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Twelfth Night
act v   Scene I. The Street before OLIVIA's House.
William Shakespeare
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       [Enter CLOWN and FABIAN.]
       FABIAN
       Now, as thou lovest me, let me see his letter.
       CLOWN
       Good Master Fabian, grant me another request.
       FABIAN
       Anything.
       CLOWN
       Do not desire to see this letter.
       FABIAN
       This 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?
       CLOWN
       Ay, sir; we are some of her trappings.
       DUKE
       I know thee well. How dost thou, my good fellow?
       CLOWN
       Truly, sir, the better for my foes and the worse for my friends.
       DUKE
       Just the contrary; the better for thy friends.
       CLOWN
       No, sir, the worse.
       DUKE
       How can that be?
       CLOWN
       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 foes.
       DUKE
       Why, this is excellent.
       CLOWN
       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.
       CLOWN
       But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I would you could
       make it another.
       DUKE
       O, you give me ill counsel.
       CLOWN
       Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this once, and let
       your flesh and blood obey it.
       DUKE
       Well, I will be so much a sinner to be a double-dealer: there's
       another.
       CLOWN
       Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play; and the old saying
       is, the third pays for all; the triplex, sir, is a good tripping
       measure; or the bells of Saint Bennet, sir, may put you in mind;
       one, two, three.
       DUKE
       You can fool no more money out of me at 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.
       CLOWN
       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.]
       VIOLA
       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 besmeared
       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 los
       Cried fame and honour on him.--What's the matter?
       FIRST OFFICER
       Orsino, this is that Antonio
       That took the Phoenix and her fraught from Candy:
       And this is he that did the Tiger 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.
       VIOLA
       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 mercies,
       Whom thou, in terms so bloody and so dear,
       Hast made thine enemies?
       ANTONIO
       Orsino, noble sir,
       Be pleased that I shake off these names you give me:
       Antonio never yet was thief or pirate,
       Though, I confess, on base and ground enough,
       Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither:
       That most ingrateful boy there, by your side
       From the rude sea's enraged and foamy 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,--
       Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,
       And grew a twenty-years-removed thing
       While one would wink; denied me mine own purse,
       Which I had recommended to his use
       Not half an hour before.
       VIOLA
       How can this be?
       DUKE
       When came he to this town?
       ANTONIO
       To-day, my lord; and for three months before,--
       No interim, not a minute's vacancy,--
       Both day and night did we keep company.
       [Enter OLIVIA and Attendants.]
       DUKE
       Here comes the countess; now heaven walks on earth.--
       But for thee, fellow, fellow, thy words are madness:
       Three months this youth hath tended upon me;
       But more of that anon.--Take him aside.
       OLIVIA
       What would my lord, but that he may not have,
       Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable!--
       Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.
       VIOLA
       Madam?
       DUKE
       Gracious Olivia,--
       OLIVIA
       What do you say, Cesario?--Good my lord,--
       VIOLA
       My lord would speak, my duty hushes me.
       OLIVIA
       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?
       OLIVIA
       Still so constant, lord.
       DUKE
       What! to perverseness? you uncivil lady,
       To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars
       My soul the faithfull'st offerings hath breathed out
       That e'er devotion tender'd! What shall I do?
       OLIVIA
       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
       That sometime savours nobly.--But hear me this:
       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,
       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 sprite.--
       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.]
       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
       Ah 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
       [To Viola.] 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--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 passed between this youth and me.
       PRIEST
       A contract of eternal bond of love,
       Confirmed 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
       Sealed in my function, by my testimony:
       Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave,
       I have travelled but two hours.
       DUKE
       O thou dissembling cub! What wilt thou be,
       When time hath sowed 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 AGUE-CHEEK, with his head broke.]
       SIR ANDREW
       For the love of God, a surgeon; send one presently to Sir Toby.
       OLIVIA
       What's the matter?
       SIR ANDREW
       He 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?
       SIR ANDREW
       The Count's gentleman, one Cesario: we took him for a
       coward, but he's the very devil incardinate.
       DUKE
       My gentleman, Cesario?
       SIR ANDREW
       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.
       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.
       SIR ANDREW
       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, gentleman? how is't with you?
       SIR TOBY
       That's all one; he has hurt me, and there's the 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' the morning.
       SIR TOBY
       Then he's a rogue. After a passy-measure, or a pavin, I hate a
       drunken rogue.
       OLIVIA
       Away with him. Who hath made this havoc with them?
       SIR ANDREW
       I'll help you, Sir Toby, because we'll be dressed together.
       SIR TOBY
       Will you help an ass-head, and a coxcomb, and a knave? a
       thin-faced knave, a gull?
       OLIVIA
       Get him to bed, and let his hurt be looked to.
       [Exeunt CLOWN, 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 devoured:--
       [To Viola.] 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 numbered 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, deceived;
       You are betroth'd both to a maid and man.
       DUKE
       Be not amazed; 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 over-swear;
       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.]
       A most extracting frenzy of mine own
       From my remembrance clearly banished 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: 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.
       OLIVIA
       Open it, and read it.
       CLOWN
       Look then to be well edified when the fool delivers the
       madman:--'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
       Pr'ythee, 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-used Malvolio'
       OLIVIA
       Did he write this?
       CLOWN
       Ay, madam.
       DUKE
       This savours not much of distraction.
       OLIVIA
       See him delivered, Fabian: bring him hither.
       [Exit FABIAN.]
       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.--
       [To VIOLA] Your master quits you; 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 called me master for so long,
       Here is my hand; you shall from this time be
       You master's mistress.
       OLIVIA
       A sister?--you are she.
       [Re-enter FABIAN with MALVOLIO.]
       DUKE
       Is this the madman?
       OLIVIA
       Ay, my lord, this same;
       How now, Malvolio?
       MALVOLIO
       Madam, you have done me wrong,
       Notorious wrong.
       OLIVIA
       Have I, Malvolio? no.
       MALVOLIO
       Lady, you have. Pray you peruse that letter:
       You must not now deny it is your hand,
       Write from it, if you can, in hand or phrase;
       Or say 'tis not your seal, not your invention:
       You can say none of this. Well, grant it then,
       And tell me, in the modesty of honour,
       Why you have given me such clear lights of favour;
       Bade me come smiling and cross-garter'd to you;
       To put on yellow stockings, and to frown
       Upon Sir Toby and the lighter people:
       And, acting this in an obedient hope,
       Why have you suffer'd me to be imprison'd,
       Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest,
       And made the most notorious geck and gull
       That e'er invention played on? tell me why.
       OLIVIA
       Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing,
       Though, I confess, much like the character:
       But out of question, 'tis Maria's hand.
       And now I do bethink me, it was she
       First told me thou wast mad; then cam'st in smiling,
       And in such forms which here were presuppos'd
       Upon thee in the letter. Pr'ythee, be content:
       This practice hath most shrewdly pass'd upon thee:
       But, when we know the grounds and authors of it,
       Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge
       Of thine own cause.
       FABIAN
       Good madam, hear me speak;
       And let no quarrel, nor no brawl to come,
       Taint the condition of this present hour,
       Which I have wonder'd at. In hope it shall not,
       Most freely I confess, myself and Toby
       Set this device against Malvolio here,
       Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts
       We had conceiv'd against him. Maria writ
       The letter, at Sir Toby's great importance;
       In recompense whereof he hath married her.
       How with a sportful malice it was follow'd
       May rather pluck on laughter than revenge,
       If that the injuries be justly weigh'd
       That have on both sides past.
       OLIVIA
       Alas, poor fool! how have they baffled thee!
       CLOWN
       Why, 'some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some
       have greatness thrown upon them.' I was one, sir, in this
       interlude;:--one Sir Topas, sir; but that's all one:--'By the
       Lord, fool, I am not mad;'--But do you remember? 'Madam, why
       laugh you at such a barren rascal? An you smile not, he's
       gagged'? And thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.
       MALVOLIO
       I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you.
       [Exit.]
       OLIVIA
       He hath been most notoriously abus'd.
       DUKE
       Pursue him, and entreat him to a peace:--
       He hath not told us of the captain yet;
       When that is known, and golden time convents,
       A solemn combination shall be made
       Of our dear souls.--Meantime, sweet sister,
       We will not part from hence.--Cesario, come:
       For so you shall be while you are a man;
       But, when in other habits you are seen,
       Orsino's mistress, and his fancy's queen.
       [Exeunt.]
       CLOWN
                   Song.
             When that I was and a little tiny boy,
                 With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
             A foolish thing was but a toy,
                 For the rain it raineth every day.
             But when I came to man's estate,
                 With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
             'Gainst knave and thief men shut their gate,
                 For the rain it raineth every day.
             But when I came, alas! to wive,
                 With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
             By swaggering could I never thrive,
                 For the rain it raineth every day.
             But when I came unto my bed,
                 With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
             With toss-pots still had drunken head,
                 For the rain it raineth every day.
             A great while ago the world begun,
                 With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
             But that's all one, our play is done,
                 And we'll strive to please you every day.
       [Exit.]