Prove true, imagination, O, prove true,
That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you!
Sir To. Come hither knight; come hither,
Fabian; we'll whisper o'er a couplet or two of
most sage saws.

Vio. He nam'd Sebastian; I my brother know
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.

Sir And. 'Slid, I'll after him again, and beat

him.

SCENE I.-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, ventt thy folly somewhere Thou know'st not me. [else;

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 prythee 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 two-pence. [Exit CLOWN. 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 Il

lyria: though I struck him first, yet it's no matter for that.

Seb. Let go thy hand.

Sir To. Come, Sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier, put up your iron: you are well fleshed; come on.

Seb. I will be free from thee. What would'st thou now?

If thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword. [Draws. Sir To. What, what? Nay, then I must have an ounce or two of this malapert blood from you. [Draws. Enter OLIVIA.

Oli. Hold, Toby; on thy life, I charge thee, hold.

Sir To. Madam?

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 sight!

Be not offended, dear Cesario:-
Rudesby, be gone!-I pr'ythee, gentle friend,
[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

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 hermit 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.

↑ Made up. 1 Confederates.

F

Clo. 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 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 south-north 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? Mal. I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his opinion.

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 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. [Singing.

Mul. 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? 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 your five

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, ameu.-I will, Sir, Í

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!

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 his brains. I will fetch you light, and paper, and ink.

Mal. Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree: I pr'ythee, begone. I am gone, Sir,

Clo.

And anon, Sir,
I'll be with you again,
In a trice;

Like to the old vice,†
Your need to sustain;
Who with dagger of lath,
In his rage and his wrath,
Cries, ah, ha! to the devil:
Like a mad lad,
Pare thy nails, dad,

Adieu, goodman drivel.

SCENE III.-OLIVIA'S Garden.

Enter SEBASTIAN.

[Exit.

sense,

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 my 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 fulsome 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 breath'd out,

That e'er devotion tender'd! What shall I do? Oli. Even what it please my lord, that shall become him.

Duke. Why should I not, had I the heart to do it,

Like to the Egyptian thief, at point of death,
Kill what I love; a savage jealousy, [this:
That sometime savours nobly?-But hear me
Since you to non-regardance cast my faith,
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,
[dearly,
And whom, by heaven, I swear, I tender
Him will I tear out of that cruel eye,
Where he sits crowned in his master's spite.
Come boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in

mischief:

I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love,
To spite a raven's heart within a dove. [Going.
Vio. And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly.
To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.
[Following.

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!-Call forth the holy father.

[Exit an Attendant. Duke. Come away. [To VIOLA. Oli. Whither my lord?-Cesario, husband, stay.

Duke. Husband?

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,

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;

[fear.

Hold little faith, though thou hast too much

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, and has given Sir Toby a bloody coxcomb too: for forty pounds, I were at home. the love of God, your help: I had rather than

Oli. Who has done this, Sir Andrew?

rio: we took him for a coward, but he's the Sir And. The count's gentleman, one Cesavery devil incardinate.

Duke. My gentleman, Cesario!

broke my head for nothing; and that that I Sir And. Od's lifelings here he is :-You 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.

Here comes Sir Toby halting, you shall hear more but if he had not been in drink, he would have tickled you othergatest than he did.

you?

Duke. How now, gentleman? how is't with Sir To. That's all one; he has hurt me, and there's the end on't.-Sot, did'st 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. After a passymeasure, or a 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 dress'd together.

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

to.

Oli. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd [Exeunt CLOWN, 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 de-
vour'd:-

Of charity, what kin are you to me?
[TO VIOLA.
What countryman? what name? what paren-
tage?

Vie. 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 preserv'd, 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 mis-
took:
[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, deceiv'd,
You are betroth'd both to a maid and man.
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,
[TO VIOLA.

Thou never should'st love woman like to me.
Vio. And all those sayings will I over-

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 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.

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 delivered.

Oli. Open it, and read it.

Clo. Look then to be well edified, when the fool delivers the madman :-By the lord, mud

am,

Óli. 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.

[To FABIAN.

Oli. Read it you, sirrah. 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 [Exit FABIAN.

hither. 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 offer.

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?