« السابقةمتابعة »
Clo. Hold thy peace, thou knave, Knight. I shall be constrain’d in't, to call the knave, Knight.
Sir And. 'Tis not the first time I have conftraiu'd one to call me knave. Begin, fool ; it begins, Hold thy prace. člo. I shall never begin, if I hold my peace. Sir And. Good, i' faith : come, begin.
[They sing a catch,
Enter Maria. Mar. What a catterwauling do you keep here? if my Lady have not call'd up her steward, Alalvolio, and bid him turn you out of doors, wever truit me.
Sir To. My Lady's a catayan, we are politicians, Malvolio's a peg-a ram/ry, and three merry men be we. Am not I consanguinious ? am I not of her bicod ? Tilly vally, Lady! there diult a man in Babylon, Lady, Lady.
[Singing Clo. Beshrew me, the Knight's in admirable tooling.
Sir And. Ay, he does well enough if he be disposid, and so do I too: he does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural.
Sir To. O the twelfth day of December, - (Singing. Mar. For the love o'God, peace.
Enter Malvolio, Mal. My Masters, are you mad; or what are you? have you no wit, manners, nor honesty, but to gabble like tinkers at this time of night? do you make an alehouse of my Lady's house, that ye squeak out your coziers catches without any mitigation or remorse of voice? is there no respect of place, persons, nor time in you?
Sir To. We did keep time, Sir, in our catches. Sneck up!
[Hiccoughs. Mal. Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My Lady bade me tell you, that she harbours you as her uncle, she's nothing ally'd to your disorders. If you can separate yourself and your misdemeanors, you are welcome to the house : if not, an it would please you to
take leave of her, she is very willing to bid you farewel.
Sir To. Farewel, dear heart, fince I must needs be gone.
eyes do dhew, his days are almost done.
[Singing Clo. What, an if you
Sir To. Out o'time, Sir? ye lye: art thou any more than a steward? doft thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale ?
Clo. Yes, by faint Anne ; and ginger fhall be hot i'th' mouth too.
Sir To. Thou’rt i'ch' right. Go, Sir, rub your chain with crums.
A stoop of wine, Maria.Mal. Mistress Mary, if you priz’d my Lady's favour at any thing more than contempt, you would not give means for this uncivil rule; the hall know of it, by this hand.
[Exit. Mar. Go, shake your ears.
Sir And. 'Twere as good a deed as to drink when a man's a hungry, to challenge him to the field, and then to break promise with him, and make a fool of him.
Sir To. Do't, Knight, I'll write thee a challenge: or I'll deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth.
Mar. Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for to-night; since the youth of the Duke's was to-day with my Lady, she is much out of quiet. For Monsieur Malvolio, let me alone with him : if I do not gull him into a nayword, and make him a common recreation, do not think, I have wit enough to lie straight in my bed : I know, I can do it.
Sir To. Poffess us, possess us, tell us something of him.
Mar. Marry, Sir, sometimes he is a kind of a Puritan.
Sir And. O, if I thought that, I'd beat him like a dog.
Sir To. What, for being a Puritan ? thy exquisite reason, dear Knight.
Sir And. I have no exquisite reason for't, but I have reason good enough.
Mar. The devil a Puritan that he is, or any thing constantly but a time-pleaser; an affection'd afs, that cons state without book, and utters it by great swarths. The best persuaded of himself: fo cram'd, as he thinks, with excellencies, that it is his ground of faith, that all that look on him, love him; and on that vice in him will my revenge find notable cause to work.
Sir To. What wilt thou do?
Mar. I will drop in his way fome obscure epistles of love, wherein, by the colour of his beard, the shape of his leg, the manner of his gate, the expressure of his eye, forehead, and complexion, he shall find himself most feelingly personated. I can write very like my Lady your niece; on a forgotten matter we can. hardly make diftinction of our hands.
Sir To. Excellent, I smell a device.
Sir To. He shall think by the letters, that thou wilt drop, that they come from my niece, and tha: she is in love with him..
Mar. My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour. Sir And. And your horle now would make him an afs.
Mar. Afs, I doubt not..
Mar.. Sport royal, I warrant you: I'know, my phyfick will work with him. I will plant you two, and let the fool make a third, where he shall find the letter : observe his construction of it: for this night to bel, and dream on the event. Farewel.
[Exit. Sir To. Good night, Penthifilea. Sir: And. Before me, The's a good wench.
Sir To. She's a beagle, true-bred, and one that adores me; what o' that?
Sir And. I was ador'd once too.
Sir To. Let's to bed, Knight: thou hadt need fend for more money.
Sir And. If I cannot recover your niece, I am a foul way out.
Sir To. Send for money, Knight : if thou haft her not i'th' end, call me cut.
Sir And. If I do not, never trust me, take it how
Sir To. Come, come, I'll go burn fome Sack, 'tis too late to go to bed now ; come, Knight; come, Knight.
(Exeunt. SCENE changes to the Palace.
Enter Duke, Viola, Curio, and others.
Cur. He is not here, so please your Lordship, that should sing it.
Duke. Who was it? Cur. Fefte the jefter, my Lord, a fool that the Lady Olivia's father took much delight in. He is about the house. Duke. Seek him out, and play the tune the while.
[Exit Curio. [Mufick. Come hither, boy; if ever thou shalt love, In the sweet pangs of it, remember me; For such as I am, all true lovers are ; Unstaid and kittish in all motions else, Save in the constant image of the creature That is belov’d. How dost thou like this tune?
Vio. It gives a very echo to the seat
Duke. Thou dost speak masterly:-
Vio. A little, by your favour.
Duke. Too old, by heav'n; let still the woman take
Vio. I think it well, my Lord.
Duke. Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Or thy affection cannot hold the bent: For women are as roses, whose fair flower, Being once display'd, doth fall that very hour.
Vio. And so they are : alas, that they are so, To die, even when they to perfection grow !
Enter Curio and Clown.-
Clo. Are you ready, Sir ?