. Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong?

Oli. Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long?Cail forth the holy father. [exit an Attendant. Duke. Come away. [to Viola.

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

Oli. Ay, husband; can he that deny?
Duke. Her husband, sirrah?
Vio. No, my lord, not I.

[stay.

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.-O, 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 past 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
I have travelled but two hours.
[grave,
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 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, ard 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. [you:

Vio. Why do you speak to me? I never hurt 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.

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 tickled you othergates than he did.

Duke. How now, gentlemen? how is't with you? Sir To. That's all one; he has hurt me, and there's the end on't-Sot, dids't see Dick surgeon, sot?

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