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 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.
VIOLA. And I, most
jocund, apt, and willingly,
To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.
OLIVIA. Where goes Cesario?
VIOLA. 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!
OLIVIA. Ay me, detested! How am I beguil'd!
VIOLA. Who does
beguile you? Who does do you wrong?
OLIVIA. Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long?
Call forth the holy father. Exit an ATTENDANT
DUKE. Come, away!
OLIVIA. Whither, my lord? Cesario, husband, stay.
DUKE. Husband?
OLIVIA. Ay, husband; can he that deny?
DUKE. Her husband, sirrah?
VIOLA. No, my lord, not I.
OLIVIA. 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.
Enter PRIEST
O,
welcome, father!
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,
Strength'ned 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.
VIOLA. My lord, I do protest-
OLIVIA. O, do not swear!
Hold little faith, though thou has too much fear.
Enter SIR ANDREW
AGUECHEEK. For the love of God, a
surgeon!
Send one
presently to Sir Toby.
OLIVIA. What's the matter?
AGUECHEEK. Has broke my head across, and 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.
OLIVIA. Who has done this, Sir Andrew?
AGUECHEEK. The Count's gentleman, one Cesario. We took him for a
coward, but he's the very devil incardinate.
DUKE. My gentleman, Cesario?
AGUECHEEK. Od's lifelings, here he is! You broke my head for
nothing; and that that did, I was set on to do't by Sir Toby.
VIOLA. 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.
Enter SIR TOBY and CLOWN
AGUECHEEK. If a
bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me; I think
you set nothing by a
bloody coxcomb. Here comes Sir Toby halting;
you shall hear more; but if he had not been in drink, he would
have tickl'd you othergates than he did.
DUKE. How now, gentleman? How is't with you?
SIR TOBY. That's all one; has hurt me, and there's th' end on't.
Sot, didst see Dick Surgeon, sot?
CLOWN. O, he's drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyes were set at
eight i' th' morning.
SIR TOBY. Then he's a rogue and a passy measures pavin. I hate a
drunken rogue.
OLIVIA. Away with him. Who hath made this havoc with them?
AGUECHEEK. I'll help you, Sir Toby, because we'll be dress'd
together.
SIR TOBY. Will you help- an ass-head and a coxcomb and a knave, a
thin fac'd knave, a gull?
OLIVIA. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to.
Exeunt CLOWN, FABIAN, SIR TOBY, and SIR ANDREW
Enter SEBASTIAN
SEBASTIAN. 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.
SEBASTIAN. Antonio, O my dear Antonio!
How have the hours rack'd and tortur'd me
Since I have lost thee!
ANTONIO. Sebastian are you?
SEBASTIAN. Fear'st thou that, Antonio?
ANTONIO. How have you made division of yourself?
An apple cleft in two is not more twin
Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian?
OLIVIA. Most wonderful!
SEBASTIAN. Do I stand there? I never had a brother;
Nor can there be that deity in my nature
Of here and everywhere. I had a sister
Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd.
Of
charity, what kin are you to me?
What
countryman, what name, what parentage?
VIOLA. 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.
SEBASTIAN. 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!'
VIOLA. My father had a mole upon his brow.
SEBASTIAN. And so had mine.
VIOLA. And died that day when Viola from her birth
Had numb'red thirteen years.
SEBASTIAN. O, that record is
lively in my soul!
He finished indeed his
mortal act
That day that made my sister thirteen years.
VIOLA. 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.
SEBASTIAN. [To OLIVIA] So Comes it, lady, you have been mistook;
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.
[To VIOLA] Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times
Thou never shouldst love woman like to me.
VIOLA. And all those sayings will I overswear;
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.
VIOLA. 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.
OLIVIA. 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, and FABIAN
A most extracting
frenzy of mine own
From my
remembrance clearly banish'd his.
How does he, sirrah?
CLOWN. Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the stave's end as well
as a man in his case may do. Has here writ a letter to you; I
should have given 't you to-day morning, but as a madman's
epistles are no gospels, so it skills not much when they are
deliver'd.
OLIVIA. Open't, and read it.
CLOWN. Look then to be well edified when the fool delivers the
madman. [Reads madly ] 'By the Lord, madam-'
OLIVIA. How now! Art thou mad?
CLOWN. No, madam, I do but read
madness. An your ladyship will have
it as it ought to be, you must allow vox.
OLIVIA. Prithee read i' thy right wits.
CLOWN. So I do,
madonna; but to read his right wits is to read
thus;
therefore perpend, my Princess, and give ear.
OLIVIA. [To FABIAN] Read it you, sirrah.
FABIAN. [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-US'D MALVOLIO'
OLIVIA. Did he write this?
CLOWN. Ay, Madam.
DUKE. This savours not much of distraction.
OLIVIA. See him deliver'd, Fabian; bring him hither.
Exit FABIAN