ACT III. SCENE I.-OLIVIA's Garden. Enter VIOLA, and Clown with a tabor. Vio. SAVE thee, friend, and thy music: Dost thou live by thy tabor? Clo. No, sir, I live by the church. Vio. Art thou a churchman? Clo. No such matter, sir; I do live by the church: for I do live at my house, and my house doth stand by the church. Vio. So thou may'st say, the king lies by a beggar, if a beggar dwell near him: or, the church stands by thy tabor, if thy tabor stand by the church. Clo. You have said, sir. To see this age!-A sentence is but a cheveril glove to a good wit; How quickly the wrong side may be turned outward ! Vio. Nay, that's certain; they, that dally nicely with words, may quickly make them wanton. Clo. I would therefore, my sister had had no name, sir. Vio. Why, man? Clo. Why, sir, her name's a word; and to dally with that word, might make my sister wanton: But, indeed, words are very rascals, since bonds disgraced them. Vio. The reason, man? Clo. Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words; and words are grown so false, I am loath to prove reason with them. Vio. I warrant, thou art a merry fellow, and carest for nothing. Clo. Not so, sir, I do care for something: but in my conscience, sir, I do not care for you; if that be to care for nothing, sir, I would it would make you invisible. Vio. Art not thou the lady Olivia's fool? Clo. No, indeed, sir; the lady Olivia has no folly: she will keep no fool, sir, till she be married; and fools are as like husbands, as pilchards are to herrings, the husband's the bigger; I am, indeed, not her fool, but her corrupter of words. Vio. I saw thee late at the count Orsino's. Clo. Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb, like the sun; it shines every where. I would be sorry, sir, but the fool should be as oft with your master, as with my mistress: I think, I saw your wisdom there. Vio. Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee. Hold, there's expenses for thee. Clo. Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send thee a beard! Vio. By my troth, I'll tell thee; I am almost sick for one; though I would not have it grow on my chin. Is thy lady within? Clo. Would not a pair of these have bred, sir? bring a Cressida to this Troilus. Vio. I understand you, sir; 'tis well begg'd. Clo. The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, begging but a beggar; Cressida was a beggar. My lady is within, sir. I will construe to them whence you come; who you are, and what you would, are out of my welkin: I might say, element; but the word is over-worn. Vio. This fellow's wise enough to play the fool; And, like the haggard,' check at every feather For folly, that he wisely shows, is fit; But wise men, folly-fallen, quite taint their wit. [Exit. Enter Sir TOBY BELCH, and Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK. Sir To. Save you, gentleman. Vio. And you, sir. Sir And. Dieu vous garde, monsieur. Vio. Et vous aussi; votre serviteur. Sir And. I hope, sir, you are; and I am yours. Sir To. Will you encounter the house? my niece is desirous you should enter, if your trade be to her. Vio. I am bound to your niece, sir: I mean, she is the list of my voyage. Sir To. Taste your legs, sir, put them to motion. Vio. My legs do better understand me, sir, than I understand what you mean by bidding me taste my legs. [9] See our author's play of Troilus and Cressida. JOHNSON. [1] The hawk called the haggard, if not well trained and watched, will fly after every bird without distinction. STEEVENS. [2] The list is the bound, limit, farthest point. JOHNSON. .. Sir To. I mean, to go, sir, to enter. we are prevented. Enter OLIVIA and MARIA. -Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain odours on you! Sir And. That youth's a rare courtier! Rain odours! well. Vio. My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your own most pregnant and vouchsafed ear. Sir And. Odours, pregnant, and vouchsafed:-I'll get 'em all three ready. Oli. Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing. [Exe. Sir TOBY, Sir AND. and MARIA.]Give me your hand, sir. Vio. My duty, madam, and most humble service. Vio. Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess, Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment: Vio. And he is yours, and his must needs be yours; Oli. For him, I think not on him: for his thoughts, Oli. O, by your leave, I pray you; Vio. Dear lady, Oli. Give me leave, I beseech you: I did send, After the last enchantment you did here, A ring in chace of you; so did I abuse Myself, my servant, and, I fear me, you: Under your hard construction must I sit, To force that on you, in a shameful cunning, Have you not set mine honour at the stake, And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts [3] Pregnant for ready. STEEVENS. ichsafed for vouchsafing. MALONE. 9 VOL. IV. F2 1 That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiving Enough is shown; a cyprus, not a bosom, Hides my poor heart: So let me hear you speak. Vio. I pity you. Oli. That's a degree to love. Vio. No, not a grise; for 'tis a vulgar proof, 'That very oft we pity enemies. [Clock strikes. Oli. Why, then, methinks, 'tis time to smile again: Grace, and good disposition 'tend your ladyship! Oli. Stay: I pr'ythee, tell me, what thou think'st of me. I wish it might; for now I am your fool. Oli. O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful By maidhood, honour, truth, and every thing, I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth, JOHNSON. [4] A cyprus is a transparent stuff. JOHNSON. STEEVENS. And that no woman has; nor never none 1 And so adieu, good madam; never more Oli. Yet come again: for thou, perhaps, may'st move That heart, which now abhors, to like his love. [Exeunt. SCENE II. A Room in OLIVIA'S House. Enter Sir TOBY BELCH, Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK, and FABIAN. Sir And. No, faith, I'll not stay a jot longer. Sir To. Thy reason, dear venom, give thy reason. Sir To. Did she see thee the while, old boy? tell me that. Sir And. As plain as I see you now. Fab. This was a great argument of love in her toward you. Sir And. 'Slight! will you make an ass o' me? Fab. I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of judgment and reason. Sir To. And they have been grand jury-men, since before Noah was a sailor. Fab. She did show favour to the youth in your sight, only to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse valour, to put fire in your heart, and brimstone in your liver: You should then have accosted her; and with some excellent jests, fire-new from the mint, you should have banged the youth into dumbness. This was looked for at your hand, and this was baulked: the double gilt of this opportunity you let time wash off, and you are now sailed into the north of my lady's opinion; where you will hang like an icicle on a Dutchman's beard, unless you do redeem it by some laudable attempt, either of valour, or policy. Sir And. And't be any way, it must be with valour; for policy I hate: I had as lief be a Brownist, as a politician. [7] The Brownists were so called from Mr. Robert Browne, a noted separatist in Queen Elizabeth's reign. (See Strype's Annals of Queen Elizabeth, Vol. III. p. 15, 16, &c.) In his life of Whitgift, p. 323, he informs us, that 1 |