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. Oli. What would my lord, but that he may not have,

Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable? Cesario, you do not keep promise with me. Vio. Madam?

Duke. Gracious Olivia,——

Oli.. What do you say, Cesario?-Good my lord,

Vio. My lord would speak, my duty hushes

me.

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 sometimes 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
favor,

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.

[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 beguiled! Vio. Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong?

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 past 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,

Strengthened 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. Ó, 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?

and

Sir And. He has broke my head across, 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:

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, didst see Dick surgeon, sot?

Clo. Ó he's drunk, sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyes were set at eight in the morning. Sir To. Then he's a rogue. After a passymeasure, or a 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, & Sir AND.

Enter SEBASTIAN.

Seb. 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!
Seb. Antonio! O, my dear Antonio,
How have the hours rack'd and tortured me,
Since I have lost thee.

Ant. Sebastian are you?
Seb.

Fearst 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 every where. I had a sister,
Whom the blind waves and surges have de-
voured:-

Of charity, what kin are you to me?
[TO VIOLA.
What countryman? what name? what pa-
rentage?

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,

Were you a woman, as the rest goes even,
Which from the womb I did participate.
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,
Do not embrace me, till each circumstance
But this my masculine usurp'd attire,
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 gen-
tle help

I was preserved, 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 mis-
But nature to her bias drew in that.
took:
[TO OLIVIA.
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:
Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times,
[TO VIOLA.

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,

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.

Ŏli. 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 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 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 FABIAN. 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 [Exit FABIAN. My lord, so please you, these things further thought on,

hither.

To think me as well a sister as a wife,
One day shall crown the alliance on't, so please

A sister?-you are she.

Re-enter FABIAN, with MALVOLIO.
Duke. Is this the madman?
Oli.

Ay, my lord, this same:

How now, Malvolio?
Mal. Madam, you have done me wrong,
Notorious 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 'tis not your seal, nor your invention:
You cau say none of this: Well, grant it then,
And tell me, in the modesty of honor,
Why you have given me such clear lights of
favor;

Bade me come smiling, and cross-garter'd to

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, 'tis Maria's hand. And now 1 do bethink me, it was she First told me, thou wast mad: then camest in smiling,

And in such forms which here were pre-supposed

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 Malvoiio here,
Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts
We had conceived against him: Maria writ
The letter, at sir Toby's great importance;
In recompence 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.

Oli. Alas, poor fool! how have they baffled
thee!

Clo.Why,some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them. I was one, sir, in this interlude; one sir Topas, sir; but that's all one:-By the Lord, fool, 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

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.

Leon. A victory is twice itself, when the achiever brings home full numbers. I find here, that don Pedro hath bestowed much honor on a young Florentine, called Claudio. Mess. Much deserved on his part, and equally remembered by don Pedro: He hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age; doing, in the figure of a lamb, the feats of a lion: he hath, indeed, better bettered expectation, than you must expect of me to tell you how.

Leon. He He hath an an uncle here in Messina will be very much glad of it.

Mess. I have already delivered him letters, and there appears much joy in him; even so much, that joy could not show itself modest enough, without a badge of bitterness.

Leon, Did he break out into tears?
Mess. In great measure.

Leon. A kind overflow of kindness: There are no faces truer than those that are so washed. How much better is it to weep at joy, than to joy at weeping!

Beat. I pray you, is signior Montanto returned from the wars, or no? VOL. I.

Mess. I know none of that name, lady; there was none such in the army, of any sort. Leon. What is he that you ask for, niece? Hero. My cousin means signior Benedick of Padua.

Mess. O, he is returned; and as pleasant as ever he was.

Beat. He set up his bills here in Messina, and challenged Cupid at the flight: and my uncle's fool, reading the challenge, subscribed for Cupid, and challenged him at the birdbolt. I pray you, how many hath he killed and eaten in these wars? But how many hath he killed? for, indeed, I promised to eat all of his killing.

Leon. Faith, niece, you tax signior Benedick too much; but he'll be meet with you, I doubt it not.

Mess. He hath done good service, lady, in these wars.

Beat. You had musty victual, and he hath holp to eat it: he is a very valiant trencherman, he hath an excellent stomach.

Mess. And a good soldier too, lady. Beat. And a good soldier to a lady;-But what is he to a lord?

Mess. A lord to a lord, a man to a man; stuffed with all honorable virtues.

Beat. It is so, indeed; he is no less than a stuffed man; but for the stuffing, Well, we are all mortal.

Leon. You must not, sir, mistake my niece: there is a kind of merry war betwixt signior Benedick and her: they never meet, but there is a skirmish of wit between them.

Beat. Alas, he gets nothing by that. In our last conflict, four of his five wits went halting

M