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. Vio. How can this be?
Duke. When came he to this town?

Ant. To-day, my lord; and forthree months before, (No interim, not a minute's vacancy,) Both day and night did we keep company.

Enter Oliver 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.

Oli. What would my lord, but that he may not have, Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.

Duke. Gracious Olivia,

Vio. Madam! 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,

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 spite.
Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mis-
I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love,
[chief:
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?

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 't is 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,

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; Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear. 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 the love of God, your help: I had rather than forty pound I were at home.

Oli. Who has done this, sir Andrew?

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

Duke. My gentleman, Cesario?

Sir And. 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.

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.

Sir And. 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 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 and a passy-measures 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 dressed together.

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

Oli. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to. [Exeunt Clown, Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew.

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 everywhere. I had a sister,
Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd :-
Of charity, what kin are you to me? [To Viola.
What countryman? what name? what parentage?
Vio. 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 mistook :
[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 wrack:
Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times, [To Vio.
Thou never shouldst love woman like to me.

Vio. 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.
Vio. The captain, that did bring me first on shore,

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 to 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, madam,'Oli. 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 vox. Oli. Prithee, 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. Oli. Read it you, sirrah. [To Fab. 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 hither. [Exit Fabian. My lord, so please you, these things further thought To think me as well a sister as a wife, [on, 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.

How now, Malvolio?

Mal.

Notorious wrong.

Ay, my lord, this same :

Madam, you have done me wrong,
Oli. Have I, Malvolio? no.
Mal. 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, 't is 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 play'd on? tell me why.

Oli. Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing, Though, I confess, much like the character: But, out of question, 't is Maria's hand. And now I do bethink me, it was she First told me thou wast mad; thou cam'st in smiling, And in such forms which here were presuppos'd Upon thee in the letter. Prithee, 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. Fab. 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 pass'd.

Oli. Alas, poor fool! how have they baffled thee! Clo. 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 gagg'd:' And thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.

Mal. I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you.

[Exit.

Oli. 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.

SONG.

Clo. 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 knaves and thieves 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-pot 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

ACT I.

SCENE I.-Sicilia. An Antechamber in Leontes' Palace.

Enter Camillo and Archidamus.

Arch. If you shall chance, Camillo, to visit Bohemia, on the like occasion whereon my services are now on foot, you shall see, as I have said, great difference betwixt our Bohemia and your Sicilia.

Cam. I think, this coming summer, the king of

Sicilia means to pay Bohemia the visitation which he justly owes him.

Arch. Wherein our entertainment shall shame us we will be justified in our loves: for, indeed,Cam. 'Beseech you,-

Arch. Verily, I speak it in the freedom of my knowledge: we cannot with such magnificencein so rare-I know not what to say.-We will give you sleepy drinks, that your senses, unintelligent of our insufficience, may, though they cannot praise us, as little accuse us.

Cam. You pay a great deal too dear for what's given freely.

Arch. Believe me, I speak as my understanding instructs me, and as mine honesty puts it to utterance.

Cam. Sicilia cannot show himself over-kind to Bohemia. They were trained together in their childhoods; and there rooted betwixt them then such an affection which cannot choose but branch now. Since their more mature dignities, and royal necessities, made separation of their society, their encounters, though not personal, have been royally attorneyed, with interchange of gifts, letters, loving embassies; that they have seemed to be together, though absent; shook hands, as over a vast; and embraced, as it were, from the ends of opposed winds. The heavens continue their loves!

Arch. I think there is not in the world either malice, or matter, to alter it. You have an unspeakable comfort of your young prince Mamillius; it is a gentleman of the greatest promise that ever came into my note.

Cam. I very well agree with you in the hopes of him: It is a gallant child; one that, indeed, physics the subject, makes old hearts fresh; they that went on crutches ere he was born desire yet their life, to see him a man.

Arch. Would they else be content to die? Cam. Yes; if there were no other excuse why they should desire to live.

Arch. If the king had no son they would desire to live on crutches till he had one.

SCENE II.- The same.

[Exeunt.

A Room of State in the Palace.

Enter Leontes, Polixenes, Hermione, Mamillius, Camillo, and Attendants.

Pol. Nine changes of the wat'ry star have been
The shepherd's note, since we have left our throne
Without a burden: time as long again
Would be fill'd up, my brother, with our thanks;
And yet we should, for perpetuity,

Go hence in debt: And therefore, like a cipher
Yet standing in rich place, I multiply,
With one we-thank-you, many thousands more
That go before it.

Leon.

Stay your thanks awhile; And pay them when you part.

Pol.

Sir, that's to-morrow,

I am question'd by my fears, of what may chance,
Or breed upon our absence: That may blow
No sneaping winds at home, to make us say,
"This is put forth too truly!' Besides, I have stay'd
To tire your royalty.

Leon.

We are tougher, brother, Than you can put us to 't. Pol. No longer stay. Leon. One seven-night longer.

Pol.
Very sooth, to-morrow.
Leon. We'll part the time between's then: and
I'll no gainsaying.
[in that
Pol.
Press me not, 'beseech you, so;
There is no tongue that moves, none, none i' the
world,

So soon as yours, could win me: so it should now
Were there necessity in your request, although
'T were needful I denied it. My affairs
Do even drag me homeward: which to hinder
Were, in your love, a whip to me; my stay,
To you a charge and trouble: to save both,
Farewell, our brother.

Leon.

Tongue-tied, our queen? speak you.

Her. I had thought, sir, to have held my peace, until

[sir, You had drawn oaths from him, not to stay. You, Charge him too coldly: Tell him, you are sure All in Bohemia 's well: this satisfaction The by-gone day proclaim'd; say this to him, He's beat from his best ward.

[venture

Leon. Well said, Hermione. Her. To tell he longs to see his son, were strong: But let him say so then, and let him go; But let him swear so, and he shall not stay, We'll thwack him hence with distaffs.— Yet of your royal presence [to Polixenes] I'll adThe borrow of a week. When at Bohemia You take my lord, I'll give him my commission, To let him there a month, behind the gest Prefix'd for's parting: yet, good deed, Leontes, I love thee not a jar o' the clock behind What lady she her lord.-You'll stay? Pol.

Her. Nay, but you will? Pol.

Her. Verily !

No, madam.

I may not, verily.

As potent as a lord's. Will you go yet?
Force me to keep you as a prisoner,
Not like a guest; so you shall pay your fees, [you?
When you depart, and save your thanks. How say
My prisoner? or my guest? by your dread verily,
One of them you shall be.
Pol.

Your guest then, madam : To be your prisoner should import offending; Which is for me less easy to commit

Than you to punish. Her. Not your gaoler then,
But your kind hostess. Come, I'll question you
Of my lord's tricks, and yours, when you were
You were pretty lordings then.
[boys;
Pol.
We were, fair queen,
Two lads, that thought there was no more behind
But such a day to-morrow as to-day,
And to be boy eternal.

Her. Was not my lord the verier wag o' the two? Pol. We were as twinn'd lambs, that did frisk i' the sun,

And bleat the one at the other: What we chang'd
Was innocence for innocence; we knew not
The doctrine of ill-doing, nor dream'd
That any did: Had we pursued that life,
And our weak spirits ne'er been higher rear'd
With stronger blood, we should have answer'd
heaven

Boldly, 'Not guilty;' the imposition clear'd,
Hereditary ours. Her. By this we gather,

You have tripp'd since.
Pol.
O my most sacred lady,
Temptations have since then been born to us for
In those unfledg'd days was my wife a girl;
Your precious self had then not cross'd the eyes
Of my young play-fellow. Her. Grace to boot!
Of this make no conclusion; lest you say
Your queen and I are devils: Yet, go on;
The offences we have made you do we 'll answer;
If you first sinn'd with us, and that with us
You did continue fault, and that you slipp'd not
With any but with us.

Leon.

Is he won yet?
Her. He'll stay, my lord.
Leon.

At my request, he would not.