[Enter SEBASTIAN and CLOWN.] CLOWN Will you make me believe that I am not sent for you?
SEBASTIAN Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow;
Let me be clear of thee.
CLOWN 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.
SEBASTIAN I pr'ythee vent thy folly somewhere else. Thou know'st not me.
CLOWN 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?
SEBASTIAN I pr'ythee, foolish Greek, depart from me;
There's money for thee; if you tarry longer
I shall give worse payment.
CLOWN 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 ANDREW Now, sir, have I met you again? there's for you.
[Striking SEBASTIAN.] SEBASTIAN Why, there's for thee, and there, and there.
Are all the people mad?
[Beating SIR ANDREW.] SIR TOBY Hold, sir, or I'll throw your dagger o'er the house.
CLOWN This will I tell my lady straight. I would not be in some of
your coats for twopence.
[Exit CLOWN.] SIR TOBY Come on, sir; hold.
[Holding SEBASTIAN.] SIR ANDREW 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
that.
SEBASTIAN Let go thy hand.
SIR TOBY Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier,
put up your iron: you are well fleshed; come on.
SEBASTIAN I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou now?
If thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword.
[Draws.] SIR TOBY What, what? Nay, then I must have an ounce or two of this
malapert blood from you.
[Draws.] [Enter OLIVIA.] OLIVIA Hold, Toby; on thy life, I charge thee hold.
SIR TOBY Madam?
OLIVIA 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
Mayst 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.
SEBASTIAN 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!
OLIVIA Nay, come, I pr'ythee. Would thou'dst be ruled by me!
SEBASTIAN Madam, I will.
OLIVIA O, say so, and so be!
[Exeunt.]