“The” Dramatic Works of Shakspeare [sic].

Where fires thou findst unraked, and hearths

unswept,

There piuch the maids as blue as bilberry: Our radiant queen hates sluts, and sluttery. Fal. They are fairies; he, that speaks to them, shall die:

I'll wink and couch: No man their works
must eye.
Lies down upon his face.
Eva. Where's Bede-Go you, and where,
you find a maid,

That, ere she sleep, has thrice her prayers said,
Raise up the organs of her fantasy,
Sleep she as sound as careless infancy;
But those as sleep, and think not on their sins,
Pinch them, arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides,
and shins.

That it may stand till the perpetual doom,
In state as wholesome as in state 'tis fit;
Worthy the owner, and the owner it.
The several chairs of order look you scour
With juice of balm, and every precious flower:
Each fair instalment, coat,' and several crest,
With loyal blazon, evermore be blest!
And nightly, meadow-fairies, look, you sing,
Like to the Garter's compass, in a ring:
The expressure that it bears, green let it be,
More fertile-fresh than all the field to see;
And, Hony soit qui mal y pense, write,
In emerald tufts, flowers purple, blue and
white;

Like sapphire, pearl, and rich embroidery, Buckled below fair knighthood's bending ( #knee:

Fairies use flowers for their charactery.
Away; disperse: But, till 'tis one o'clock,
Our dance of custom, round about the oak
Of Herne the hunter, let us not forget.

Eva. Pray you, lock hand in hand; yourselves in order set:

And twenty glow-worms shall our lanterns be, To guide our measure round about the tree. But, stay; I smell a man of middle earth.

Fal. Heavens defend me from that Welch fairy! lest he transform me to a piece of cheese!

Pist. Vile worm, thou wast o'er-look'd even in thy birth.

Quick. With trial-fire touch me his fingerend:

If he be chaste, the flame will back descend,
And turn him to no pain; but if he start,
It is the flesh of a corrupted heart.

Pist. A trial, come.

Eva, Come, will this wood take fire? [They burn him with their tapers. Fal. Oh, oh, oh!

Quick. Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in

desire!

About him, fairies; sing a scornful rhyme: And, as you trip, still pinch him to your time. Eva. It is right; indeed he is full of lecheries and iniquity.

SONG.

Fie on sinful fantasy!
Fie on lust and luxury!
Lust is but a bloody fire,
Kindled with unchaste desire,
Fed in heart; whose flames aspire,
As thoughts do blow them, higher and
higher.

Pinch him, fairies, mutually;
Pinch him for his villany;

Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about,

Till candles, and star-light, and moonshine be out.

During this song, the fairies pinch Falstaff. Doctor Caius comes one way, and steals away a fairy in green; Slender another way, and takes off a fairy in white; and Fenton comes, and steals away Mrs. Anne Page. A noise of hunting is made within. All the fairies run away. Falstaff pulls off his buck's head, and rises.

Enter PAGE, FORD, Mrs.PAGE, & Mrs. FORD. They lay hold on him.

Page. Nay, do not fly: I think, we have watch'd you now.

Will none but Herne the hunter serve your turn?

Mrs. Page. I pray you, come; hold up the

jest no higher:

Now, good sir John, how like you Windsor wives?

See you these, husband? do not these fair yokes Become the forest better than the town?

Ford. Now, sir, who's a cuckold now?Master Brook, Falstaff's a knave, a cuckoldly knave; here are his horns, master Brook: And, master Brook, he hath enjoyed nothing of Ford's but his buck-basket, his cudgel, and twenty pounds of money, which must be paid to master Brook; his horses are arrested for it, master Brook.

Mrs. Ford. Sir John, we have had ill luck; we could never meet. I will never take you for my love again, but I will always count you my deer.

Fal. I do begin to perceive that I am made an ass.

Ford. Ay, and an ox toe; both the proofs

are extant.

Fal. And these are not fairies? I was three or four times in the thought, they were not fairies: and yet the guiltiness of my mind, the sudden surprise of my powers, drove the grossness of the foppery into a received belief, in despite of the teeth of all rhyme and reason, that they were fairies. See now, how wit may be made a Jack-a-lent, when 'tis upon ill employment!

Eva. Sir John Falstaff, serve Got, and leave your desires, and fairies will not pinse you. Ford. Well said, fairy Hugh.

Eva. And leave you your jealousies too, Itress Anne Page, and she's a great lubberly pray you.

Ford. I will never mistrust my wife again, till thou art able to woo her in good English. Fal. Have I laid my brain in the sun, and dried it, that it wants matter to prevent so gross o'er-reaching as this? Am I ridden with a Welch goat too? Shall I have a coxcomb of frize? 'tis time I were choked with a piece of toasted cheese.

Eva. Seese is not good to give putter; your pelly is all patter.

Fal. Seese and putter! Have I lived to stand at the taunt of one that makes fritters of Eng-I lish? This is enough to be the decay of lust and late-walking, through the realm.

Mrs. Page. Why, sir John, do you think, though we would have thrust virtue out of our hearts by the head and shoulders, and have given ourselves without scruple to hell, that ever the devil could have made you our delight?

Ford. What, a hodge-pudding? a bag of flax?
Mrs. Page. A puffed man?

Page. Old, cold, withered, and of intolerable entrails?

Ford. And one that is as slanderous as Satan?
Page. And as poor as Job?

Ford. And as wicked as his wife?

Eva. And given to fornications, and to taverns, and sack, and wine, and metheglius, and to drinkings, and swearings, and starings, pribbles and prabbles?

Fal. Well, I am your theme; you have the start of me; I am dejected; I am not able to answer the Welch flannel; ignorance itself is a plummet o'er me: use me as you will.

Ford. Marry, sir, we'll bring you to Windsor, to one master Brook, that you have cozened of money, to whom you should have been a pander: over and above that you have suffered, I think, to repay that money will be a biting affliction.

Mrs. Ford. Nay, husband, let that go to
make amends;

Forgive that sum, and so we'll all be friends.
Ford. Well, here's my hand; all's forgiven

boy. If it had not been i' the church, I would have swinged him, or he should have swinged me. If I did not think it had been Anne Page, would I might never stir, and 'tis a post-inaster's boy..

Page. Upon my life then you took the wrong.

Slen. What need you tell me that? I think so, when I took a boy for a girl: If I had been married to him, for all he was in woman's apparel, I would not have had him.

Page. Why this is your own folly. Did not tell you, how you should know my daughter by her garments?

Slen. I went to her in white, and cried mum, and she cried budget, as Anne and I had appointed; and yet it was not Anne, but a post-master's boy.

Eva. Jeshu! Master Slender, cannot you see but marry boys?

Page. O, I am vexed at heart: What shall I do?

Mrs. Page. Good George, be not angry: I knew of your purpose; turned my daughter into green; and, indeed, she is now with the doctor at the deanery, and there married.

Enter CAIUS.

Caius. Vere is mistress Page? By gar, I am cozened; I ha' married un garçon, a boy; un paysan, by gar, a boy; it is not Anne Page: by gar, I am cozened.

Mrs. Page. Why, did you take her in green? Caius. Ay, be gar, and 'tis a boy; be gar, I'll raise all Windsor. [Exit CAIUS. Ford. This is strange! Who hath got the right Anne?

Page. My heart misgives me: Here comes master Fenton.

Enter FENTON and ANNE PAGE. How now, master Fenton?

Anne. Pardon, good father! good my mother, pardon!

Page. Now, mistress? how chance you went not with master Slender?

Mrs. Page. Why went you not with master

doctor, maid?

Fent. You do amaze her: Hear the truth

of it.

You would have married her most shamefully,
Where there was no proportion held in love.
The truth is, she and I, long since contracted,
Are now so sure, that nothing can dissolve us.
The offence is holy that she hath committed:
And this deceit loses the name of craft,
Of disobedience, or unduteous title;
Since therein she doth evitate and shun
A thousand irreligious cursed hours,
Which forced marriage would have brought
upon her.

Ford. Stand not amazed: here is no re-
medy :-

In love, the heavens themselves do guide the state;

Money buys lands, and wives are sold by

fate.

Fal. I am glad, though you have ta'en a special stand to strike at me, that your arrow hath glanced.

Puge. Well, what remedy? Fenton, heaven give thee joy!

What cannot be eschew'd, must be embraced. Fal. When night-dogs run, all sorts of deer are chased.

Eva. I will dance, and eat plums at your wedding.

Mrs. Page. Well, I will muse no further:-
Master Fenton,

Heaven give you many, many merry days!
Good husband, let us every one go home,
And laugh this sport o'er by a country fire;
Sir John and all.
Ford.
Let it be so:-Sir John,
To master Brook you yet shall hold your word;
For he to-night shall lie with mistress Ford.
[Exeunt.

TWELFTH-NIGHT: OR, WHAT YOU WILL.

ORSINO, Duke of Illyria.

Persons represented.

SEBASTIAN, a young gentleman, brother to
Viola.

ANTONIO,a sea-captain, friend to Sebastian.
A SEA-CAPTAIN, friend to Viola.
VALENTINE, gentlemen attending on the
CURIO,
Duke.

SIR TOBY BELCH, uncle of Olivia.

SIR ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK.
MALVOLIO, steward to Olivia.
FABIAN,

CLOWN, servants to Olivia.

OLIVIA, a rich Countess.
VIOLA, in love with the Duke.
MARIA, Olivia's woman.

Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians, and other Attendants.
Scene,-A city in Illyria; and the sea-coast near it.

ACT I.

SCENE I. An Apartment in the Duke's

Palace.

Enter DUKE, CURIO, Lords; Musicians

attending.

A brother's dead love, which she would keep
fresh,

And lasting, in her sad remembrance.
Duke. O, she that hath a heart of that fine
frame,

Duke. If music be the food of love, play on, To pay this debt of love but to a brother,

Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.-
That strain again;-it had a dying fall:
O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south,
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing, and giving odor.-Enough; no more;
'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou!
That, notwithstanding thy capacity
Receiveth as the sea, naught enters there,
Of what validity and pitch soever,
But falls into abatement and low price,
Even in a minute! so full of shapes is fancy,
That it alone is high-fantastical.

Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord?
What, Curio?

The hart.

Duke.
Cur.
Duke. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have:
O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first,
Methought she purged the air of pestilence;
That instant was I turn'd into a hart;
And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,
E'er since pursue me.-How now? what news
from her?

Enter VALENTINE.

Val. So please my lord, I might not be ad-
mitted,

But from her handmaid do return this answer:
The element itself, till seven years' heat,
Shall not behold her face at ample view;
But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk,
And water once a day her chamber round
With eye-offending brine: all this, to season

How will she love, when the rich golden shaft
Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else
That live in her! when liver, brain, and heart,
These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and
fill'd,

(Her sweet perfections,) with one self king!-
Away before me to sweet beds of flowers;
Love-thoughts lie rich, when canopied with
bowers.
[Exeunt.

SCENE II. The Sea-coast.
Enter VIOLA, Captain, and Sailors.
Vio. What country, friends, is this?
Cap.
Illyria, lady.
Vio. And what should I do in Illyria?
My brother he is in Elysium.
Perchance he is not drown'd:-What think

you, sailors?

Cap. It is perchance that you yourself were

saved.

Vio. O my poor brother! and so perchance may he be.

Cap. True, madam: and, to comfort you

with chance,

Assure yourself, after our ship did split,
When you, and that poor number saved with

I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves, | in earlier o' nights; your cousin, my lady,
So long as I could see.
takes great exceptions to your ill hours.
Vio.

For saying so, there's gold:
Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,
Whereto thy speech serves for authority,
The like of him. Knowst thou this country?
Cap. Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and

Vio.

What's she?

Cap. A virtuous maid,the daughter of a count That died some twelvemonth since; then leaving her

In the protection of his son, her brother,
Who shortly also died: for whose dear love,
They say, she hath abjured the company
And sight of men.
Vio.

O, that I served that lady;
And might not be delivered to the world,
Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,
What my estate is.

Cap.
That were hard to compass;
Because she will admit no kind of suit:
No, not the duke's.

Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee,captain;
And though that nature with a beauteous wall
Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee
I will believe, thou hast a mind that suits
With this thy fair and outward character.
I pray thee, and I'll pay thee bounteously,
Conceal me what I am; and be my aid
For such disguise as, haply, shall become
The form of my intent. I'll serve this duke;
Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him,
It may be worth thy pains; for I can sing,
And speak to him in many sorts of music,
That will allow me very worth his service.
What else may hap, to time I will commit;
Only shape thou thy silence to my wit.

Cap. Be you his eunuch,and your mute I'll be: When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see!

Vio. I thank thee: Lead me on. [Exeunt.

SCENE III. A Room in Olivia's House.

Enter Sir TOBY BELCH and MARIA.

Sir To. What a plague means my niece, to take the death of her brother thus? I am sure, care's an enemy to life.

Sir To. Why, let her except before excepted. Mar. Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest limits of order.

Sir To. Confine! I'll confine myself no finer than I am: these clothes are good enough to drink in, and so be these boots too; an they be not, let them hang themselves in their own straps.

Mar. That quaffing and drinking will undo you: I heard my lady talk of it yesterday; and of a foolish knight, that you brought in one night here, to be her wooer.

Sir To. Who? Sir Andrew Ague-cheek?
Mar. Ay, he.

Sir To. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria.
Mar. What's that to the purpose?

Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats a year.

Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats; he's a very fool and a prodigal.

Sir To. Fie, that you'll say so! he plays o' the viol-de-gambo, and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature.

Mar. He hath, indeed,-almost natural: for, besides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller; and, but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among the prudent, he would quickly have the gift of a grave.

Sir To. By this hand they are scoundrels, and subtractors, that say so of him. Who are they?

Mar. They that add, moreover, he's drunk nightly in your company.

Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece; I'll drink to her, as long as there is a passage in my throat, and drink in Illyria: He's a coward, and a coystril, that will not drink to my niece, till his brains turn o' the toe like a parish top. What, wench? Castiliano vulgo; for here comes sir Andrew Ague-face.

Enter Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK.
Sir And. Sir Toby Belch! how now, sir
Toby Belch?

Sir To. Sweet sir Andrew!

Sir And. Bless you, fair shrew.

Mar. And you too, sir.

Sir To. Accost, sir Andrew, accost.
Sir And. What's that?

Sir To. My niece's chamber-maid.
Sir And. Good mistress Accost, I desire
better acquaintance.

Mar. My name is Mary, sir.

Sir And. Good mistress Mary Accost,Sir To. You mistake, knight; accost, is, front her, board her, woo her, assail her.

Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake her in this company. Is that the meaning of accost?

Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen.

Sir To. An thou let part so, sir Andrew, Mar. By my troth, sir Toby, you must come would thou mightst never draw sword again.

« Previous Continue »

Books