Then say, if they be true:-This misshapen knave,
His mother was a witch; and one so strong
That could control the moon, make flows an
ebbs,

And deal in her command, without her power:
These three have robb'd me; and this demi-devil
(For he's a bastard one,) had plotted with them
To take my life; two of these fellows you
Must know, and own; this thing of darkness I
Acknowledge mine.

Cal. I shall be pinch'd to death.

For this one night; which (part of it,) I'll waste
With such discourse, as, I not doubt, shall make j'
Go quick away: the story of my life,
And the particular accidents, gone by,
Since I came to this isle: And in the morn,
Pil bring you to your ship, and so to Naples,
Where I have hope to see the nuptial
Of these our dear-beloved solemniz'd;
And thence retire me to my Milan, where
Every third thought shall be my grave.
Alon. I long

Alon. Is not this Stephano, my drunken but-To hear the story of your life, which must

ler!

Seb. He is drunk now: Where had he wine?

Take the ear strangely.
Pro. I'll deliver all;

Alon. And Trinculo is reeling ripe? Where And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales, should they And sail so expeditious, that shall catch

Find this grand liquor that hath gilded them?-four royal fleet far off.-My Ariel ;—chick,-How cam'st thou in this pickle? That is thy charge; then to the elements Be free, and fare thou well!-[Aside.] Please you, draw near. [Exeunt.

Trin. I have been in such a pickle, since I saw you last, that, I fear me, will never out of my bones: I shall not fear fly-blowing.

Seb. Why, how now, Stephano?

Ste. O touch me not; I am not Stephano,
but a cramp.

Pro. You'd be king of the isle, sirrah?
Ste. I should have been a sore one then.
Alon. This is as strange a thing as e'er I
[Pointing to CALIBAN.

look'd on.

Pro. He is as disproportion'd in his manners,
As in shape:-Go, sirrah, to my cell;
Take with you your companions; as you look
To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.

Cal. Ay, that I will; and I'll be wise here

after,

And seek for grace: What a thrice-double ass

Was I, to take this drunkard for a god,

And worship this dull fool?

Pro. Go to; away!

Alon. Hence, and bestow your luggage where

you found it.

Seb. Or stole it, rather.

[Exeunt CAL. STE. and TRIN.
Pro. Sir, I invite your highness, and your
train,
To my poor cell

where you shall take your rest
⚫ llonest.

EPILOGUE.

SPOKEN BY PROSPERO.

Now my charms are all o'erthrown,
And what strength I have's mine own:
Which is most faint: now, 'tis true,
I must be bere confin'd by you,
Or sent to Naples: Let me not,
Since I have my dukedom got,
And pardou'd the deceiver, dwell
In this bare island, by your spell;
But release me from iny bands,
With the help of your good bands.
Gentle breath of your's my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please: Now I want
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant;
And my ending is despair,

Unless I be reliev'd by prayer:
Which pierces so that it assaults
Mercy itself, and frees all faults.
As you from crimes would pardon'd be,
Let your indulgence set me free.

Applause: noise was supposed to dissolve a spell

THE

TWELFTH NIGHT:

OR,

WHAT YOU WILL.

LITERARY AND HISTORICAL NOTICE.

THE lighter seenes of this entertaining comedy are entirely the production of Shakspeare; and for its more serious portious he was probably indebted to the Histories Tragiques of Belleforest, who had then frosa Bandello. Malone quotes the "Fifth Egtog of Barnaby Googe,” published with other poems of his in 1563, and now an exceedingly rare book, to show that Shakspeare might have borrowed from it the circumstances of the Duke sending his page to plead his cause with the lady, and of the lady's falling in love with the page. This play (says Dr. Johnson,) is in the graver part elegant and easy, and in some of the lighter scenes exquisitely humourous." Its progress is full of spirit, and the entanglement of characters and circumstances is pleasingly unravelled in the final catastrophe. The self-sufficiency of Malvolio is charmingly depicted, and very laughably punished; whilst the excesses of Sir Toby Belch are almost excused by his smattering of wit, and his unqualified good-humour. The sudden attachment of Viola is much more improbable than the obstinate repugnance of Olivia: but the romantic nature of her love," feeding in concealment on ber damask cheek," gives an interest to her situation, whilst a victim to the tender passion, which the undisguised declarations of the other, though placed in the same predicament, must generally fail to producing.

A Sea-captain, Friend to Viola.

MALVOLIO, Steward to Olivia.
FABIAN, Servants to Olivia.
CLOWN,

OLIVIA, a rich Countess.

VIOLA, in love with the Duke.

VALENTINE, Gentlemen attending on the | MARIA, Olivia's Woman.
CURIO,

Duke.

Sir TOBY BELCH, Uncle of Olivia.
Sir ANDREW AGUE CHEEK.

Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians, and other Attendants.

SCENE-A City in Illyria; and Sea-coast near it.

ACT I.

SCENE 1.-An Apartment in the DUKE'S

Palace.

Enter DUKE, CURIO, LORDS; Musicians

attending.

Even in a minute! So full of shapes is fancy,
That it alone is bigh-fantastical.

Cur. Will you go bunt, my lord ?

Duke. What, Curio?

Cur. The hart.

Duke. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have: Oh when mine eyes did see Olivia first,

Duke. If music be the food of love, play on; Methought she purg'd the air of pestilence;

Give me excess of it; that, sufeiting,

The appetite may sicken, and so die.
That strain again;-it had a dying fall:
Oh! it came o'er my ear like the sweet south,
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing, and giving odour.--Enough; no more;
'Tis not so sweet now, as it was before.

O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou !

That notwithstanding thy capacity

Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,

Of what validity and pitch soever,

But falls into abatement and low price,

• Value.

And water once a day her chamber round
With eye-offending brine: all this, to season
A brother's dead love, which she would keep
fresh,

And lasting, in her sad remembrance.

With this thy fair and outward character.
I pray thee, and I'll pay thee bounteously,
Conceal me what I am; and be my aid
For such disguise as, haply, shall become
The form of my intent. I'll serve this duke;

Duke. O she, that hath a heart of that fine Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him,

SCENE 11.-The Sea Coast.
Enter VIOLA, CAPTAIN, and Sailors.
Vio. What country, friends, is this?
L'ap. Illyria, lady.

Vio. And what should I do in Illyria?
My brother he is in Elysium.
Perchance, he is not drown'd:-What think you,
sailors ?

Cap. It is perchance, that you yourself were
saved.

Vio. O my poor brother! and so, perchance, my he be.

Cap. True, madam: and, to comfort you with
chance,

Assure yourself, after our ship did split,
When you, and that poor number saved with
you,

It may be worth thy pains; for I can sing,
And speak to him in many sorts of music,
That will allow me very worth his service.
What else inay hap, to time I will commit;
Only shape thou thy silence to my wit.

Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute l'i
be:

When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see!

Vio. I thank thee: Lead me on.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III-A Room in OLIVIA's House.

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 contine 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 prac-bere, to be her wooer.

Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother,
Most provident in peril, bind himself
(Courage and hope both teaching him the
tice)

To a strong mast, that lived upon the sea ;
Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back,
I saw him bold acquaintance with the waves,
So long as I could see.

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. A noble duke, in nature,

As in his name.

Vio. What is his name?

Cap. Orsino.

Sir To. Who? Sir Andrew Ague-cheek!
Mar. Ay, he.

Sir To. He's as tall a man as any's in
Illyria.

Mar. What's that to the purpose?

Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats a year.

Mar. Aye, 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 viol-de-gambo, and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature.

Mar. He bath, indeed,-almost natura!: for, besides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller; aud, but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought

Vio. Orsino! I have heard my father name among the prudent, he would quickly have the

him :

gift of a grave.

Sir To. By this band, 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. What, wench? Castiliano vulgo; for bere comes Si Andrew Ague-face.

Enter Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK.
Sir And. Sir Toby Belch how now,
Beich?

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 Toby

It was customary in every village to keep a large : for the peasants to whip in cold weather.