OMIATIC4BL I i t i Do not remove from 214 Dec. Arts *+** SHAKESPEARE'S COMEDY OF TWELFTH NIGHT OR WHAT YOU WILL EDITED, WITH NOTES BY WILLIAM J. ROLFE, Lnr.D. FORMERLY HEAD MASTER OF THE HIGH SCHOOL CAMBRIDGE, MASS. ILLUSTRATED PROPERTY OT DEPARTMENT OF DRAMATIC ART NEW YORK . : . CINCINNATI : - CHICAGO AMERICAN 1 BOOK COMPANY COPYRIGHT, 1904, BY WILLIAM J. ROLFE. TWELFTH NIGHT. W. P. 2 ART DEP-f PREFACE MY former edition of Twelfth Night, first published in 1879, is now substantially remade on the same general plan as the revised Merchant of Venice and other plays that have preceded it. The notes on textual variations have been either omitted or abridged, as this play, like most of the others read in schools and colleges, is now among the twelve plays that Dr. Furness has edited. No teacher can afford to do without his encyclopedic volumes, which furnish not only a complete variorum of the textual readings, but a condensed library of the Eng- lish and foreign literature relating to each play. For most of the " Critical Comments " in the former edition I have substituted matter of my own, much of which is drawn from familiar lectures prepared for audiences of teachers and students. Minor changes have been made throughout the Notes, and many new ones have been added, includ- ing a considerable number in place of those referring to my former editions of other plays. The book is now absolutely complete in itself. I believe that teachers will prefer the new edition to the old one ; but both can be used, without serious inconvenience, in the same class or club. PROPERTY OF DEPARTMENT OF DRAMATIC ART CONTENTS PAGE INTRODUCTION TO TWELFTH NIGHT 9 The History of the Play 9 The Sources of the Plot .11 General Comments on the Play . . . . .12 TWELFTH NIGHT 21 Act I . 23 Act II 47 Act III 72 Act IV . . c 101 Act V . ' 6 , .in NOTES . 131 APPENDIX Comments on Some of the Characters .... 225 The Time-Analysis of the Play 238 List of Characters in the Play ..... 239 INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES EXPLAINED . . . 241 'INTO THE CHANTRY PROPERTY OF SEA-FIGHT (iii. 3. 26) INTRODUCTION TO TWELFTH NIGHT THE HISTORY OF THE PLAY THIS play was first printed, so far as we know, in the folio of 1623, where it appears under the title of " Twelfe Night, Or what you will," and occupies pages 255-275 in the division of " Comedies." The earliest reference to the play that has been found is in a MS. diary of John Manningham, a member of the Middle Temple, which is preserved in the British Museum (MSS. Harl. 5353). The passage reads thus : l 1 1 give it as printed by Furness, who takes it from the Camden Society Reprints. No two editors print it in precisely the same form. Collier, Knight, and Staunton have " inscribing " instead of " in smiling," and Hudson omits the words. It will be seen that Manningham refers to Olivia as a " widdowe." 9 IO Twelfth Night "FEBR. 1601. " Feb. 2. At our feast, wee had a play called Twelue Night, or What you Will, much like the Commedy of Errores, or Menechmi in Plautus, but most like and neere to that in Italian called Inganni. A good practise in it to make the Steward beleeue his Lady widdowe was in loue with him, by counterfeyting a letter as from his Lady in generall termes, telling him what shee liked best in him, and prescribing his gesture in smiling, his apparaile, etc., and then when he came to practise mak- ing him beleeue they tooke him to be mad." As Twelfth Night is not included in Meres's list of Shakespeare's plays in his Palladis Tamia, we may infer that it was written between the publication of that book, in September, 1598, and February, i6oi[2]. It seems probable from Manningham's detailed descrip- tion that it was comparatively a new play when he saw it. It is assigned by the majority of critics to 1600 or 1601. The play is, on the whole, well printed in the folio, and the difficulties in the text are comparatively few. It is divided into acts and scenes, but has no list of dramatis personce. The name Twelfth Night was probably suggested by It is possible, as Collier suggests, that she was so represented in the comedy as first performed, or the writer may have been misled by the fact that she was in mourning for her brother. See also on iii. 4. 57 below. Introduction II the time of its first production, or by " its embodiment of the spirit of the Twelfth Night (twelfth after Christ- mas) sports and revels a time devoted to festivity and merriment " (White). The second title, Or What You Will, seems to imply that the first has no special mean- ing, though Ulrici sees a subtle significance in it. 1 THE SOURCES OF THE PLOT There are two Italian plays entitled GP Inganni (The Deceits), published in the latter part of the sixteenth century, and containing incidents somewhat resembling those of Twelfth Night. In one of them the sister who assumes male apparel bears the name Cesare, which may have suggested Shakespeare's Cesario. A third Italian play, GV Ingannati, has even a closer likeness to Twelfth Night, and in its Induction we find the name Malevolti, of which Malvolio may be a variation. It has been recently discovered (see the preface to Fur- ness's " New Variorum " edition of the play) that a Latin translation of this Italian drama, under the title of L&lia (the name of the heroine), was performed at Queen's College, Cambridge, in 1590, and again in 1598. Shakespeare's " small Latin " was large enough for the reading of this play, and he may have been in- debted to it rather than to any other source that has been suggested. It has been generally assumed that he 1 See half a page on the subject in his Shakspe are's Dramatic Art (Schmitz's trans, of 3d ed. vol. ii. p. 5). 12 Twelfth Night must have read and used the version of the story by Barnaby Riche, in his History of Apolonius and Silla, included in Riche His Farewell to Militarie Profession ; but Furness doubts that Shakespeare ever read the "coarse repulsive novel." The resemblances between the story and the play are few and slight. " Let noth- ing induce us to contaminate the spotless Viola and the haughty Olivia by the remotest hint of a kinship with the weak Silla and the brazen Julina." From whichever source the dramatist derived the hint of his plot, he owed to it only a few incidents and the mere skeleton of some of the characters. Malvolio, Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, Fabian, the Clown, and Maria are entirely his own creation ; as indeed all the other actors in the drama are in all that gives them life and individuality. GENERAL COMMENTS ON THE PLAY Twelfth Night is the brightest and sunniest of the three plays of Shakespeare's " golden prime of comedy." As You Like It and Much Ado both have a larger ad- mixture of the serious and sentimental, but that element in Twelfth Night is of the most delicate and ethereal character. The play was meant, as the title indicates, for the climax of the holiday season, when the sport and revelry are at their height, and sober occupations and serious interests are laid aside and forgotten. Only enough of the shadow of the workaday world is left to form a background to the lively picture, and to remind Introduction 13 us that life is not all pleasure and pastime, but that after the Twelfth Night revels are over, the morning brings back its duties and responsibilities and " man goeth forth unto his labour until the evening." The Hall of the Middle Temple, where John Man- ningham saw the play, is one of the only two buildings remaining in London whtsre we know that any of Shake- speare's dramas were performed in his lifetime ; the other being the Hall of Gray's Inn, where, according to the Gesta Grayorum, the Comedy of Errors was " played by the players " in December, 1594. The Temple Hall was built in 1572. It is one hun- dred feet long, forty-two feet wide, and forty-seven feet high ; and the roof is the best specimen of Elizabethan architecture in London. The exterior has been modi- fied considerably in more recent times, but the interior has suffered slight change since Shakespeare's day. Hawthorne, in his English Note-Books, gives the fol- lowing description of the hall : " Truly it is a most magnificent apartment ; very lofty, so lofty, indeed, that the antique roof is quite hidden, as regards all its de- tails, in the sombre gloom that broods under its rafters. The hall is lighted by four great windows on each of the two sides, descending halfway from the ceiling to the floor, leaving all beneath enclosed by oaken panel- ling, which on three sides is carved with escutcheons of such members of the society as have held the office of reader. There is likewise in a large recess or transept a great window occupying the full height of the hall and 14 Twelfth Night splendidly emblazoned with the arms of the Templars who have attained to the dignity of Chief-justices. The other windows are pictured, in like manner, with coats of arms of local dignities connected with the Temple ; and besides all these there are arched lights, high to- wards the roof, at either end, full of richly and chastely coloured glass ; and all the illumination that the great hall had came through these glorious panes, and they seemed the richer for the sombreness in which we stood. I cannot describe, or even intimate, the effect of this transparent glory, glowing down upon us in the gloomy depth of the hall. The screen at the lower end is of carved oak very dark and highly polished, and as old as Queen Elizabeth's time. ... I am reluctant to leave this hall without expressing how grave, how grand, how sombre, and how magnificent I felt it to be. As re- gards historical associations, it was a favourite dancing- hall of Queen Elizabeth, and Sir Christopher Hatton danced himself into her good graces there." The feasts of Christmas, Halloween, Candlemas, and Ascension were formerly celebrated here with great magnificence. A Master of the Revels was chosen, and the Lord Chancellor, Judges, and Benchers opened the sports by dancing thrice around the sea- coal fire : " Full oft within the spacious walls, When he had fifty winters o'er him, My grave Lord Keeper led the brawls ; The Seal and Maces danced before him." Introduction 15 This judicial foolery was satirized by Buckingham in The Rehearsal, by Prior in his Alma, and by Donne in his Satires; and Pope has his fling at it in the Dunciad ': " The judge to dance, his brother Serjeant calls." It was in this hall at dinner-time that Mr. Richard Martin, the Bencher to whom Ben Jonson dedicated his Poetaster, was thrashed by Sir John Davies, who for this display of unruly temper was expelled from the society. Shakespeare alludes to the hall in i Henry IV. iii. 3. 223, where the Prince says to Falstaff, " Meet me to-morrow in the Temple Hall at two o'clock in the afternoon ; " and again in i Henry VI. ii. 4. 3, where the scene is laid in the Temple Gardens, and Suffolk says to Plantagenet : " Within the Temple Hall we were too loud ; The garden here is more convenient." We see at a glance that the plot of Twelfth Night combines certain features of The Two Gentlemen of Verona and The Comedy of Errors. As in the former play, the heroine, in a foreign land and in masculine disguise, becomes the servant of the man she loves, who at the time is in love with another woman, but is not loved in return and eventually reciprocates the affection of the maiden page ; and, as in The Comedy of Errors, there is amusing confusion on account of the 1 6 Twelfth Night resemblance of twins to each other. In the passion of Olivia for the disguised girl we have the counterpart of the episode of Phebe and Rosalind in As You Like It ; and in both cases the lady gets a husband in place of the one who can " marry no woman." In AlPs Well Helena pursues Bertram, but does not woo another in his name, though she gets him in the end. The ro- mantic passion of the Duke for Olivia reminds us of the similar unrequited fancy of Romeo for Rosaline ; both of the " first loves " being forgotten as soon as the destined mate appears. Certain minor " parallelisms " are pointed out by Furnivall : " The Merchant of Venice gives us another Antonio willing to give his life for his friend Bassanio, just as here in Twelfth Night Antonio faces danger, nay, death, a pirate's due, for his love to his friend Sebas- tian. And to the same Merchant we surely go for recol- lections of the opening scene here, 'That strain again ! it had a dying fall ; O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour,' and for a parallel^, to the Duke's love of music through the play, ffenry SFsgives us in Falstaff and his fol- lowers the^eempany whence Sir Toby Belch and Sir Andrew Aguecheek come, as the Second Part of that play gives us Falstaff playing on Justice Shallow as Sir Toby in Twelfth Night plays on Sir Andrew. Is not Introduction 17 also S lender's echoing of Shallow in Merry Wives something like Sir Andrew echoing all Sir Toby's say- ings here, and fancying himself a man for it ? It is to the Sonnets that we turn for a parallel to Viola's plead- ing with Olivia to marry the Duke, and not forbear to leave a copy of her beauty to the world, and to the Sonnets to his mistress for Shakspere's love of music ; while to match Viola's entire devotion even to death to the Duke's most unjust will we must look forward, even past the Sonnets, to the true and loving Imogen's will- ingness to die in obedience to her deceived and head- strong husband's iniquitous sentence of death on her (Cymb. iii. 4. 65-79)." I cannot better close these preliminary comments than with a portion of Verplanck's introduction to the play : l " We may safely fix the date of this comedy about the year 1600 or 1601, and class it among the later pro- ductions of that period of Shakespeare's life when his mind most habitually revelled in humorous delineation, while his luxuriant fancy, turning aside from the sterner l The Illustrated Shakespeare, edited by G. C. Verpianck (New York, 1847), vol. ii, page 6 of Twelfth Night. I am the more inclined to quote from this edition because it has now been out of print for fifty years, having been entirely destroyed (together with nearly all the stereotype plates) in the fire at the Harper establishment in 1853. It was the first critical and thoroughly annotated edition of Shakespeare published in this country, and is still one of the best of its class, Amer- ican or English. Copies of it are rare in the public libraries, and are seldom offered for sale. TWELFTH NIGHT 2 1 8 Twelfth Night and painful passions, sheds its gayest tints over in- numerable forms of grace and beauty. He seems, by his title of the Twelfth Night, to apprise his audience of the general character of this agreeable and varied comedy a notice intelligible enough at that time, and still not without its significance in a great part of Europe, though quite otherwise among our un-holid ay- keeping people on this side of the Atlantic. Twelfth Night was, in the olden times, the season of universal ^/festivity of masques, pageants, feasts, and tradi- tionary sports. This comedy then would not disap- point public expectation, when it was found to contain a delightful combination of the delicate fancy and ro- mantic sentiment of the poetic masque, with a crowd of revelling, laughing, or laugh-creating personages, whose truth all would recognize, and whose spirit and fun no gravity could resist. He gave to these the revelling spirit, and the exaggeration of character necessary for the broadest comic effect, but still kept them from becoming mere buffoon masquers by a truth of por- traiture which shows them all to be drawn from real life. Malvolio the matchless Malvolio was not only new in his day to comic delineation of any sort, but I believe has never since had his fellow or his copy in any succeeding play, poem, essay, or novel. The gravity, the acquirement, the real talent, and accom- plishment of the man, all made ludicrous, fantastical, and absurd by his intense vanity, is as true a conception as it is original and droll, and its truth may still be Introduction 19 frequently attested by actual comparison with real Malvolios, to be found everywhere, from humble do- mestic life up to the high places of learning, of the State, and even of the Church. Sir Toby certainly comes out of the same associations where the poet saw Falstaff hold his revels. He is not Sir John, nor a fainter sketch of him, yet with an odd sort of family likeness to him. Dryden and other dramatists have fe- licitated themselves upon success in grouping together their comic underplots with their more heroic per- sonages. But here all, grave and gay, the lovers, the laughers, and the laughed-at, are made to harmonize in one scene and one common purpose. I cannot help adding though perhaps it maybe a capricious over- refinement that to my mind this comedy resembles Macbeth, in one of the marked characteristics of that great drama ; appearing, like it, to have been struck out at a heat, as if the whole plot, its characters and dialogue, had presented themselves at once, in one harmonious group, before the ' mind's eye ' of the poet, previous to his actually commencing the formal busi- ness of writing, and bearing no indication either of an original groundwork of incident, afterwards enriched by the additions of a fuller mind, or of thoughts, situa- tions, and characters accidentally suggested, or growing unexpectedly out of the story as the author proceeded." PROPERTY OF DEPABTMFBT OF OR8MATIP ADT PROPERTY OF DEPARTMENT OF DRAMATIC ART TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL DRAMATIS PERSONS ORSINO, Duke of Illyria. SEBASTIAN, brother to Viola. ANTONIO, a sea captain, friend to Sebastian. A Sea Captain, friend to Viola. CuR?o NTINE ' ( entlemen attending on the Duke. SIR TOBY BELCH, uncle to Olivia. XSiR ANDREW AGUECHEEK. MALVOLIO, steward to Olivia. FEsT'a Clown, j savants to Olivia. XOLIVIA. VIOLA. MARIA, Olivia's woman. Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians, , and other Attendants. SCENE: A city in Illyria, and the sea-coast near it. 22 PROPERTY OF DEPARTO SFALATRO ACT I SCENE I. The Duke's Palace Enter DUKE, CURIO, and other Lords ; Musicians attending Duke. If music be the food of love, play on ; 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 sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour ! Enough ; no more ! 'T is 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, nought enters there, Of what validity and pitch soe'er, 23 24 Twelfth Night [Act I But falls into abatement and low price, Even in a minute 1 So full of shapes is fancy That it alone is high fantastical. Curio. Will you go hunt, my lord ? Duke. What, Curio ? Curio. The hart. Duke. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have. O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first, Methought she purg'd the air of pestilence 1 20 That instant was I turn'd into a hart ; And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, E'er since pursue me. Enter VALENTINE How now ! what news from her ? Valentine. So please my lord, I might not be admitted, 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 30 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 ' To pay this debt of love but to a brother, ./ ' Howl/will she love when the rich golden shaft 1 Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else That live in her ; when liver, brain, and heart, ; o Scene II] Twelfth Night 25 These sovereign thrones, are all supplied and fill'd 1& Her sweet perfection with one self king ! tf Away before me to sweet beds of flowers ! i > 40 Love-thoughts lie rich when canopied with bowers. ^ \Exeunt ^ SCENE II. The Sea-coast Enter VIOLA, a Captain, and Sailors Viola. What country, friends, is this ? Captain. This is Illyria, lady. Viola. And what should I do in Illyria? My brother he is in Elysium. Perchance he is not drown'd ; what think you, sailors ? Captain. It is perchance that you yourself were sav'd. Viola. O my poor brother ! and so perchance may he be. Captain. True, madam ; and, to comfort you with chance, Assure yourself, after our ship did split, When you and thc&e poor number sav'd with you : 10 Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother, Most provident in peril, bind himself, Courage and hope both teaching him the practice, To a strong mast that liv'd upon the sea, Where, lik f e Arion on the dolphin's back, I saw him hoicTacquaintance with the waves So long as I could see. Viola. For saying so there 's gold. Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope, 26 Twelfth Night [Acti Whereto thy speech serves for authority, 20 The like of him. Know'st thou this country ? Captain. Ay, madam, well ; for I was bred and born Not three hours' travel from this very place. Viola. Who governs here ? Captain. A noble duke, in nature as in name. Viola. What is his name ? Captain. Orsino. Viola. Orsino ! I have heard my father name him ; He was a bachelor then. Captain. And so is now, or was so very late ; 30 For but a month ago I went from hence, And then 't was fresh in murmur as, you know, \Vhat great ones do^he less will prattle of That he did seek the love of fair Olivia. Viola. What 's she ? Captain. 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 abjur'd the company 40 And sight of men. Viola. O that I serv'd that lady, And might not be deliver'd to the world, Till I had made mine own occasion mellow, What my estate is ! Captain. That were hard to compass, Because she will admit no kind of suit, No, not the duke's. Scene III] Twelfth Night 27 Viola. 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 50 With this thy fair and outward character. I prithee, and I '11 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 '11 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. /hat else may hap to time I will commit ; 60 Only shape thou thy silence to my wit. Captain. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I '11 be ; When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see. Viola. I thank thee ; lead me on. [Exeunt. SCENE III. Olivia's House Enter SIR TOBY BELCH and MARIA Sir Toby. What a plague means my niece, to take the death of her brother thus ? I am sure care 's an enemy to life* Maria. By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier o' nights ; your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions to your ill hours. Sir Toby. Why, let her except before excepted. 28 Twelfth Night [Act I Maria. Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest limits of order. Sir Toby. Confine ! I '11 confine myself no finer 10 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. Maria. 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 Toby. Who, Sir Andrew Aguecheek ? Maria. Ay, he. Sir Toby. He 's as tall a man as any 's in Illyria. 20 Maria. What 's that to the purpose ? Sir Toby. Why, he has three thousand ducats a year. Maria. Ay, but he '11 have but a year in all these ducats ; he 's a. very fool and a prodigal. Sir Toby. Fie, that you '11 say so ! he plays o' the viol-de-gamboys, and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature. Maria. He hath indeed, all most natural ; for 30 besides that he 's a fool, he 's a great quarreller, and but that he hath the gift of a coward tp allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, 't is thought among the prudent he would quickly have the gift of a grave. Sir Toby. By this hand, they are scoundrels and substractors that say so of him. Who are they ? Scene III] Twelfth Night 29 Maria. They that add, moreover, he 's drunk . nightly in your company. Sir Toby. With drinking healths to my niece ; I '11 drink to her as long as there is a passage in 40 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 ! Castilianp vulgo 1 for here comes Andrew Agueface. Enter SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK Sir Andrew. Sir Toby Belch 1 how now, Sir Toby Belch ! Sir Toby. Sweet Sir Andrew ! Sir Andrew. Bless you, fair shrew ! Maria. And you too, sir. 50 Sir Toby. Accost, Sir Andrew, accost. Sir Andrew. What 's that ? Sir Toby. My niece's chambermaid. Sir Andrew. Good Mistress Accost, I desire bet- ter acquaintance. Maria. My name is Mary, sir. Sir Andrew. Good Mistress Mary Accost, Sir Toby. You mistake, knight ; accost is front her, board her, woo her, assail her. Sir Andrew. By my troth, I would not undertake 60 her in this company. Is that the meaning of accost ? Maria. Fare you well, gentlemen. Sir Toby. An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, would thou mights t never draw sword again 1 30 Twelfth Night [Acti Sir Andrew. An you part so, mistress, I would I might never draw sword again ! Fair lady, do you think you have fools in hand ? Maria. Sir, I have not you by the hand. Sir Andrew. Marry, but you shall have ; an$ here 's my hand. 70 Maria. Now, sir, thought is free ; I pray you, bring your hand to the buttery-bar and let it drink. Sir Andrew. Wherefore, sweet-heart ? what's your metaphor ? Maria. It 's dry, sir. Sir Andrew. Why, I think so ; I am not such an ass but I can keep my hand dry. But what 's your jest? Maria. A dry jest, sir. Sir Andrew. Are you full of them ? 80 Maria. Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers' ends", marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren. \Exit f Sir Toby. O knight, thou lackest a cup of canary ! when did I see thee so put down ? Sir Andrew. Never in your life, I think ; unless you see canary put me down. Methinks sometimes ^' I have no more wit than a Christian or an ordinary man has ; but I am a great eater of beef, and I be- ' lieve that does harm to my wit. Sir Toby. No question. 90 Sir Andrew. An I thought that, I'd forswear it. I '11 ride home to-morrow, Sir Toby. Sir Toby, Pourquoi, my dear knight? Scene III] Twelfth Night 31 Sir Andrew. What is pourquoi ? do or not do ? I ^ would I had bestowed that time in the tongues that I have in fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting ! O, ^ had I but followed the arts ! Sir Toby. Then hadst thou had an excellent head ^ of hair. Sir Andrew. Why, would that have mended my 100 hair ? Sir Toby. Past question ; for thou seest it will f not curl by nature. Sir Andrew. But it becomes me well enough, t"-~ does 't not ? Sir Toby. Excellent ; it hangs like flax on a dis- taff, and I hope to see a housewife take thee and spin it off. Sir Andrew. Faith, I '11 home to-morrow, Sir Toby. Your niece will not be seen, or if she be, it 's no four to one she '11 none of me ; the count himself here hard by wooes her. Sir Toby. She '11 none o' the count. She '11 not match above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit ; I have heard her swear 't. Tut, there 's life ' in 't, man. Sir Andrew. -II '11 stay a month longer. I am a * fellow o' the strangest mind i' the world ; I delight in masques and revels sometimes altogether. Sir Toby. Art tho,u good at these kickshawses, 120 knight ? Sir Andrew. As any man in Illyria, whatsoever 32 Twelfth Night [Acti he be, under the degree of my betters ; and yet I will not compare with an old man. Sir Toby. What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight? Sir Andrew. Faith, I can cut a caper. Sir Toby. And I can cut the mutton to 't. Sir Andrew. And I think I have the back-trick y simply as strong as any man in Illyria. ijo Sir Toby. Wherefore are these things hid ? where- fore have these gifts a curtain before 'em ? are they like to take dust, like Mistress Mall's picture ? why dost thou not go to church in a galliard and come home in a coranto ? My very walk should be a jig. What dost thou mean ? Is it a world to hide virtues in ? I did think, by the excellent constitution of thy leg, it was formed under the star of a galliard. Sir Andrew. Ay, 't is strong, and it does indif- ' ferent well in a flame-coloured stock. Shall we set 140 about some revels ? Sir Toby. What shall we do else ? were we not born under Taurus ? Sir Andrew. Taurus ! That 's sides and heart. Sir Toby. No, sir ; it is legs and thighs. "Let me see thee caper. Hal higher! ha, ha! excellent! / \Eoceuiit. SCENE IV. The Duke's Palace Enter VALENTINE and VIOLA in man's attire Valentine. If the duke continue these favours towards you, Cesario, you are like to be much Scene IV] Twelfth Night 33 advanced ; he hath known you but three days, and already you are no stranger. Viola. You either fear his humour or my negli- gence, that you call in question the continuance of his love. Is he inconstant, sir, in his favours ? Valentine. No, believe me. Viola, I thank you. Here comes the count. Enter DUKE, CURIO, and Attendants Duke. Who saw Cesario, ho ? 10 Viola. On your attendance, my lord ; here. Duke. Stand you awhile aloof. Cesario, Thou know'st no less but all ; I have unclasp'd To thee the book even of my secret soul. ^ Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her ; Be not denied access, stand at her doors, And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow - Till thou have audience. Viola. Sure, my noble lord, If she be so abandon 'd to her sorrow As it is spoke, she never will admit me. 20 Duke. Be clamorous and leap all civil bounds Rather than make unprofited return. Viola. Say I do speak with her, my lord, what then ?* Duke. O, then unfold the passion of my love, Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith. It shall become thee well to act my woes ; ^ She will attend it better in thy youth Than in a nuncio of more grave aspect. TWELFTH NIGHT $ 34 Twelfth Night [Act I Viola. I think not so, my lord. Duke. Dear lad, believe it, x For they shall yet belie thy happy years i- 30 That say thou art a man. Diana's lip Is not more smooth and rubious ; thy small pipe Is as the maiden's organ, shrill and sound, And all is semblative a woman's part. I know thy constellation is right apt For this affair. Some four or five attend him ; All, if you will, for I myself am best When least in company. Prosper well in this, And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord, To call his fortunes thine. Viola. I '11 do my best 40 To woo your lady. \Aside\ Yet, a barf ul strife ! Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife. ) [Exeunt. / SCENE V. < Olivia V House Enter MARIA and Clown Maria. Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will not open my lips so wide as a bristle may enter in way of thy excuse. My lady will hang thee for thy absence. Clown. Let her hang me ; he that is well hanged in this world needs to fear no colours. Maria. Make that good. Clown. He shall see none to fear. . Maria. A good le'nten answer. I can tell thee where that saying was born, of ' I fear no colours.' 10 Scene V] Twelfth Night 35 Clown. Where, good Mistress Mary ? Maria. In the wars ; and that may you be bold to say in your foolery. Clown. Well, God give them wisdom that have it ; and those that are fools, let them use their talents. Maria. Yet you will be hanged for being so long absent ; or, to be turned away, is not that as good as a hanging to you ? Clown. Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage ; and, for turning away, let summer bear it 20 out. Maria. You are resolute, then ? Clown. Not so, neither ; but I am resolved on two points. Maria. That if one break, the other will hold ; or, if both break, your gaskins fall. Clown. Apt, in good faith ; very apt. Well, go f thy way ; if Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria* Maria. Peace, you rogue, no more o' that. Here 30 comes my lady ; make your excuse wisely, you were best. [Exit. Clown. Wit, an 't be thy will, put me into good fooling ! Those wits that think they have thee do very oft prove fools, and I, that am sure I lack thee, ^ may pass for a wise man ; for what says Quinapalus ? ' Better a witty fool than a foolish wit,' 3 6 Twelfth Night [Act I Enter Lady OLIVIA with MALVOLIO God bless thee, lady 1 Olivia. Take the fool away. Clown. Do you not hear, fellows? Take away 40 the lady. Olivia. Go to, you 're a dry fool ; I '11 no more of you. Besides, you grow dishonest. Clown. Two faults, madonna, that drink and good counsel will amend ; for give the dry fool drink, then is the fool not dry. Bid the dishonest man mend ~ himself, if he mend he is no longer dishonest ; if he , cannot, let the botcher mend him. Any thing that 's mended is but patched ; virtue that transgresses is but patched with sin, and sin that amends is but 50 patched with virtue. If that this simple syllogism will serve, so ; if it will not, what remedy ? As there is no true cuckold but calamity, so beauty 's a flower. The lady bade take away the fool ; therefore, I say again, take her away. Olivia. Sir, I bade them take away you. \ Clown. Misprision in the highest degree ! Lady, *) cucullus non facit monachum ; that 's as much to say r as I wear not motley in my brain. Good madonna, give me leave to prove you a fool. 60 Olivia. Can you do it ? Clown. Dexteriously, good madonna. Olivia. Make your proof. Clown. I must catechise you for it, madonna; good my mouse of virtue, answer me. Scene VJ Twelfth Night 37 Olivia. Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I '11 bide your proof. Clown. Good madonna, why mournest thou ? Olivia. Good fool, for my brother's death. Clown. I think his soul is in -hell, madonna. 70 Olivia. I know his soul is in heaven, fool. Clown. The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your brother's soul being in heaven. Take away the fool, gentlemen. Olivia. What think you of this fool, Malvolio ? doth he not mend ? Malvolio. Yes, and shall do till the pangs of death shake him ; infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever make the better fool. Clown. God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for 80 the better increasing your folly ! Sir Toby will be sworn that I am no fox ; but he will not pass his word for twopence that you are no fool. Olivia. How say you to that, Malvolio ? Malvolio. I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such a barren rascal; I saw him put down the other day with an ordinary fool that has no more brain than a stone. Look you now, he 's out of his guard already ; unless you laugh and minister occasion to him, he is gagged. I protest, I take these wise men 9 o that crow so at these set kind of fools no better than the fools' zanies. Olivia. O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste with a distempered appetite. To be generous, 3 8 Twelfth Night [Act I guiltless, and of free disposition, is to take those things for bird-bolts that you deem cannon-bullets. There is no slander in an allowed fool, though he do nothing but rail ; nor no railing in a known discreet man, though he do nothing but reprove. / - ../^ Clown. Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for 100 thou speakest well of fools ! f Re-enter MARIA Maria. Madam, there is at the gate a young gen- tleman much desires to speak with you. Olivia. From the Count Orsino, is it ? Maria. I know not, madam ; 't is a fair young ^ man, and well attended. Olivia. Who of my people hold him in delay ? Maria. Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman. Olivia. Fetch him off, I pray you, he speaks noth- ing but madman ; fie on him ! [Exit Maria. ,] Go no you, Malvolio. If it be a suit from the count, I am sick, or not at home ; what you will, to dismiss it. \Exit Malvolio '.] Now you see, sir, how your fooling grows old, and people dislike it. Clown. Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if A thy eldest son should be a fool ; whose skull Jove cram with brains ! for here he comes one of thy / kin has a most weak pia mater. / Enter SIR TOBY Olivia. By mine honour, half drunk. What is he at the gate, cousin ? 120 Scene V] Twelfth Night 39 Sir Toby. A gentleman. Olivia. A gentleman ! what gentleman ? Sir Toby. 'T is a gentleman here a plague o' *^- these pickle-herring ! How now, sot ! 5^*** Clown. Good Sir Toby ! Olivia. Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by this lethargy ? Sir Toby. Lechery ! I defy lechery. There 's one at the gate. Olivia. Ay, marry, what is he ? 130 Sir Toby. Let him be the devil, an he will, I care not ; give me faith, say I. Well, it 's all one. [Exit. Olivia. What 's a drunken man like, fool ? Clown. Like a drowned man, a fool, and a mad- man : one draught above heat makes him a fool ; the second mads him ; and a third drowns him. Olivia. Go thou and seek the crowner, and let him sit o' my coz, for he 's in the third degree of drink, he 's drowned ; go, look after him. Clown. He is but mad yet, madonna ; and the 140 fool shall look to the madman. \ Re-enter MALVOLIO Malvolio. Madam, yond young fellow swears he will speak with you. I told him you were sick ; he takes on him to understand so much, and therefore comes to speak with you. I told him you were asleep ; he seems to have a foreknowledge of that too, and therefore comes to speak with you. What 40 Twelfth Night [Act i is to be said to him, lady ? he 's fortified against any denial. Olivia. Tell him he shall not speak with me. . 150 Malvofto. He has been told so ; and he says, he '11 stand at your door like a sheriff's post, and be the supporter to a bench, but he '11 speak with you. Olivia. What kind o' man is he ? Malvolio. Why, of mankind. Olivia. What manner of man ? Malvolio. Of very ill manner ; he '11 speak with you, will you or no. Olivia. Of what personage and years is he ? Malvolio. Not yet old enough for a man, nor 160 v' young enough for a boy, as a squash is before 't is a peascod, or a codling when 't is almost an apple ; 't is with him in standing water, between boy and man. He is very well-favoured and he speaks very shrewish ly ; one would think his mother's milk were scarce out of him. Olivia. Let him approach ; call in my gentle- woman. Malvolio. Gentlewoman, my lady calls. [Exit. Re-enter MARIA Olivia. Give me my veil ; come, throw it o'er my face. We '11 once more hear Orsino's embassy. 171 Enter VIOLA, and Attendants Viola. The honourable lady of the house, which is she ? Scene V] Twelfth Night 41 Olivia. Speak to me ; I shall answer for her. Your will ? Viola. Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable beauty, I pray you, tell me if this be the lady of " the house, for I never saw her ; I would be loath to cast away my speech, for besides that it is excellently well penned, I have taken great pains to con it. 180 Good beauties, let me sustain no scorn ; I am very comptible, even to the least sinister usage. Olivia. Whence came you, sir ? Viola. I can say little more than I have studied, and that question 's out of my part. Good gentle one, give me modest assurance if you be the lady of the house, that I may proceed in my speech. Olivia. Are you a comedian? Viola. No, my profound heart ; and yet, by the very fangs of malice I swear, I am not that I play. 190 Are you the lady of the house ? Olivia. If I do not usurp myself, I am. Viola. Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp yourself ; for what is yours to bestow is not yours to reserve. But this is from my commission ; I will on with my speech in your praise, and then show you the heart of my message. Olivia. Come to what is important in 't ; I forgive you the praise. Viola. Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 't 200 is poetical. Olivia. It is the more like to be feigned ; I pray 42 Twelfth Night [Act I V. l '' you, keep it in. I heard you were saucy at my gates, and allowed your approach rather to wonder at you than to hear you. If you be not mad, be gone ; if you have reason, be brief; 't is not that time of moon with me to make one in so skipping a dialogue. Maria. Will you hoist sail, sir? here lies your way. Viola. No, good swabber ; I am to hull here a lit- 210 tie longer. Some mollification for your giant, sweet lady. Tell me your mind ; I am a messenger. Olivia. Sure, you have some hideous matter to deliver, when the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak your office. Viola. It alone concerns your ear. I bring no overture of war, no taxation of homage : I hold the olive in my hand ; my words are as full of peace as matter. Olivia. Yet you began rudely. What are you ? 220 what would you ? Viola. The rudeness that hath appeared in me have I learned from my entertainment. What I am, and what I would, are as secret as maidenhead : to your ears, divinity ; to any other's, profanation. Olivia. Give us the place alone ; we will hear this * divinity. [Exeunt Maria and Attendants.} Now, f sir, what is your text ? Viola. Most sweet lady, \ Olivia. A comfortable doctrine, and much may be 230 said of it. Where lies your text ? Scene V] Twelfth Night 43 Viola. In Orsino's bosom. Olivia. In his bosom ! In what chapter of his bosom ? Viola. To answer by the method, in the first of his heart. Olivia. O, I have read it ; it is heresy. Have you no more to say ? Viola. Good madam, let me see your face. Olivia. Have you any commission from your lord 240 to negotiate with my face ? \ You are now out of your text ; but we will draw the curtain and show you the picture. Look you, sir, such a one I was this pres- ; ent ; is 't not well done ? [ Unveiling. Viola. Excellently done, if God did all. Olivia. 'T is in grain, sir; 't will endure wind and weather. Viola. 'T is beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on. Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive, 250 If you will lead these graces to the grave And leave the world no copy., Olivia. O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted ; I will give out divers schedules of my beauty. It shall be inventoried, and every particle and utensil labelled to my will : as, item, two lips, indifferent red ; item, two grey eyes, with lids to them ; item, one neck, f\ one chin, and so forth. Were you sent hither to/> * praise me ? Viola. I see you what you are, you are too proud ; 260 44 Twelfth Night [Acti But, if you were the devil, you are fair. My lord and master loves you ; O, such love Could be but recompens'd though you were crown 'd The nonpareil of beauty I Olivia. How does he love me ? Viola. With adorations, with fertile tears, With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire. Olivia. Your lord does know my mind ; I cannot love him. Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble, Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth ; In voices well divulg'd, free, learn 'd, and valiant ; 270 And in dimension and the shape of nature A gracious person. But yet I cannot love him ; He might have took his answer long ago. Viola. If I did love you in my master's flame, With such a suffering, such a deadly life, In your .denial I would find no sense ; I would not understand it. Olivia. Why, what would you ? Viola. Make me a willow cabin at your gate, And call upon my soul within the house ; (,iu! Write loyal cantons of contemned love, 280 And sing them loud even in the dead of night ; Halloo your name to the reverberate hills, And make the babbling gossip of the air Cry out Olivia ! O, you should not rest ) Between the elements of air and earth, But you should pity me 1 Scene V] Twelfth Night 45 Olivia. You might do much. What is your parentage ? Viola. Above my fortunes, yet my state is well ; I am a gentleman. Olivia. Get you to your lord ; I cannot love him. Let him send no more, 290 Unless, pprrhanrp^Qp .r.nmp to me again, x^ To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well. I thank you for your pains ; spend this for me. Viola. I am no fee'd post, lady, keep your purse; My master, not myself, lacks recompense. Love make his heart of flint that you shall love ; And let your fervour, like my master's, be Plac'd in contempt ! Farewell, fair cruelty. [Exit. Olivia. What is your parentage ? * Above my fortunes, yet my state is well ; 300 I am a gentleman.' I '11 be sworn thou art ; Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit, Do give thee five-fold blazon. Not too fast ! soft, soft 1 Unless the master were the man. How now ! Even so quickly may one catch the plague ? Methinks I feel this youth's perfections With an invisible and subtle stealth To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be. What ho, Malvolio ! Re-enter MALVOLIO Malvolio. Here, madam, at your service. Olivia, Run after that same peevish messenger, 310 46 Twelfth Night [Acti The county's man. He left this ring behind him, Would I or not ; tell him I '11 none of it. Desire him not to flatter with his lord, Nor hold him up with hopes ; I am not for him. If that the youth will come this way to-morrow, I '11 give him reasons for 't. Hie thee, Malvolio. Malvolio. Madam, I will. [Exit. Olivia. I do I know not what, and fear to find Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind. Fate, show thy force ! ourselves we do not owe ; 320 What is decreed must be, and be this so 1 [Exit. PROPERTY OF of mm THE SEA-COAST NEAR SPALATRO ACT II SCENE I. The Sea-coast Enter ANTONIO and SEBASTIAN Antonio. Will you stay no longer? nor will you not that I go with you ? Sebastian. By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly over me ; the malignancy of my fate might perhaps distempei yours ; therefore I shall crave of you your leave that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad recompense for your love, to lay any of them on you. Antonio. Let me yet know of you whither you are bound. Sebastian. No, sooth, sir ; my determinate voyage is mere extravagancy. But I perceive in you so 47 48 Twelfth Night [Act n excellent a touch of modesty that you will not extort from me what I am willing to keep in ; therefore it ".) charges me in manners the rather to express myself. , You must know of me then, Antonio, my name is Sebastian, which I called Roderigo. My father was that Sebastian of Messaline whom I know you have heard of. He left behind him myself and a sister, both born in an hour. If the heavens had been 20 pleased, would we had so ended ! but you, sir, altered that; for some hour before you took me from the breach of the sea was my sister drowned. Antonio. Alas the day ! Sebastian. A lady, sir, though it was said she much resembled me, was yet of many accounted beautiful ; but, though I could not with such estimable wonder overfar believe that, yet thus far I will boldly publish her : she bore a mind that envy could not but call fair. She is drowned already, sir, with salt water, 30 though I seem to drown her remembrance again with more. Antonio. Pardon me, sir, your bad entertainment. Sebastian. O good Antonio, forgive me your trouble 1 Antonio. If you will not murther me for my love, let me be your servant. Sebastian. If you will not undo what you have done, that is, kill him whom you have recovered, desire it not. Fare ye well at once ; my bosom is 40 full of kindness, and I am yet so near the manners Scene II] Twelfth Night 49 of my mother that upon the least occasion more \ mine eyes will tell tales of me. I am bound to the Count Orsino's court ; farewell. \Exit. Antonio, The gentleness of all the gods go with thee! I have many enemies in Orsino's court, Else would I very shortly see thee there. But, come what may, I do adore thee so That danger shall seem sport and I will go. \Exit,- SCENE II. A Street Enter VIOLA, MALVOLIO following Malvolio. Were not you even now with the Coun- tess Olivia ? Viola. Even now, sir ; on a moderate pace I have since arrived but hither. Malvolio. She returns this ring to you, sir ; you might have saved me my pains, to have taken it away yourself. She adds, moreover, that you should put your lord into a desperate assurance she will none of him ; and one thing more, that you be never so hardy to come again in his affairs unless it be to 10 report your lord's taking of this. Receive it so. Viola. She took the ring of me ; I '11 none of it. Malvolio. Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her, and her will is it should be so returned. If it be worth stooping for, there it lies in your eye ; if not, be it his that finds it. [Exit. TWELFTH NIGHT 4 50 Twelfth Night [Act II Viola. I left no ring with her ; what means this lady ? Fortune forbid my outside have not charm'd her ! She made good view of me ; indeed, so much That sure methought her eyes had lost her tongue, 20 For she did speak in starts distractedly. She loves me, sure ; the cunning of her passion Invites me in this churlish messenger. None of my lord's ring ! why, he sent her none. I am the man ; if it be so, as 't is, Poor lady, she were better love a dream. Disguise, I see, thou art a wickedness, Wherein the pregnant enemy does much. How easy is it for the proper-false In women's waxen hearts to set their forms ! 30 Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we ! For such as we are made of, such we be. How will this fadge ? my master loves her dearly ; And I, poor monster, fond as much on him ; And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me. What will become of this ? As I am man, My state is desperate for my master's love ; As I am woman, now alas the day ! What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe ! O time ! thou must untangle this, not I ; 40 It is too hard a knot for me to untie 1 \Exit. ^ Scene III] Twelfth Night 51 SCENE III. Olivia's House Enter SIR TOBY and SIR ANDREW Sir Toby. Approach, Sir Andrew ; not to be a-bed after midnight is to be up betimes, and ' diluculo surgere,' thou know'st, Sir Andrew. Nay, by my troth, I know not ; but I know to be up late is to be up late. Sir Toby. A false conclusion ; I hate it as an un- filled can. To be up after midnight and to go to bed then, is early ; so that to go to bed after midnight is to go to bed betimes. Does not our life consist of the four elements ? 10 Sir Andrew. Faith, so they say; but I think it rather consists of eating and drinking. Sir Toby. Thou 'rt a scholar ; let us therefore eat and drink. Marian, I say I a stoup of wine ! Enter Clown Sir Andrew. Here comes the fool, i' faith. Clown. How now, my hearts ! did you never see the picture of we three ? Sir Toby. Welcome, ass. ' Now let 's have a catch. ' Sir Andrew. By my troth, the fool has an excellent breast"? I had rather than forty shillings I had such 20 a leg, and so sweet a breath to sing, as the fool has. In sooth, thou wast in very gracious fooling last night, when thou spokest of Pigrogromitus, of the f 1 Vapians passing the equinoctial of Queubus ; 't was 52 Twelfth Night [Act n very good, i' faith. I sent thee sixpence for thy leman ; hadst it ? Clown. I did impeticos thy gratillity, for Malvo- lio's nose is no whipstock ; my lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses. Sir Andrew. Excellent ! why, this is the best fool- 30 ing, when all is done. Now, a song. Sir Toby. Come on ; there is sixpence for you ; let 's have a song. Sir Andrew. There 's a testril of me too ; if one knight give a Clown. Would you have a love-song or a song of good life ? Sir Toby. A love-song, a love-song. Sir Andrew. Ay, ay ; I care not for good life. Clown. [Sings] 40 O mistress mine, where are you roaming ? O, stay and hear; your true love 's coming That can sing both high and low. Trip no further, pretty sweeting; Journeys end in lovers meeting, Every wise man's son doth know. Sir Andrew. Excellent good, i' faith. Sir Toby. Good, good. Clown. [Sings] What is love ? V is not hereafter; 50 Present mirth hath present laughter ; What 's to come is still unsure* Scene III] Twelfth Night 53 In delay there lies no plenty. Then come kiss me^ sweet and twenty ; Youth V a stuff will not endure. Sir Andrew. A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight. Sir Toby. A contagious Weath. Sir Andrew. Very sweet and contagious, i' faith. Sir Toby. To hear by the nose, it is dulcet ip con- 60 tagion. But shall we make the welkin dance indeed ? -' shall we rouse the night-owl in a catch that will draw three souls out of one weaver ? shall we do that ? Sir Andrew. An you love me, let 's do 't ; I am dog at a catch. Clown. By 'r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well. /w-"C/.'**' v -4 Sir Andrew. Most certain. Let our catch be, Thou knave.' Clown. * Hold thy peace, thou knave,' knight ? I 70 ' shall be constrained in 't to call thee knave, knight. Sir Andrew. 'T is not the first time I have con- strained one to call me knave. Begin, fool ; it be- ' gins * Hold thy peace.' Clown. I shall never begin if I hold my peace. Sir Andrew. Good, i' faith. Come, begin. [Catch sung. Enter MARIA Maria. What a caterwauling do you keep here 1 If my lady have not called up her steward Malvolio and bid him turn you out of doors, never trust me. 54 Twelfth Night [Act II Sir Toby. My lady 's a Catalan, we are politicians, Malvolio 's a Peg-a-Ramsey, and ' Three merry men be we.' Am not I consanguineous ? am I not of her blood? Tillyvally, lady! [Sings] < There dwelt a ? man in Babylon, lady, lady ! ' ^ Clown. Beshrew me, the knight 's in admirable fooling. Sir Andrew. Ay, he does well enough if he be dis- posed, and so do I too ; he does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural. Sir Toby. [Sings] ' O, the twelfth day of Decem- 90 ber,' Maria. For the love of God, peace I Enter MALVOLIO Malvolio. 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 ye 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 Toby. We did keep time, sir, in our catches. ioc Sneck up ! Malvolio. Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My lady bade me tell you that, though she harbours you as her kinsman, she 's nothing allied to your dis- orders. If you can separate yourself and your mis- demeanours, you are welcome to the house ; if not, Scene III] Twelfth Night 55 an it would please you to take leave of her, she is very willing to bid you farewell. Sir Toby. ' P'arewell, dear heart, since I must needs be gone. 1 no Maria. Nay, good Sir Toby. Clown. ' His eyes do show his days are almost done.' Malvolio. Is 't even so ? Sir Toby. l But I will never die.' Clown. Sir Toby, there you lie. Malvolio. This is much credit to you. Sir Toby. ' Shall I bid him go ? ' Clown. ' What an if you do ? ' Sir Toby. ' Shall I bid him go, and spare not? ' 120 Clown. ' O, no, no, no, no, you dare not.' Sir Toby. Out o' time, sir? ye lie. Art any more than a steward ? Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale? Clown. Yes, by Saint Anne, and ginger shall be hot i' the mouth too. Sir Toby. Thou 'rt i' the right. Go, sir, rub your chain with crumbs. A stoup of wine, Maria ! Malvolio. Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady's 130 favour at any thing more than contempt, you would not give means for this uncivil rule ; she shall know of it, by this hand. [Exit. Maria. Go shake your ears. Sir Andrew. 'T were as good a deed as to drink 56 Twelfth Night [Actn when a man 's a-hungry, to challenge him the field, f and then to break promise with him and make a fool * of him. Sir Toby. Do 't, knight ! I '11 write thee a chal- lenge ; or I '11 deliver thy indignation to him by 149 word of mouth. Maria. Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for to-night ; since the youth of the count's was to-day with my lady, she is much out of quiet. For Monsieur Mal- volio, 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 Toby. Possess us, possess us, tell us some- thing of him. 150 Maria. Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of puritan. Sir Andrew. O, if I thought that, I 'd beat him like a dog ! Sir Toby. What, for being a puritan ? thy exqui- site reason, dear knight? Sir Andrew. I have no exquisite reason for 't, but I have reason good enough. Maria. The devil a puritan that he is, or any thing constantly but a time-pleaser ; an affectioned 160 ass, that cons state without book and utters it by ,. great swarths ; the best persuaded of himself, so - crammed, as he thinks, with excellencies that it is his ground of faith that all that look on him love Scene III] Twelfth Night 57 him ; and on that vice in him will my revenge find notable cause to work. Sir Toby. What wilt thou do ? Maria. I will drop in his way some obscure epistles of love, wherein, by the colour of his beard, the shape of his leg, the manner of his gait, the ex- 170 pressure 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 distinction of our hands. Sir Toby. Excellent ! I smell a device. Sir Andrew. I have 't in my nose too. Sir Toby. He shall think, by the letters that thou wilt drop, that they come from my niece and that she 's in love with him. Maria. My purpose is, indeed, a horse of thatiSo colour. Sir Andrew. And your horse now would make him an ass. Maria. Ass, I doubt not. Sir Andrew. O, 't will be admirable ! Maria. Sport royal, I warrant you ; I know my physic 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 bed, and dream on the event. Farewell. 190 [Exit: Sir Toby. Good night, Penthesilea. Sir Andrew. Before me, she 's a good wench. 58 Twelfth Night [Act n Sir Toby. She 's a beagle, true-bred, and one that adores me. What o' that ? Sir Andrew. I was adored once too. Sir Toby. Let 's to bed, knight. Thou hadst need send for more money. Sir Andrew. If I cannot recover your niece, I am a foul way out. Sir Toby. Send for money, knight ; if thou hast 200 her not i' the end, call me cut. Sir Andrew. If I do not, never trust me, take it how you will. Sir Toby. Come, come, I '11 go burn some sack ; 't is too late to go to bed now. Come, knight; come, knight. \Exeunt. SCENE IV. The Duke's Palace Enter DUKE, VIOLA, CURIO, and others Duke. Give me some music. Now, good morrow, friends. Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song, That old and antique song we heard last night. Methought it did relieve my passion much, More than light airs and recollected terms Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times. Come, but one verse. Curio. He is not here, so please your lordship, that should sing it. Duke. Who was it ? 10 Scene IV] Twelfth Night 59 Curio. Feste, the jester, 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. Music plays. 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 skittish in all motions else, Save in the constant image of the creature That is belov'd. | How dost thou like this tune ? 20 Viola. It gives a very echo to the seat Where love is thron'd. Duke. Thou dost speak masterly. My life upon 't, young though thou art, thine eye Hath stay'd upon some favour that it loves ; Hath it not, boy ? Viola. A little, by your favour. Duke. What kind of woman is 't ? Viola. Of your complexion. Duke. She is not worth thee, then. What years, i' faith ? Viola. About your years, my lord. Duke. Too old, by heaven ! Let still the woman take An elder than herself ; so wears she to him, 30 So sways she level in her husband's heart ; For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, 60 Twelfth Night [Actn More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn, Than women's are. Viola. 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 displayed, doth fall that very hour. Viola. And so they are ; alas, that they are so, 40 To die, even when they to perfection grow 1 Re-enter CURIO and Clown Duke. O, fellow, come, the song we had last night. Mark it, Cesario, it is old and plain ; The spinsters and the knitters in the sun And the free maids that weave their thread with bones Do use to chant it. It is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age. Clown. Are you ready, sir ? 49 Duke. Ay ; prithee, sing. [Music. Song Clown. Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid. Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew> O, prepare it! My part of death, no one so true Did share it. Scene IV] Twelfth Night 6 1 Not a flower, not a flower sweet ', On my black coffin let there be strown; 60 Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown. A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O, where Sad true lover never find my grave, To weep there / . Duke. There 's for thy pains. Clown. No pains, sir ; I take pleasure in singing, sir. Duke. I '11 pay thy pleasure then. 70 Clown. Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid, one \ time or another. Duke. Give me now leave to leave thee. Clown. Now the melancholy god protect thee ; and the tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffeta, for thy mind is a very opal! I would have men of such J constancy put to sea, that their business might be every thing and their intent every where ; for that 's it that always makes a good voyage of nothing. 79 Farewell. [Exit. Duke. Let all the rest give place. [Curio and Attendants retire. Once more, Cesario, Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty. Tell her, my love, more noble than the world, Prizes not quantity of dirty lands ; 62 Twelfth Night [Actn The parts that fortune hath bestow'd upon her, Tell her, I hold as giddily as fortune, But 't is that miracle and queen of gems That nature pranks her in attracts my soul. Viola. But if she cannot love you, sir ? 89 Duke. I cannot be so answer'd. Viola. Sooth, but you must. Say that some lady, .as perhaps there is, Hath for your love as great a pang of heart As you have for Olivia ; you cannot love her. You tell her so ; must she not then be answer'd ? Duke. There is no woman's sides Can bide the beating of so strong a passion As love doth give my heart, no woman's heart So big to hold so much ; they lack retention. Alas, their love may be call'd appetite, *) No motion of the liver, but the palate, 100 That suffer surfeit, cloyment, and revolt ; But mine is all as hungry as the sea And can digest as much. Make no compare Between that love a woman can bear me And that I owe Olivia. Viola. Ay, but I know Duke. What dost thou know ? Viola. Too well what love women to men may owe ; In faith, they are as true of heart as we. My father had a daughter lov'd a man, As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman, no I should your lordship. Scene V] Twelfth Night 63 Duke. , And what 's her history ? Viola. A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek ; she pin'd in thought, And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat like Patience on a monument, Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed ? We men may say more, swear more, but indeed Our shows are more than will ; for still we prove Much in our vows, but little in our love. 120 Duke. But died thy sister of her love, my boy ? Viola. I am all the daughters of my father's house, And all the brothers too ; and yet I know not. Sir, shall I to this lady ? Duke. Ay, that 's the theme, To her in haste ; give her this jewel ; say, My love can give no place, bide no denay. \Exeunt. SCENE V. Olivia's Garden Enter SIR TOBY, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN Sir Toby. Come thy ways, Signior Fabian. Fabian. Nay, I '11 come ; if I lose a scruple of this sport, let me be boiled to death with melancholy. Sir Toby. Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly rascally sheep-biter come by some notable shame ? Fabian. I would exult, man ; you know, he brought 64 Twelfth Night [Act II me out o' favour with my lady about a bear-baiting here. Sir Toby. To anger him we '11 have the bear again, 10 and we will fool him black and blue ; shall we not, Sir Andrew ? Sir Andrew. An we do not, it is pity of our lives. Sir Toby. Here comes the little villain. Enter MARIA How "now, my metal of India ! Maria. Get ye all three into the box-tree ; Malvo-- lio 's coming down this walk. He has been yonder i' the sun practising behaviour to his own shadow this half hour ; observe him, for the love of mockery, for I know this letter will make a contemplative idiot 20 ^ of him. Close, in the name of jesting! Lie thou there [throws down a letter] ; for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling. [Exit, Enter MALVOLIO Malvolio. 'T is but fortune ; all is fortune. Maria once told me she did affect me ; and I have heard herself come thus near, that, should she fancy, it should be one of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a more exalted respect than any one else that follows her. What should I think on 't? Sir Toby. Here 's an overweening rogue ! 30 Fabian. O, peace 1 Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him 1 how he jets under his advanced plumes 1 Scene V] Twelfth Night 65 Sir Andrew. 'Slight, I could so beat the rogue 1 Sir Toby. Peace, I say ! Malvolio. To be Count Malvolio ! Sir Toby. Ah, rogue ! Sir Andrew. Pistol him, pistol him. Sir Toby. Peace, peace ! Malvolio. There is example for 't ; the lady of the 40 Strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe. Sir Andrew. Fie on him, Jezebel ! Fabian. O, peace ! now he 's deeply in ; look how imagination blows him. Malvolio. Having been three months married to her, sitting in my state, '^ Sir Toby. O for a stone-bow, to hit him in the ( eye ! Malvolio. Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet gown ; having come from a day- 50 bed, where I have left Olivia sleeping, Sir Toby. Fire and brimstone ! Fabian. O, peace, peace ! Malvolio. And then to have the humour of state ; and after a demure travel of regard, telling them I know my place as I would they should do theirs, to ask for my kinsman Toby, Sir Toby. Bolts and shackles ! Fabian. O, peace, peace, peace ! now, now. Malvolio. Seven of my people, with an obedient 60 start, make out for him ; I frown the while, and- per- chance wind up my watch, or play with my some TWELFTH NIGHT 5 66 Twelfth Night [Actn rich jewel. Toby approaches, courtesies there to me, Sir Toby. Shall this fellow live ? Fabian. Though our silence be drawn from us by th' ears, yet peace. Malvolio. I extend my hand to him thus, quench- ing my familiar smile with an austere regard of control, 70 Sir Toby. And does not Toby take you a blow o' the lips then ? Malvolio. Saying, ' Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast me on your niece give me this preroga- tive of speech/ Sir Toby. What, what ? Malvolio. ' You must amend your drunkenness.' Sir Toby. Out, scab ! Fabian. Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot, f- 80 Malvolio. t Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish knight,' Sir Andrew. That 's me, I warrant you. Malvolio. f ' One Sir Andrew/ Sir Andrew. I knew 'twas I ; for many do call me fool. Malvolio. What employment have we here ? {Taking up the letter. Fabian. Now is the woodcock near the gin. Sir Toby. O, peace ! and the spirit of humours intimate reading aloud to him 1 90 Scene V] Twelfth Night 67 Malvolio. By my life, this is my lady's hand : these be her very C's, her U's, and her T's ; and thus makes she her great P's. It is, in contempt of question, her hand. Sir Andrew. Her C's, her U's,. and her T's ; why that? ''Malvolio. [Reads] ' To the unknown beloved, this, and my good wishes? Her very phrases ! By your O leave, wax. Soft ! and the impressure her Lucrece, \ with which she uses to seal ; 't is my lady. To whom 100 should this be ? Fabian. This wins him, liver and all. Malvolio. [Reads] 'Jove knows I love ; But who 1 Lips, do not move ; No man must know. ' ' No man must know.' What follows ? the numbers altered! 'No man must know.' If this should be thee, Malvolio ? no Sir Toby. Marry, hang thee, brock ! Malvolio. [Reads] * / may command where I adore, j_ But silence, like a Lucrece knife, With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore ; M, O y A, 7, doth sway my life' Fabian. A fustian riddle 1 / 68 Twelfth Night [Actn Sir Toby. Excellent wench, say I. Malvolio. ' M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.' Nay, but first, let me see, let me see, let me see. 120 Fabian. What dish o' poison has she dressed him ! A Sir Toby. And with what wing the staniel checks * at it! Malvolio. 'I may command where I adore.' Why, she may command me ; I serve her, she is my lady. Why, this is evident to any formal capacity ; there is no obstruction in this; and the end, what should that alphabetical position portend ? If I could make that resemble something in me, Softly ! 130 M, 0,A,I, Sir Toby. O, ay, make up that! he is now at a cold scent. Fabian. Sowter will cry upon 't for all this, though { it be as rank as a fox. Malvolio. M, Malvolio ; M, why, that begins my name. Fabian. Did not I say he would work it out ? the cur is excellent at faults. Malvolio. M, but then there is no consonancy 140 in the sequel ; that suffers under probation. A should follow, but O does. Fabian. And O shall end, I hope. Sir Toby. Ay, or I '11 cudgel him, and make him cry O! Malvolio, And then /comes behind. Scene V] Twelfth Night 69 Fabian. Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you might see more detraction at your heels than fortunes before you. Malvolio. M, O, A, /, this simulation is not as 150 the former ; and yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of these letters are in my name. Soft ! here follows prose. [Reads] ' If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I am above thee, but be not afraid of greatness ; some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon ''em. Thy Fates open their hands, let thy blood and spirit embrace them ; and, to inure thyself to what thou art like to be, cast thy humble slough and appear fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman, 160 surly with servants ; let thy tongue tang arguments of state ; put thyself into the trick of singularity ; she thus advises thee that sighs for thee. Remember who com- mended thy yellow stockings, and wished to see thee ever cross-gartered; I say, remember. Go to, thou art made, if thou desirest to be so ; if not, let me see thee a steward still, the fellow of servants, and not worthy to touch Fortune's fingers. Farewell. She that would alter sennces with thee, THE FORTUNATE-UNHAPPY.' 170 Daylight and chanTpaign discovers not more ; this is open. I will be proud, I will read politic authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off gross acquaint- q ance, I will be point-devise the very man. I do not * now fool myself, to let imagination jade me ; for every yo Twelfth Night [Actn reason excites to this, that my lady loves me. She did commend my yellow stockings of late, she did praise my leg being cross-gartered ; and in this she manifests herself to my love, and with a kind of injunction drives me to these habits of her liking. I thank my stars 1 180 am happy. I will be strange, stout, in yellow stock- ings, and cross-gartered, even with the swiftness of putting on. Jove and my stars be praised 1 Here is yet a postscript. [Reads] ' Thou canst not choose but know who I am. If thou entertainest my love, let it appear in thy smiling ; thy smiles become thee well, therefore in my presence still smile, dear my sweet, I prithee? Jove, I thank thee ! I will smile ; I will do every- thing that thou wilt have me. [Exit. 190 Fabian. I will not give my part of this sport for a^ pension of thousands to be paid from the Sophy. Sir Toby. I could marry this wench for this device. Sir Andrew. So could I too. Sir Toby. And ask no other dowry with her but such another jest. Sir Andrew. Nor I neither. Fabian. Here comes my noble gull-catcher. Re-enter MARIA Sir Toby. Wilt thou set thy foot o' my neck ? Sir Andrew. Or o' mine either ? 200 Sir Toby. Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip and become thy bond-slave ? Scene V] Twelfth Night 71 Sir Andrew. V faith, or I either ? Sir Toby. Why, thou hast put him in such a dream that when the image of it leaves him he must run mad. Maria. Nay, but say true ; does it work upon him ? Sir Toby. Like aqua-vitae with a midwife. Maria. If you will then see the fruits of the sport, 210 mark his first approach before my lady. He will come to her in yellow stockings, and 't is a colour she abhors ; and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests ; and he will smile upon her, which will now be so unsuitable to her disposition, being addicted to a melancholy as she is, that it cannot but turn him into a notable contempt. If you will see it, follow me. Sir Toby. To the gates of Tartar, thou most excel- lent devil of wit ! 219 Sir Andrew. I '11 make one too. [Exeunt. OLIVIA'S GARDEN ACT III SCENE I. Olivia's Garden Enter VIOLA and CLOWN with a tabor Viola. Save thee, friend, and thy music ! Dost thou live by thy tabor ? Clown. No, sir, I live by the church. Viola. Art thou a churchman ? Clown. 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. Viola. So thou mayst say, the king lies by a beg- gar, if a beggar dwell near him ; or the church stan-ds by thy tabor, if thy tabor stand by the church. 10 72 Scene I] Twelfth Night 73 Clown. You have said, sir. To sqe this age ! O A sentence is but a cheveril glove to a good wit ; how quickly the wrong side may be turned outward ! Viola. Nay, that's certain ; they that dally nicely with words may quickly make them wanton. Clown. I would, therefore, my sister had had no name, sir. Viola. Why, man ? Clown. Why, sir, her name 's a word ; and to dally with that word might make my sister wanton. But 20 indeed words are very rascals since bonds disgraced them. Viola. Thy reason, man ? Clown. Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words, and words are grown so false I am loath to prove reason with them. Viola. I warrant thou art a merry fellow and carest for nothing. Clown. Not so, sir, I do care for something, but in my conscience, sir, I do not care for you ; if that 30 be to care for nothing, sir, I would it would make you invisible. Viola. Art not thou the Lady Olivia's fool ? Clown. 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. Viola. I saw thee late at the Count Orsino's. 74 Twelfth Night [Act m Clown. Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like 40 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. Viola. Nay, an thou pass upon me, I '11 no more with thee. Hold, there 's expenses for thee. Clown. Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send thee a beard ! Viola. By my troth, I '11 tell thee, I am almost sick for one ; \Aside\ though I would not have it grow on my chin. Is thy lady within ? //SHUX- */ Scene IV] Twelfth Night 93 Re-enter SIR TOBY and FABIAN Sir Toby. Gentleman, God save thee. Viola. And you, sir. 230 Sir Toby. That defence thou hast, betake thee to 't. Of what nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know not ; but thy intercepter, full of despite, bloody as the hunter, attends thee at the orchard-end, ft Dismount thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation, for 1 thy assailant is quick, skilful, and deadly. Viola. You mistake, sir, I am sure no man hath any quarrel to me ; my remembrance is very free and clear from any image of offence done to any man. Sir Toby. You '11 find it otherwise, I assure you ; 240 therefore, if you hold your life at any price, betake you to your guard, for your opposite hath in him what youth, strength, skill, and wrath can furnish man withal. Viola. I pray you, sir, what is he ? Sir Toby. He is knight, dubbed with unhatched rapier and on carpet consideration, but he is a devil in private brawl ; souls and bodies hath he divorced three, and his incensement at this moment is so im- placable that satisfaction can be none but by pangs 250 of death and sepulchre. Hob, nob, is his word ; give 't or take 't. Viola. I will return again into the house and desire some conduct of the lady. I am no fighter. I have heard of some kind of men that put quarrels pur- 94 Twelfth Night [Actm posely on others, to taste their valour ; belike this is a man of that quirk. Sir Toby. Sir, no ; his indignation derives itself out of a very competent injury ; therefore, get you on and give him his desire. Back you shall not to the house, 260 unless you undertake that with me which with as much safety you might answer him ; therefore, on, or strip your sword stark naked, for meddle you must, that 's certain, or forswear to wear iron about you. Viola. This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you, do me this courteous office, as to know of the knight what my offence to him is ; it is something of my negligence, nothing of my purpose. Sir Toby. I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by this gentleman till my return. [Exit. 270 Viola. Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter ? Fabian. I know the knight is incensed against you, even to a mortal arbitrement, but nothing of the cir- cumstance more. Viola. I beseech you, what manner of man is he? Fabian. Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read him by his form, as you are like to find him in the proof of his valour. He is, indeed, sir, the most skilful, bloody, and fatal opposite that you could 280 possibly have found in any part of Illyria. Will you walk towards him ? I will make your peace with him if I can. Viola. I shall be much bound to you for 't. I am Scene iv] Twelfth Night 95 one that had rather go with sir priest than sir knight ; I care not who knows so much of my mettle. \Exeunt. Re-enter SIR TOBY, with SIR ANDREW Sir Toby. Why, man, he 's a very devil ; I have not seen such a firago. I had a pass with him, rapier, scabbard, and all, and he gives me the stuck in with such a mortal motion that it is inevitable ; and on the 290 answer, he pays you as surely as your feet hit the ground they step on. They say he has been fencer to the Sophy. Sir Andrew. Pox on 't, I '11 not meddle with him. Sir Toby. Ay, but he will not now be pacified; Fabian can scarce hold him yonder. Sir Andrew. Plague on 't, an I thought he had been valiant and so cunning in fence, I 'd have sen him damned ere I 'd have challenged him. Let him let the matter slip, and I '11 give him my horse, grey 300 Capilet. Sir Toby. I '11 make the motion. Stand here, make a good show on 't ; this shall end without the perdir tion of souls. [Aside] Marry, I '11 ride your horse as well as I ride you. Re-enter FABIAN and VIOLA \To Fabian] I have his horse to take up the quarrel ; I have persuaded him the youth 's a devil. Fabian. He is as horribly conceited of him, and pants and looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels. 96 Twelfth Night [Actm Sir Toby. \To Viola~\ There 's no remedy, sir; he 310 will fight with you for 's oath sake. Marry, he hath better bethought him of his quarrel, and he finds that now scarce to be worth talking of ; therefore draw, for the supportance of his vow ; he protests he will not hurt you. Viola. \Aside\ Pray God defend me 1 A little thing would make me tell them how much I lack of a man. Fabian. Give ground, if you see him furious. Sir Toby. Come, Sir Andrew, there 's no remedy ; 320 the gentleman will, for his honour's sake, have one bout with you. He cannot by the duello avoid it ; but he has promised me, as he is a gentleman and a soldier, he will not hurt you. Come on ; to 't. Sir Andrew. Pray God, he keep his oath 1 Viola. I do assure you, 't is against my will. \They draw. Enter ANTONIO Antonio. Put up your sword. If this young gentle- man Have done offence, I take the fault on me ; If you offend him, I for him defy you. Sir Toby. You, sir ! why, what are you ? 330 Antonio. One, sir, that for his love dares yet do more Than you have heard him brag to you he will. Sir Toby. Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for you. [They draw. Scene IV] * Twelfth Night 97 Enter Officers Fabian. O good Sir Toby, hold ! here come the officers. Sir Toby. I '11 be with you anon. Viola. Pray, sir, put your sword up, if you please. Sir Andrew. Marry, will I, sir, and, for that I promised you, I '11 be as good as my word ; he will bear you easily and reins well. 341 1 Officer. This is the man ; do thy office. 2 Officer. Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit of Count Orsino. Antonio. You do mistake me, sir. 1 Officer. No, sir, no jot ; I know your favour well, Though now you have no sea-cap on your head. Take him away ; he knows I know him well. Antonio. I must obey. \To Viold\ This comes with seeking you. But there 's no remedy ; I shall answer it. 350 What will you do, now my necessity Makes me to ask you for my purse ? It grieves me Much more for what I cannot do for you Than what befalls myself. You stand amaz'd ; But be of comfort. 2 Officer. Come, sir, away. Antonio. I must entreat of you some of that money. Viola. What money, sir ? For the fair kindness you have show'd me here, 359 And, part, being prompted by your present trouble, TWELFTH NIGHT 7 98 Twelfth Night - [Act ill Out of my lean and low ability I '11 lend you something. My having is not much ; I '11 make division of my present with you. Hold, there 's half my coffer. Antonio. Will you deny me now ? Is 't possible that my deserts to you Can lack persuasion ? Do not tempt my misery, Lest that it make me so unsound a man As to upbraid you with those kindnesses That I have done for you. Viola. I know of none, Nor know I you by voice or any feature. 370 I hate ingratitude more in a man Than lying, vainness, babbling drunkenness, Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption Inhabits our frail blood. Antonio. O heavens themselves t 2 Officer. Come, sir, I pray you, go. Antonio. Let me speak a little. This youth that you see here I snatch'd one half out of the jaws of death, Reliev'd him with such sanctity of love, And to his image, which methought did promise Most venerable worth, did I devotion. 380 i Officer. What 's that to us ? The time goes by ; away! Antonio. But, O, how vile an idol proves this god ! Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame. In nature there 's no blemish but the mind ; Scene IV] Twelfth Night 99 None can be call'd deform 'd but the unkind. Virtue is beauty, but the beauteous-evil Are empty trunks o'erflourish'd by the devil. i Officer. The man grows mad ; away with him ! Come, come, sir. Antonio. Lead me on. \_Exit with Officers. Viola. Methinks his words do from such passion fly 391 That he believes himself ; so do not I. Prove true, imagination, O, prove true, That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you ! Sir Toby. Come hither, knight, come hither, Fabian ; we '11 whisper o'er a couplet or two of most sage saws. Viola. He nam'd Sebastian. I my brother know J Yet living in my glass ; even such and so In favour was my brother, and he went 400 Still in this fashion, colour, ornament, For him I imitate. O, if it prove, Tempests are kind, and salt waves fresh in love! {Exit. Sir Toby. A very dishonest, paltry boy, and more a coward than a hare ; his dishonesty appears in leaving his friend here in necessity and denying him, and for his cowardship, ask Fabian. % Fabian. A coward, a most devout coward, religious ^ in it. 409 Sir Andrew. 'Slid, I '11 after him again and beat him. ioo Twelfth Night [Act m Sir Toby. Do ; cuff him soundly, but never draw thy sword. Sir Andrew. An I do not, \Exit. Fabian. Come, let 's see the event. Sir Toby. I dare lay any money 't will be nothing yet. [Exeunt. PROPERTY OF EPARTME ACT IV SCENE I. Before Olivia's House Enter SEBASTIAN and Clown Clown. Will you make me believe I am not sent for you ? Sebastian. Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow ; Let me be clear of thee. Clown. Well held out, i' faith ! No, I do not know you ; nor I am not sent to you by my lady, to bid you come speak with her ; nor your name is not Master Cesario ; nor this is not my nose neither. Nothing that is so is so. Sebastian. I prithee, vent thy folly somewhere else ; Thou know'st not me. n 10 r 102 Twelfth Night [Activ Clown. Vent my folly ! he has heard that word of some great man, and now applies it to a fool. Vent r*> my folly ! I am afraid this great lubber, the world, will prove a cockney. I prithee now, ungird thy strangeness, and tell me what I shall vent to my lady ; shall I vent to her that thou art coming ? ^ Sebastian. I prithee, foolish Greek, depart from me. ^ There 's money for thee ; if you tarry longer, I shall give worse payment. 20 Clown. By my troth, thou hast an open hand. T^se wise men that give fools money get them- w selves a good* report after fourteen years' pur- ^ chase. Enter SIR ANDREW, SIR TOBY, and FABIAN Sir Andrew. Now, sir, have I met you again ? there 's for you. Sebastian. Why, there 's for thee, and there, and there, and there. Are all the people mad ? Sir Toby. Hold, sir, or I '11 throw your dagger o'er the house. 3 Clown. This will I tell my lady straight ; I would not be in some of your coats for two pence. [Exit. Sir Toby. Come on, sir ; hold. Sir Andrew. Nay, let him alone. I '11 go another way to work with him ; I '11 have an action of battery against him, if there be any law in Illyria. Though I struck him first, yet it 's no matter for that. Scene I] Twelfth Night 103 Sebastian. Let go thy hand. Sir Toby. Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, 3 my young soldier, put up your iron. You are well 40 fleshed ; come on. Sebastian. I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou now ? If thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword. Sir Toby. What, what ? Nay, then I must have an ounce or two of this malapert blood from you. Enter OLIVIA Olivia. Hold, Toby ; on thy life I charge thee, hold ! Sir Toby. Madam ! Olivia. Will it be ever thus ? Ungracious wretch, Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves Where manners ne'er were preach'd ! out of my sight ! 50 Be not offended, dear Cesario. Rudesby, be gone ! \Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian. I prithee, gentle friend, Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway In this uncivil and unjust extent Against thy peace. Go with me to my house, And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks This ruffian hath botch 'd up, that thou thereby Mayst smile at this. Thou shalt not choose but go ; Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me, He started one poor heart of mine in thee. 60 104 Twelfth Night [Activ Sebastian. What relish is in this ? how runs the stream ? Or I am mad, or else this is a dream. Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep ; If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep ! Olivia. Nay, come, I prithee ; would thou 'dst be rul'd by me ! Sebastian. Madam, I will. Olivia. O, say so, and so be ! [Exeunt. SCENE II. Olivia's House 'Enter MARIA and Clown Maria. Nay, I prithee, put on this gown and this beard, make him believe thou art Sir Topas the curate. Do it quickly ; I '11 call Sir Toby the whilst. [Exit. Clown. Well, I '11 put it on, and I will dissemble myself in 't ; and I would I were the first that ever dissembled in such a gown. I am not tall enough to become the function well, nor lean enough to be thought a good student ; but to be said an honest man and a good housekeeper goes as fairly as to say a careful man and a great scholar. The competitors 10 enter. Enter SIR TOBY and MARIA Sir Toby. Jove bless thee, master Parson. Clown. Bonos dies, Sir Toby ; for, as the old her- mit of Prague that never saw pen and ink very wittily said to a niece of King Gorboduc, * That that is is,' Scene II] Twelfth Night 105 so I, being master Parson, am master Parson ; for, what is that but that, and is but is ? Sir Toby. To him, Sir Topas. Clown. What, ho, I say ! peace in this prison ! Sir Toby. The knave counterfeits well ; a good 20 knave ! Malvolio. \Within\ Who calls there ? Clown. Sir Topas the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio the lunatic. Malvolio. Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to my lady. Clown. Out, hyperbolical fiend 1 how vexest thou this man ! talkest thou nothing but of ladies ? Sir Toby. Well said, master Parson. Malvolio. Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged. 30 Good Sir Topas, do not think I am mad ; they have laid me here in hideous darkness. Clown. Fie, thou dishonest Satan ! I call thee by the most modest terms, for I am one of those gentle ones that will use the devil himself with courtesy ; sayest thou that house is dark ? Malvolio. As hell, Sir Topas. Clown. Why, it hath bay-windows transparent as barricadoes, and the clear-stores towards the south- north are as lustrous as ebony ; and yet com plainest 40 thou of obstruction ? Malvolio. I am not mad, Sir Topas ; I say to you, this house is dark. Clown. Madman, thou errest; I say, there is no io6 Twelfth Night [Activ darkness but ignorance, in which thou art more puzzled than the Egyptians in their fog. Malvolio. I say this house is as dark as ignorance, though ignorance were as dark as hell ; and I say there was never man thus abused. I am no more mad than you are ; make the trial of it in any con- 50 stant question. Clown. What is the opinion of Pythagoras con- cerning wild fowl ? Malvolio. That the soul of our grandam might happily inhabit a bird. Clown. What thinkest thou of his opinion ? Malvolio. I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his opinion. Clown. Fare thee well. Remain thou still in darkness ; thou shalt hold the opinion of Pythagoras 60 ere I will allow of thy wits, and fear to kill a wood- cock lest thou dispossess the soul of thy grandam. Fare thee well. Malvolio. Sir Topas, Sir Topas ! Sir Toby. My most exquisite Sir Topas ! Clown. Nay, I am for all waters. Maria. Thou mightst have done this without thy beard and gown ; he sees thee not. Sir Toby. To him in thine own voice, and bring me word how thou findest him ; I would we were 70 well rid of this knavery. If he may be conveniently delivered, I would he were, for I am now so far in offence with my niece that I cannot pursue with any Scene II] Twelfth Night 107 safety this sport to the upshot. Come by and by to my chamber. \Exeunt Sir Toby and Maria. Clown. [Singing] 'Hey, Robin, jolly Robin, Tell me how thy lady does? Malvolio. Fool ! Clown. ' My lady is unkind, per dy? Malvolio. Fool ! 80 Clown. ' Alas, why is she so ? ' Malvolio. Fool, I say. Clown. * She loves another ' Who calls, ha ? Malvolio. Good fool, as ever thou wilt deserve well at my hand, help me to a candle, and pen, ink, and paper ; as I am a gentleman, I will live to be thank- ful to thee for 't. Clown. Master Malvolio ? Malvolio. Ay, good fool. Clown. Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five 90 wits? Malvolio. Fool, there was never man so notori- ously abused ; I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art. Clown. But as well ? then you are mad indeed, if you be no better in your wits than a fool. Malvolio. They have here propertied me ; keep me in darkness, send ministers to me, asses, and do all they can to face me out of my wits. Clown. Advise you what you say ; the minister is here. Malvolio, Malvolio, thy wits the heavens 100 restore ! endeavour thyself to sleep, and leave thy vain bibble babble. io8 Twelfth Night [Activ Malvolio. Sir Topas 1 Clown. Maintain no words with him, good fellow. Who, I, sir ? not I, sir. God be wi' you, good Sir Topas. Marry, amen. I will, sir, I will. Malvolio. Fool, fool, fool, I say ! Clown. Alas, sir, be patient. What say you, sir ? I am shent for speaking to you. Malvolio. Good fool, help me to some light and no some paper ; I tell thee, I am as well in my wits as any man in Illyria. Clown. Well-a-day that you were, sir ! Malvolio. By this hand, I am. . Good fool, some ink, paper, and light ; and convey what I will set down to my lady. It shall advantage thee more than ever the bearing of letter did. Clown. I will help you to 't. But tell me true, are you not mad indeed ? or do you but counterfeit ? Malvolio. Believe -me I am not; I tell thee true. 120 Clown. Nay, I '11 ne'er believe a madman till I see his brains. I will fetch you light and paper and ink. Malvolio. Fool, I '11 requite it in the highest de- gree; I prithee, be gone. Clown. [Singing] / am gone, sir, And anon, sir, 1 7/ be with you again In a trice, Like to the old Vice, 130 Your need to sustain ; Scene III] Twelfth Night 109 Who, with dagger of lath, In his rage and his wrath, Cries, ah, ha ! to the devil: Like a mad lad, Pare thy nails, dad ; Adieu, goodman devil. [Exit. SCENE III. Olivia's Garden Enter SEBASTIAN Sebastian. This is the air ; that is the glorious sun; This pearl she gave me, I do feel 't and see 't ; And though 't is wonder that enwraps me thus, Yet 't is not madness. Where 's Antonio, then ? I could not find him at the Elephant ; Yet there he was, and there I found this credit, That he did range the town to seek me out. His counsel now might do me golden service, For though my soul disputes well with my sense ^ That this may be some error, but no madness, 10 Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune So far exceed all instance, all discourse, That I am ready to distrust mine eyes And wrangle with my reason that persuades me To any other trust but that I am mad Or else the lady 's mad ; yet, if 't were so, She could not sway her house, command her fol- lowers, no Twelfth Night [Activ Take and give back affairs and their dispatch With such a smooth, discreet, and stable bearing As I perceive she does. There 's something in 't 20 That is deceivable. But here the lady comes. Enter OLIVIA and Priest Olivia. Blame not this haste of mine. If you mean well, Now go with me and with this holy man Into the chantry by ; there, before him, And underneath that consecrated roof, Plight me the full assurance of your faith, That my most jealous and too doubtful soul May live at peace. He shall conceal it Whiles you are willing it shall come to note, What time we will our celebration keep 30 According to my birth. What do you say ? Sebastian. I '11 follow this good man and go with you, And, having sworn truth, ever will be true. Olivia. Then lead the way, good father ; and heavens so shine, That they may fairly note this act of mine ! \_Exeunt. 'ENTER PRIEST' ACT V SCENE I. Before Olivia's House Enter Clown and FABIAN Fabian. Now, as thou lovest me, let me see his letter. Clown. Good Master Fabian, grant me another request. Fabian. Any thing. Clown. Do not desire to see this letter. Fabia7i. This is, to give a dog, and in recom- pense desire my dog again. in 1 12 Twelfth Night [Actv Enter DUKE, VIOLA, CURIO, and Lords Duke. Belong you to the Lady Olivia, friends ? Clown. Ay, sir ; we are some of her trappings. 10 Duke. I know thee well ; how dost thou, my good fellow ? Clown. Truly, sir, the better for my foes and the worse for my friends. Duke. Just the contrary ; the better for thy friends. Clown. No, sir, the worse. Duke. How can that be ? Clown. Marry, sir, they praise me and make an ass of me ; now my foes tell me plainly I am an ass. 20 So that by my foes, sir, I profit in the knowledge of myself, and by my friends I am abused ; so that, conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives make your two affirmatives, why then, the worse for my friends and the better for my foes. Duke. Why, this is excellent. Clown. By my troth, sir, no ; though it please you to be one of my friends. Duke. Thou shalt not be the worse for me ; there's gold. 30 Clown. But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I would you could make it another. Duke. O, you give me ill counsel. Clown. Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this f once, and let your flesh and blood obey it. Scene I] Twelfth Night I IJ Duke. Well, I will be so much a sinner to be a double-dealer ; there 's another. Clown. Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play, and ^ the old saying is, the third pays for all. The triplex, sir, is a good tripping measure ; or the bells of Saint 40 Bennet, sir, may put you in mind, one, two, three. Duke. You can fool no more money out of me at this throw ; if you will let your lady know I am here to speak with her, and bring her along with you, it v may awake my bounty further. Clown. Marry, sir, lullaby to your bounty till I come again. I go, sir, but I would not have you to think that my desire of having is the sin of covetous- ness ; but, as you say, sir, let your bounty take a nap, I will awake it anon. [Exit. 50 Viola. Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me. Enter ANTONIO and Officers Duke. That face of his I do remember well v ; Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmear'd As black as Vulcan in the smoke of war. A bawbling vessel was he captain of, For shallow draught and bulk unprizable, With which such scathful grapple did he make With the most noble bottom of our fleet That very envy and the tongue of loss 59 Cried fame and honour on him. What's the matter? i Officer. Orsino, this is that Antonio That took the Phoenix and her fraught from Candy; TWELFTH NIGHT 8 H4 Twelfth Night [Act V And this is he that did the Tiger board, When your young nephew Titus lost his leg. Here in the streets, desperate of shame and state, In private brabble did we apprehend him. Viola. He did me kindness, sir, drew on my side, But in conclusion put strange speech upon me. I know not what 't was but distraction. Duke. Notable pirate ! thou salt-water thief ! 70 What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies Whom thou, in terms so bloody and so dear, Hast made thine enemies ? Antonio. Orsirio, noble sir, Be pleas 'd that I shake off these names you give me ; Antonio never yet was thief or pirate, Though I confess, on base and ground enough, Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither. That most ingrateful boy there by your side, From the rude sea's enrag'd and foamy mouth Did I redeem ; a wrack past hope he was. 80 His life I gave him, and did thereto add My love, without retention or restraint, 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 fafee cunning, Not meaning to partake with me ifi danger, Taught him to face me out of his aequaintance, And grew a twenty-years-removed thing 9 , 90 Scene I] Twelfth Night 115 While one would wink, denied me mine own purse Which I had recommended to his use Not half an hour before. Viola. How can this be ? Duke. When came he to this town ? Antonio. To-day, my lord ; and for three months before, No interim, not a minute's vacancy, Both day and night did we keep company. 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 ; 100 But more of that anon. Take him aside. Olivia. What would my lord, but that he may not have, Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable ? Cesario, you do not keep promise with me. Viola. Madam ! Duke. Gracious Olivia, Olivia. What do you say, Cesario ? Good my lord, Viola. My lord would speak, my duty hushes me. Olivia. If it be aught to the old tune, my lord, It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear no As howling after music. Duke. Still so cruel ? n6 Twelfth Night [Actv Olivia. Still so constant, lord. Duke. What, to perverseness ? you uncivil lady, To whose ingrate and un auspicious altars My soul the faithfulPst offerings hath breath'd out That e'er devotion tender'd I What shall I do ? Olivia. Even what it please my lord, that shall be- come 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 120 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- chief. 130 I '11 sacrifice the lamb that I do love, To spite a raven's heart within a dove. Viola. And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly, To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die. Olivia. Where goes Cesario ? Viola. 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. Scene I] Twelfth Night 117 If I do feign, you witnesses above Punish my life for tainting of my love ! Olivia. Ay me, detested ! how am I beguil'd I 140 Viola. Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong ? Olivia. Hast thou forgot thyself! is it so long? Call forth the holy father. Duke. Come, away 1 Olivia. Whither, my lord ? Cesario, husband, stay. Duke. Husband ! Olivia. Ay, husband ; can he that deny ? Duke. Her husband, sirrah ! Viola. No, my lord, not I. Olivia. Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear That makes thee strangle thy propriety ! Fear not, Cesario, take thy fortunes up ; Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art 150 As great as that thou fear'st. Enter Priest O, welcome, father 1 Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence, Here to unfold, though lately we intended To keep in darkness what occasion now Reveals before 7 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, iiS Twelfth Night [Actv Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings, 160 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. 170 Viola. My lord, I do protest Olivia. O, do not swear ! Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear. Enter SIR ANDREW Sir Andrew. For the love of God, a surgeon ! Send one presently to Sir Toby. Olivia. What 's the matter ? Sir Andrew. 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. Olivia. Who has done this, Sir Andrew ? 180 Sir Andrew. The count's gentleman, one Cesario ; we took him for a coward, but he 's the very devil incardinate. Duke. My gentleman, Cesario ? Scene I] Twelfth Night 1 1 9 Sir Andrew. '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. Viola. 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. 190 Sir Andrew. If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me ; I think you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb. Enter SIR TOBY and 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 Toby. That 's all one ; he has hurt me, and there 's the end on 't. Sot, didst see Dick surgeon, SOt ? 200 Clown. O, he 's drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone ; his eyes were set at eight i' the morning. Sir Toby. Then he 's a rogue, and a passy-measures pavin. I hate a drunken rogue. Olivia. Away with him ! Who hath made this havoc with them ? Sir Andrew. I '11 help you, Sir Toby, because we '11 be dressed together. Sir Toby. Will you help ? an ass-head and a cox- comb and a knave, a thin-faced knave, a gull ! 120 Twelfth Night [Actv Olivia. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd tO. 210 [Exeunt Clown, Fabian, Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew. Enter SEBASTIAN Sebastian. 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! Sebastian. Antonio, O my dear Antonio ! 220 How have the hours rack'd and tortur'd me Since I have lost thee ! Antonio. Sebastian are you ? Sebastian. Fear'st thou that, Antonio ? Antonio. How have you made division of your- self ?- An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian ? Olivia. Most wonderful ! Sebastian. Do I stand there? I never had a brother ; Nor can there be that deity in my nature, Scene I] Twelfth Night 121 Of here and every where. I had a sister, 230 Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd. Of charity, what kin are you to me ? What countryman ? what name ? what, parentage ? Viola. 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. Sebastian. A spirit I am indeed ; But am in that dimension grossly clad ") Which from the womb I did participate. 240 Were you a woman, as the rest goes even, I should my tears let fall upon your cheek, And say, Thrice-welcome, drowned Viola ! Viola. My father had a mole upon his brow. Sebastian. And so had mine. Viola. And died that day when Viola from her birth Had number'd thirteen years. Sebastian. O, that record is lively in my soul ! He finished indeed his mortal act That day that made my sister thirteen years. 250 Viola. 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 '11 bring you to a captain in this town, 122 Twelfth Night [Actv 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 Math been between this lady and this lord. 260 Sebastian [To Olivia} So comes it, lady, you have been mistook ; But nature to her bias drew in that. You wou]fjL .hf&r 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. [To Viola} Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times Thou never shouldst love woman like to me. 270 Viola. 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. Viola. 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, ajid follower of my lady's. Olivia. |& shall enlarge him, Fetch Malvolio hither \ 280 Scene I] Twelfth Night 123 And yet, alas, now I remember me, They say, poor gentleman, he 's much distract. Re-enter Clown with a letter, and FABIAN A most extracting frenzy of mine own From my remembrance clearly banish 'd his.- How does he, sirrah ? Clown. 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 't you to-day morning, but as a madman's epistles are no gospels, so it skills not much when 290 they are delivered. Olivia. Open 't, and read it. Clown. Look then to be well edified when the fool delivers the madman. [Reads] ' By the Lord, madam? Olivia. How now! art thou mad ? Clown. No, madam, I do but read madness : an your ladyship will have it as it ought to be, you must allow vox. Olivia. Prithee, read i' thy right wits. 300 Clown. So I do, madonna, but to read his right wits is to read thus ; therefore perpend, my princess, and give ear, Olivia. [To Fabian] Read it you, sirrah. Fabian. [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 124 Twelfth Night [Actv 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 310 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.' Olivia. Did he write this ? Clown. Ay, madam. Duke. This savours not much of distraction. Olivia. See him deliver'd, Fabian ; bring him hither. [Exit Fabian. My lord, so please you, these things further thought on, To think me as well a sister as a wife, 320 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. \ToViola\ Your master quits you, 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. Olivia. A sister 1 you are she. Scene I] Twelfth Night 125 Re-enter FABIAN, with MALVOLIO Duke. Is this the madman ? Olivia. Ay, my lord, this same. 330 How now, Malvolio ! Malvolio. Madam, you have done me wrong, Notorious wrong. Olivia. Have I, Malvolio? no. Malvolio. 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, 340 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 ipiprison'd, Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest, And made the most notorious geek and gull That e'er invention play'd on ? tell me why. Olivia. Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing, Though, I confess, much like the character, But out of question 't is Maria's hand. 350 And now I do bethink me, it was she First told me thou wast mad ; then cam'st in smiling, 126 Twelfth Night [Actv And in such forms which here were presupposed 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. Fabian. Good madam, hear me speak, And let no quarrel nor no brawl to come Taint the condition of this present hour, 360 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 370 That have on both sides pass'd. Olivia. Alas, poor fool, how have they baffled thee ! Clown. 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 gagged.' And thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges. 380 Scene I] Twelfth Night 127 Malvolio. I '11 be reveng'd on the whole pack of you. [Exit. Olivia. 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, 390 Orsino's mistress and his fancy's queen. \Exeunt all, except Clown. Clown. [Sings] 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. 400 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. 128 Twelfth Night [Actv But when I came unto my beds, With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, With toss-pots still had drunken heads, For the rain it raineth every day. A great while ago the world begun, 9 With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, 410 But that 's all one, our play is done, And we '// strive to please you every day. [Exit. NOTES Vj>N TWELFTH NIGHT 9 DEPART ITIC ART SPINSTERS AND KNITTERS" NOTES INTRODUCTION THE METRE OF THE PLAY. It should be understood at the outset that metre, or the mechanism of verse, is something altogether distinct from the music of verse. The one is matter of rule, the other of taste and feeling. Music is not an absolute necessity of verse; the metrical form is a necessity, being that which consti- tutes the verse. The plays of Shakespeare (with the exception of rhymed pas- sages, and of occasional songs and interludes) are all in unrhymed or blank verse; and the normal form of this blank verse is illus- 131 132 Notes trated by the first line of the present play : " If music be the food of love, play on." This line, it will be seen, consists of ten syllables, with the even syllables (2d, 4th, 6th, 8th, and loth) accented, the odd syllables (ist, 3d, etc.) being unaccented. Theoretically, it is made up of five feet of two syllables each, with the accent on the second sylla- ble. Such a foot is called an iambus (plural, iambuses, or the Latin iambi), and the form of verse is called iambic. This fundamental law of Shakespeare's verse is subject to certain modifications, the most important of which are as follows : 1. After the tenth syllable an unaccented syllable (or even two such syllables) may be added, forming what is sometimes called a female line ; as in the twenty-fourth line of the first scene : " So please my lord, I might not be admitted." The rhythm is complete with the second syllable of admitted, the third being an extra eleventh syllable. In i. 2. 34 (" That he did seek the love of fair Olivia") we have two extra syllables, the rhythm being complete with the second syllable of Olivia. 2. The accent jn any part of the verse may be shifted from an even to an odd syllable ; as in lines 5 and 7 of the first scene : " O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound ******* Stealing and giving odour ! Enough ; no more ! " In both lines the accent is shifted from the second to the first syllable. This change occurs very rarely in the tenth syllable, and seldom in the fourth ; and it is not allowable in two successive accented syllables. 3. An extra unaccented syllable may occur in any part of the line ; as in lines 7, 9, and 14. In 7 the second syllable of odour is superfluous ; in 9 the second syllable of spirit ; and in 14 the second syllable of even and minute. 4. Any unaccented syllable, occurring in an even place immedi- ately before or after an even syllable which is properly accented, is Notes 133 reckoned as accented for the purposes of the verse ; as, for instance, in lines 2 and 3. In 2 the last syllable of surfeiting, and in 3 the last of appetite are metrically equivalent to accented syllables; and so with the last syllable of violets in 6. Other examples are the third syllable of notwithstanding and the last of capacity in 10, the last of validity in 12, and the last of fantastical in 15. 5. In many instances in Shakespeare words must be lengthened in order to fill out the rhythm : (a) In a large class of words in which e or i is followed by another vowel, the e or i is made a separate syllable; as ocean, opinion, soldier, patience, partial, marriage, etc. For instance, line 39 of the first scene of the present play appears to have only nine syllables, but perfection is a quadrisyllable, as perfections is in i. 5. 306. In i. 5. 265 adorations has metrically five syllables. This lengthening occurs most frequently at the end of the line. (<) Many monosyllables ending in r, re, rs, res, preceded by a long vowel or diphthong, are often made dissyllables; as fare, fear, dear, fire, hair, hour, your, etc. In iii. I. 113 ("Than music from the spheres. Dear lady,") both spheres arjd Dear are dis- syllables. If the word is repeated in a verse, it is often both monosyllable and dissyllable; as in M. of V. iii. 2. 20: "And so, though yours, not yours. Prove it so," where either yours (pre- ferably the first) is a dissyllable, the other being a monosyllable. In/. C. iii. i. 172: " As fire drives out fire, so pity, pity," the first fire is a dissyllable. (*:) Words containing / or r, preceded by another consonant, are often pronounced as if a vowel came between the consonants ; as in i. i. 32: "And lasting in her sad remembrance," where remem- brance is a quadrisyllable (rememb(e) ranee); as in W. T. iv. 4. 76: " Grace and remembrance [rememb(e) ranee] be to you both ! " In i. 2. ii: " The like of him. Know'st thou this country ? " country is a trisyllable (count(e)ry). See also T. of S. ii. I. 158: "While she did call me rascal fiddler" [fidd(e)ler]; AWs Well,\\\ 134 Notes 5.43: "If you will tarry, holy pilgrim" [pilg(e)rim]; C. of E. v. i. 360: "These are the parents of these children" (childeren, the original form of the word). ( d upon thee = " previously pointed out for thy imitation, or such as it was supposed thou wouldst assume after reading the letter" (Steevens). 355. Practice. Trick, or plot ; as often. Shrewdly sharply, keenly; as in Ham. i. 4. i: "The air bites shrewdly," etc. For pass upon, cf. iii. I. 44 above. 364. Upon. In consequence of. Cf. Much Ado, iv. I. 225 : "she died upon his words" ; Id. v. I. 258: "And fled he is upon this villany," etc. 365. Against. " In opposition or repugnance to" (Schmidt). 366. Importance. Importunity ; as in K. John, ii. 1.7: " At our importance hither is he come." So important = importunate, in Much Ado, ii. i. 74, Lear, iv. 4. 26, etc. Daniel remarks here: "Now Maria writ the letter at the 'importance 'of her own love of mischief; the plot originated entirely with her, though Sir Toby and the rest eagerly joined in it." 222 Notes [Act v 369. Pluck on. Excite. Cf. M. for M. ii. 4. 147 : "To pluck on others" ; Rich. III. iv. 2. 65 : "sin will pluck on sin." Pluck is a favourite word with S. 370. If that. See on i. 2. 48 above. 372. Poor fool. For the use of fool as a term of endearment or pity, cf. Much Ado, ii. I. 326, Lear, v. 3. 305, etc. Baffled = treated contemptuously ; as in Rich. II. i. I. 170, etc. 374. Thrown. Theobald changed this to " thrust," the word in the letter, ii. 5. 157 above ; but the variation may have been pur- posely introduced by the poet, " possibly from his knowing, by pro- fessional experience, the difficulty of quoting with perfect accuracy " (Staunton). It is more probable, however, that it was due to the carelessness in these little matters of which we find so many illustrations in the plays. Wright refers to an instance in A. IV. (v. 3. 13) where in reading a letter the original (as given in iii. 2. 21 fol.) is materially varied from. See also on ii. 5. 92 above ; and cf. notes on i. 4. 3 and ii. 5. 212. 379. Whirligig. Properly a top; like 7^ in L. L. L. iv. 3. 167 and v. I. 70. 384. He hath not told us, etc. " In this line and the preceding we have true Shakespearian touches. First, we have the Duke, with his gentle nature and his new joy, eager to have the injured though crabbed purist brought back and soothed into partaking of the general harmony; and then we have the indication of Orsino's naturally keen interest respecting the Captain who had saved Viola, while it also serves the dramatic purpose of showing that the prom- ise of interrogating the Captain in reference to Malvolio^s suit has not been lost sight of, although the interest of the play's last scene does not require that point to be further pursued" (Clarke). 385. Convents. Is convenient, suits ; or, possibly, as others ex- plain it = invites. Elsewhere (in M. for M. v. i. 158, Hen. VIII. v. i. 52, and Cor. ii. 2. 58) it is = calls together, summons. 391. Fancy's. Love's. Cf. i. I. 14 and ii. 4. 33 above. 393. When that, etc. Sta.unton remarks ; " It is to be regretted, Scene I] Notes 22J perhaps, that this ' nonsensical ditty,' as Steevens terms it, has not long since been degraded to the foot-notes. It was evidently one of those jigs with which it was the rude custom of the Clown to gratify the groundlings \_Ham. iii. 2. 12] upon the conclusion of a play. These absurd compositions, intended only as a vehicle for buffoonery, were usually improvisations of the singer, tagged to some popular ballad-burden, or the first lines of various songs strung together in ludicrous juxtaposition, at the end of each of which the performer indulged in hideous grimace and a grotesque sort of* Jump Jim Crow ' dance." The editors and commentators generally agree with Staunton and Steevens. Knight, on the other hand, says : " We hold the Clown's epilogue song to be the most philosophical clown's song upon record ; and a treatise might be written upon its wisdom. It is the history of a life, from the con- dition of 'a little tiny boy,' through 'man's estate,' to decaying age ' when I came into my bed ' ; and the conclusion is, that what is true of the individual is true of the species, and what was of yesterday was of generations long passed away for ' A great while ago the world begun.' " Mr. John Weiss also says : " When the play is over . . . Feste is left alone on the stage. Then he sings a song which conveys to us his feeling of the world's impartiality ; all things proceed according to law ; nobody is humoured ; people must abide the consequences of their actions, ' for the rain it raineth every day.' . . . The grave insinuation of this song is touched with the vague soft bloom of the play. . . . How gracious has Shakespeare been to mankind in this play ! He could not do otherwise than leave Feste all alone to pronounce its benediction." Furness, after quoting this, adds : " It is delightful to find a reader, since Knight, on whom the charm of this song is not lost." In Lear (iii. 2. 74 fol.) the Fool sings this stanza of a song : " He that has and a little tiny wit, With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, 224 Notes [Act v Must make content with his fortunes fit, For the rain it raineth every day." Furness thinks that this may have been the same song as in the present play, " but changed by the Fool to suit the occasion." On the other hand, it might be suggested that the occurrence of the same song in two plays perhaps tells against the theory that it is Shakespeare's, whether it is worthy of him or not. And a little, etc. And is often used as an expletive in popular songs. Cf. Oth. ii. 3. 92 : " King Stephen was and a worthy peer " (ist quarto and most modern eds. omit " and" ). 401. Wive. For the verb, cf. M. of V. ii, 9. 83, Oth. iii. 4. 64, etc. APPENDIX COMMENTS ON SOME OF THE CHARACTERS VIOLA. Viola is not only one of the loveliest of Shakespeare's heroines, but she surpasses them all in the unselfishness of her love; or, since true love is always unselfish, we will say that her unselfish- ness is subjected to severer tests than that of any other of these heroines, and never fails in the ordeal. As another puts it, " in her we see the full beauty and pathos of faithful self-abnegation." She not only cannot tell her love, but she is compelled to be the messenger and advocate of the man she loves in secret to another woman ; and she discharges the unwelcome duty with absolute loyalty. When Olivia refuses to see her, she might have escaped the painful task, but she persists in gaining admittance to the lady, and urges her master's suit as earnestly as if it had been her own. When Olivia resorts to the trick of sending the ring after her by Malvolio, her conduct is marked by equal presence of mind and delicate regard for the reputation of the Countess. Some of the critics (see note on ii. 2. 12) have failed to appreciate this, and have changed the text from " She took the ring of me " to " She took no ring of me," which is what most women would have said, but which would have betrayed the trick to Malvolio. Viola, who is quick to perceive that Olivia has given him the message that he m$y not suspect her motive in sending the ring, accepts the false version as true in order to screen the lady from the consequences of her stratagem. She tells a falsehood to prevent the detection of Olivia's falsehood, and gives the Duke no hint of it, though it might have been the means of disenchanting him. TWELFTH NIGHT 15 225 226 Appendix Julia, in the Two Gentlemen of Verona^ is sent with a mes- sage of love to Sylvia by the faithless Proteus, but she is not enjoined to urge his suit, but merely to give Sylvia a ring and ask for the picture the lady had promised to Proteus to get rid of his importunities. Julia discharges the duty, but takes the opportunity of referring indirectly to her own claims upon the false lover, thus damaging his prospect of gaining his suit and winning for herself the sympathy of Sylvia. Her task is easy compared with that of Viola, but she does not perform it with the same forget fulness of her own interests. Viola's position is the more trying from the fact that she has no confidant as Julia and Rosalind have. She " never tells her love " she cannot tell it, as Olivia does, though she can be eloquent in describing it as the love of another while pleading for the Duke with the Countess, and in hinting of it to him in the pathetic story of her fictitious sister. When Olivia tellsj^iola (Cesario) that "she loves her (him), the girl, though she sees the ludicrous side of the avowal, does not treat the deluded lady as Rosalind, in a similar position, treats Phebe. To be sure, the Countess is a very different person from the pert little shepherdess, and this naturally affects the bearing of Viola towards her ; but, though Olivia has scorned the love of the Duke as Phebe has scorned that 6T~Silvius, Viola does not refer to that fact at all, but merely continues to urge Yhe suit of her master, after assuring the lady that her own suit is hopeless. She pities Olivia, as she tells her, but does not laugh at her. Shakespeare often puts his heroines into male apparel, but they assume it for various reasons and behave differently in it. Viola is driven to adopt it by the necessities of her situation. Shipwrecked on the coast of a strange land, she can think of no shelter except in the court of the Duke, about whom she has heard, but as he is a bachelor she cannot seek service there unless her sex is disguised. Rosalind and Portia play the part of young men with no hesitation when it answers their purposes, and recognize the humorous aspect Appendix 227 of the transformation from the first. Rosalind, whatever " hidden woman's fear " may be in her heart, will " have a swashing and a martial outside," " As many other mannish cowards have That do outface it with their semblances." Portia will walk and talk " like a fine bragging youth," and practise " a thousand raw tricks " of such fellows. Julia will attire herself as a " well-reputed page," knit up her hair in silken strings " with twenty odd-conceited true-love knots," and go boldly from Verona to Milan in pursuit of her good-for-nothing lover, though at the time she does not suspect his perfidy and plans the journey only because she longs to see him. Imogen, when she gets the message from her husband to meet him at Milford Haven, decides to start at once with the faithful Pisanio, and when he leaves her after she has read the letter of Posthumus urging her murder, she follows the advice of Pisanio and puts on the male attire which he has provided in anticipation of the emergency. Like Viola, she does it under the pressure of necessity, though of a far more painful character, but she wears the unfamiliar dress with no apparent embarrassment. / But Viola is never quite at ease in her disguise. She finds no pleasure or amusement in it like Rosalind and "Portia. This is shown by her occasional allusions to it, and her -hints that she is not whaf she seems hints that show her self-consciousness rather than any fear or suspicion that the disguise will be detected or suspected. When she finds that Olivia is in love with her, she half reproaches herself for the part she is playing, though driven to it in self-defence : ( " Disguise, I see thou art a wickedness Wherein the pregnant enemy does much." She feels that she is in a predicament out of which she can see no escape at present. She recognizes the humorous side of it, but finds no amusement in it, her pity for Olivia being the predominant r feeling : 228 Appendix " How will this fadge ? my master loves her dearly; And I, poor monster, fond as much on him ; And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me. What will become of this ? As I am man, My state is desperate for my master's love ; As I am woman, now alas the day ! What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe ! O time ! thou must untangle this, not I ; It is too hard a knot for me to untie ! " Even more trying and perplexing is the position in which she finds herself when the duel with Sir Andrew is impending and she is led to believe that he is a formidable antagonist. Her instinc- tive timidity and his natural though ridiculous cowardice are most laughably set forth ; and we who are in the secret are almost sorry when Antonio interposes and puts a stop to the threatened passage at arms. We cannot help feeling a curiosity to see which would prove the better man of the two. It is not impossible that, in sheer desperation, the maiden might have assumed a semblance of valour that would have driven the pusillanimous knight from the field. Viola is not lacking in true courage when love draws it forth. When the Duke, confounding her with her brother, believes that she has treacherously gained the heart and hand of Olivia and threatens her with death, she offers her bosom to the knife and cries : " And I most jocund, apt, and willingly, To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die ! " But a happy life with the man she has loved in secret, not a dread- ful death at his hands, is to be her destiny. The intricacies of the plot are unravelled, and when Orsino, recalling her hints at her con- cealed passion, now finds that she is a woman, and says, " Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times Thou never shouldst love woman like to me, " Appendix 229 we know that she can tell her love at last, and that she means all that she speaks when she turns to him and exclaims : " 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." ORSINO. One might feel some doubt at first whether the Duke was quite worthy of Viola, and the transfer of his devotion from Olivia to her may seem unnaturally sudden. But Shakespeare has really prepared the way for it. The Duke, as the poet has taken pains to show by many little touches, is greatly attracted by his new page, so much so that others in the court notice it almost from the first. Valentine says to Viola (i. 4. i) : " If the duke continue these favours towards you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanced; he hath known you but three days, and already you are no stranger." Orsino indicates his feeling toward the supposed boy by the confi- dence he reposes in him, and by the affectionate tone he soon adopts in speaking to him. " Good youth," " good Cesario," " dear lad," and the like, are the terms in which he addresses him. The page's talk about love has perhaps as much to do with the affection he inspires as his pleasing personality. "Thou dost speak mas- terly," the Duke declares, and he suspects at once that the youth must have been in love himself. Besides, Orsino is not so much in love as he imagines he is. He, reminds us of Romeo, in the salad days of his love for Rosaline. VnmTgjjipri pf i^fcjx)mantic andj>gnHmrnt a 1 typ* fancy that jhe; are in love sometimes again and again before a genuine pas- sfim- takes pnsses&iuii of them! "AsT Rosalind expresses it, Cupid may have clapped them on the shoulder, but they are really heart- whole. They are capable of love, have a longing for love, and are apt to become enamoured of the first attractive young woman that comes in their way. Such love is like that of the Song in the Merchant of Venice : 2jo Appendix " It is engender'd in the eyes, By gazing fed, and fancy dies In the cradle where it lies." It lives only until it is displaced by a healthier, more vigorous love, capable of outliving the precarious period of infancy. The Duke himself seems at times to be aware of the nature of his passion, or of similar instances in other people. He tells Viola, supposing her to be of his own sex : " For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn, Than women's are;" and in his next speech he says that unless the woman is younger than the man, his affection "cannot hold the bent" that is, retain its tension or strength because feminine beauty in that case will the sooner fade : " For women are as roses, whose fair flower, Being once display'd, doth fall that very hour." The unspoken inference is that the man's love will not outlast the faded bloom of beauty. A moment afterwards, when Viola, who with feminine insight may have a notion of the instability of his love, hints at the possi- bility of his getting over it, as a woman would have to do if- he could not love her, he contradicts what he has just said, declaring that " There is no woman's sides Can bide the beating of so strong a passion As love doth give my heart, no woman's heart So big to hold so much. . . . Make no compare Between that love a woman can bear me And that I owe Olivia." But this rhapsodical passion is a lazy languorous one after all. It does not drive him, as it would if it were the overmastering love Appendix 23 1 he imagines it to be, to press his suit in person, despite the lady's resolution to shut herself up in solitary grief for the loss of her brother. He does his wooing by proxy, like Claudio in Much Ado, whose love is of the same weak sentimental sort. Viola herself in- directly reproves him for this lack of spirit in his love-making when she tells Olivia that, were she the wooer, she would not take any second-hand denial from the lady : 41 In your denial I would find no sense ; I would not understand it." Olivia asks : " Why, what would you ? " and Viola replies : " Make me a willow cabin at your gate, And call upon my soul within the house ; Write loyal cantons of contemned love, And sing them loud even in the dead of night; Halloo your name to the reverberate hills, And make the babbling gossip of the air Cry out Olivia ! O, you should not rest Between the elements of air and earth But you should pity me ! " When at last in the final scene of the play Orsino meets Olivia face to face, and she checks him as he begins to plead his case in person, he asks : " Still so cruel ? " " Still so constant," she replies ; and when he, after complaining of her perversity and ingratitude in rejecting him, weakly asks, " What shall I do ? " she answers : " Even what it please my lord, that shall be- come him." Then he -gets angry and threatens both her and Cesario, whom he suspects her of loving, with death. This is quite , consistent with the sentimental selfishness of his feeling for Qliyia./^ There is nothing of the true lover in it> It is the petulant wrath 23 2 Appendix of the child that cannot have its way. Compare what Shakespeare says in the ii6th Sonnet : " Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. O, no ! it is an ever fixed mark, That looks on tempests and is never shaken ; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth 's unknown, although his height be taken. Love 's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come ; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom." Love that is love indeed alters not with disappointment or sepa- ration or the lapse of time, but endures " even to the edge of doom." The appearance of Sebastian and the disclosure of the sex of Viola save both her and Olivia from the fate threatened by Orsino, who promptly transfers his affections to the maiden for whom he has had a kindly feeling in her disguise. Let us not say, however, that he transfers to her the kind of affection that he had for the Countess. We will hope that it is the true love of which that sen- timental fancy was but the poor semblance ; or, if it is not such at the moment, that it will grow to be such and what we know of Viola assures us that this will inevitably come to pass. And the Duke is not a bad match for the lovely and loving Viola. Olivia, though she could not return his love, said of him : " Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble, Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth ; In voices well divulg'd, free, learn'd, and valiant; And in dimension and the shape of nature A gracious person," Appendix 233 We will believe that " they lived happily ever after," and that the Countess was equally fortunate in the exchange of Cesario for Sebastian. MARIA. Maria is unrivalled in her way among Shakespeare's women. So much mischief, fun, and vivacity were never before or since put into one little body. If she had not been a diminutive sprite-like personage, she could never have been so alert and active in mischief. Her petite frame is packed full of merriment and sportiveness. She is like Puck in petticoats, and like Puck she would say : " And those things do best please me That befall preposterously." Not a person in the house or that comes into the house escapes the attacks of her wit and waggery. When Viola comes disguised as the Duke's page, and Olivia is inclined to dismiss her briefly, Maria, ever on the watch for a chance to give somebody a rap, chimes in with " Will you hoist sail, sir ? here lies your way ; " but Viola, who is not without wit, though she seldom has opportunity in the play to show it, is -here a match for her pert assailant, and promptly retorts the nautical impudence in the same figurative fashion, " No, good swabber, I am to hull here a little longer." Before Maria recovers sufficiently from the sharp repartee to strike back, the Countess sends her from the room. Maria does not spare her companions in mischief. She berates them for their " caterwauling," as she calls it, though, when Mal- volio comes in and joins in the attack, she turns from them to assail him, and when he goes out bids him " go shake his ears." All the subsequent plot against Malvolio is of her devising, and with what zest she follows it up ! She is as ready to join in a practical joke started by others as to carry out one of her own concocting. When Toby and Fabian are urging Sir Andrew to challenge Viola, she zealously seconds them. And she enjoys it all so much that she becomes utterly merciless in pursuing it. When 234 Appendix the others are disposed to think that the joke has been carried far enough, she will not hear of its being given up. Fabian says when they are tormenting Malvolio, " Why, we shall make him mad indeed." "The house will be the quieter" is her only reply. The Clown is the only one who is a match for her, but perhaps this is due to the fact that he knows her liking for Toby, about which she does not fancy being joked. In the end Toby marries her, but we cannot imagine that he ever became her master. SIR TOBY AND SIR ANDREW. Toby, as some of the critics have noted, has a certain resemblance to Falstaff, but it is to the fat knight in his decadence. He has Falstaffs love for a practical joke, and his unscrupulousness in getting money from his friends by humouring their weaknesses. He " bleeds " Sir Andrew with- out mercy, fooling him with hopes of winning the hand of Olivia, much as lago does Roderigo. It may seem at first to be in a meaner way than lago's, for Olivia is his kinswoman, and he is enjoying her hospitality at the time ; but we must not imagine that he believes Andrew could ever succeed in his suit. Andrew is an unmitigated fool from first to last. He never says or does a sensible thing. All his talk is marked by a plentiful lack of wit, and much of it is a stupid echoing of Toby, for whom he has a boobyish admiration. When Toby says of Maria that she "adores" him, Andrew follows with "I was adored once too," catching at the word with the senseless iteration of the parrot. Toby says, " I could marry this wench for this device." " So could I too " is the echo. " And ask no other dowry with her than such another joke," says Toby. " Nor I neither " chimes in Andrew ; and so the antiphony goes on. There is a touch of humour in the innocent readiness with which Andrew refers to his reputation as both knave and fool. In the noisy carousal at night he proposes that they sing the catch called " Thou knave." The fool says, " I shall be constrained in 't to call thee knave, knight." " T is not the first time I have con- strained one to call me knave " is the reply, Later, he and his Appendix 235 friends are overhearing Malvolio as he rehearses in the garden what he means to say to Toby : " Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish knight." " That 's me, I warrant you," Andrew says to his companions. " One Sir Andrew," continues Malvolio ; and the knight cries, " I knew 't was I, for many do call me fool ! " MALVOLIO. From the first Malvolio was a favourite character on the stage. In the earliest known reference to the play, in the manuscript Diary of John Manningham, the trick played upon the steward is the chief feature mentioned ; and Leonard Digges, in the verses prefixed to the edition of Shakespeare's Poems printed in 1640, alludes to the character, in connection with Falstaff, Bene- dick, and Beatrice, as attracting crowds to the theatre : " lo, in a trice The cockpit, galleries, boxes, all are full To hear Malvolio, that cross-garter'd Gull." Malvolio, however, has been often misunderstood, not only by the average reader of the play, but by critics and commentators. The stage tradition of former days made him a " low comedy ' character ; an idea against which Charles Lamb protested, declar- ing that the steward was not essentially ludicrous, and that an air of dignity should be thrown about the part : " He might have worn his gold chain with honour in one of our old Roundhead families, in the service of a Lambert or a Lady Fairfax." LHe is the trusted and valued steward of Olivia, who is seriously troubled when she is led to suspect that he is apparently becoming insane. * He is no fool except so far as his inordinate self-conceit makes him so ; and upon this weakness the conspirators base their plot against him. The high opinion his mistress has of him, and the favour which on this account she has shown him, prepare the way for his falling into the trap set for him.J In ii. 3. 151 Maria says of Malvolio, "Marry, sometimes he is a kind of Puritan." From this it has been assumed by some of the 236 Appendix editors that the steward was a Puritan, and they have quoted his "cross-gartering" as being a Puritan fashion. Steevens cites Barton Holyday (1593-1666) : 11 Had there appear'd some sharp cross-garter'd man, Whom their loud laugh might nickname Puritan." But Maria does not call Malvolio a Puritan; she simply says that " sometimes he is a kind of Puritan "; that is, he has something of the ways and manners of the Puritans. Like them he is indifferent to "cakes and ale," and takes life very seriously. When Sir Andrew understands her to mean that the steward really is a Puri- tan, she corrects him : " The devil a Puritan that he is, or anything constantly but a time-pleaser," etc. Malvolio at no time talks like a Puritan, as he would naturally have done if he had been one when he came in to reprove the midnight roysterers (ii. 3). It is the noise and disturbance they are making at that unseasonable hour for which he reproaches them, not the sin of their drunken revelry, against which a Puritan would have inveighed. Falstaff was a better Puritan when he played the part of one at the Boar's Head (i Hen. IV. ii. 4. 421 fol.) and lectured Prince Hal on his profligate habits. As to the cross-gartering, Halliwell-Phillipps remarks: "In Shakespeare's time the fashion was yet in credit, and Olivia's detestation of it arose, we may suppose, from thinking it coxcombi- cal. . . . But when Barton Holyday wrote [toward the middle of the seventeenth century], the fashion was exploded, and was re- tained only by Puritans and old men." He cites, among other illustrations of this, Ford, Lovers Melancholy (1629) : "As rare an old gentleman as ever walk'd cross-garter'd." FESTE. The Clown is one of the best of Shakespeare's profes- sional fools, no two of whom are alike in all respects. They have as distinct an individuality as his more serious and more important characters. One of the notable peculiarities of Feste is the vein of sentiment which appears in him at times. He is a singer, and his Appendix 237 repertory is not confined to comic songs, but includes lyrics of love and death, like the one, "Come away, come away, death," of which the Duke was so fond "that old and antique song" which suited his mood better than "light airs and recollected tunes of these most brisk and giddy-paced times," and which Feste could render with so much feeling that Viola says of it : " It gives a very echo to the seat Where Love is thron'd." There is, moreover, much wisdom in his foolery on occasion; as when Toby comes in drunk and Olivia asks, " What's a drunken man like, fool?" and Feste replies: "Like a drowned man, a fool, and a madman. One draught above heat makes him a fool; the second mads him; and a third drowns him." He can^criticise his own punning and quibbling ; as when, after joking in that way with Viola, he says : " To see this age ! A sen- tence is but a cheveril glove to a good wit ; how quickly the wrong side may be turned outward ! " and in the same scene when he says : " Who you are and what you would are not of my welkin I might say element, but the word is over-worn." Shakespeare is Jpnd of satirizing the affectations in the language of his day, but he generally does it through serious characters ; as when Hamlet and Horatio ridicule Osric's fine talk, or when Lorenzo comments on Launcelot's word -twisting (M. of V. iii. 5. 70 fol.), comparing it with that of " fools that stand in better place [of higher social rank] who for a tricksy word defy the matter " sacrificing the sense for the sake of a quibble. So when Sebastian says to Feste, " I prithee, vent thy folly somewhere else," the Clown catches at the word vent: "Vent my folly! he has heard that word of some great man, and now applies it to a fool. Vent my folly ! I am afraid this great lubber, the world, will prove a cockney." He is shrewd to see the weaknesses of his superiors in rank. He knows that Toby is a fool indeed he " has a most weak pia mater" He can slyly reprove Olivia's excessive mourning for her 23 8 Appendix I brother who is " in heaven." He understands the fickle vagaries of the Duke, to whom he says : " Now the melancholy god protect thee; and the tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffeta, for thy mind is a very opal ! I would have men of such constancy put to sea, that their business might be every thing and their intent every where; for that 's it that always makes a good voyage of nothing." He can play the part of the parson, Sir Topas, quoting Latin and Scripture, and catechizing the imprisoned Malvolio on the Pythag- orean doctrine of metempsychosis in short, as he says, he is "for all waters," equal to any demand, dramatic, musical, or other, that may be made upon him. He is the most versatile of fools, a favourite with everybody in the play except the sour Malvolio, and with every reader of the play, unless he be like Malvolio, incapable of appreciating the mingled wit and wisdom of such foolery as Feste's. THE TIME-ANALYSIS OF THE PLAY As Mr. P. A. Daniel shows in his paper " On the Times or Dura- tions of the Action of Shakspere's Plays" (see on i. 4. 3 above), the action of this play occupies three days, with an interval of three days between the first and second. The events of the first three scenes may all be supposed to take place in one day. In i. 4. 3, Valentine says " he hath known you but three days" (see note thereupon), which ihows that time to have elapsed since i. 3. The remaining scenes of act i., with the first three of act ii., occur on this second day, at the close of which (ii. 3. 204) Sir Toby and Sir Andrew go off to " burn some sack," as it is "too late to go to bed." In ii. 4. 3, the Duke asks for the song "we heard last night" which indicates that only one night has intervened; and the rest of the play furnishes matter for but a single " May morning" (iii. 4. 152). It is difficult to understand when Sir Toby and Maria found time to be married, as the bride- Appendix 239 groom has left the stage in the very same scene, drunk and with a broken head. But Biondello tells us in T. of S. (iv. 4. 99), " I knew a wench married in an afternoon as she went to the gar- den for parsley to stuff a rabbit"; and possibly Sir Toby snatched a spare moment for an impromptu wedding, and so crammed more matter into this busy May morning. Maria had evidently been manoeuvring for the match all along, and would willingly " be married under a bush like a beggar " (A. Y. L. iii. 3. 85) rather than run the risk of delay. LIST OF CHARACTERS IN THE PLAY The numbers in parentheses indicate the lines the characters have in each scene. &Duke: i. 1(31), 4(27); ii. 4(69); v. 1(94). Whole no. Sebastian: ii. 1(36); iii. 3(20); iv. 1(17), 3( 2 3); v. Whole no. 128. Antonio: ii. 1(13); iii. 3(33), 4(33); v. 1(28). Whole no. 107. Captain: i. 2(32). Whole no. 32. * Valentine: i. 1(9), 4(5). Whole no. 14. Curio: i. 1(2); ii. 4(5). Whole no. 7. I Sir Toby: i. 3(67), 5(7); ii. 3(63), 5(44); iii. 1(7), 2(36), 4(144); iv. 1(10), 2(13); v. 1(7). Whole no^^T^) Sir Andrew: 1.3(53); ii. 3(51), 5(15); iii. 1(7), 2(12), 4(18) ; iv. 1(7); v. 1(20). Whole no. $ Malvolio: i. 5J^f; ii. 2(45); v - i09)' Whole Fabian: ii. 5(33); iii. 2(25), 4(40) ; v. 1(30). Whole no. 128. 3 Clown: i. 5(66); ii. 3(33)4(29); "i- 1(42); iv. 1(20), 2 (77); v z (77) Whole no.jg^X) Priest: v. 1(8). Whole no. 8. \st Officer : iii. 4(6); v. 1(6). Whole no. 12. 2d Officer: iii. 4(4). Whole no. 4. 140 Appendix Servant: iii. 4(4). Whole no. 4. */ Olivia: 1.5(127); iii. 1(54), 4(45); iv. 1(16), 3(12); v. 1(67). Whole no.^2T, JL Viola: T2(34), 4(13), 5(75); " 2(28), 4(32); iii. 1(69), 4(56); v. 1(46). Whole no.<2p Maria: i. 3(31), 5(25); ii- 3UO 5( 2 ); - 2(17), 4(29); iv. 2(6). Whole no. ^/ In the above enumeration, parts of lines are counted as whole lines, making the total in the play greater than it is. The actual number of lines in each scene (Globe edition numbering) is as follows: i. 1(41), 2(64), 3(151), 4(42), 5(330); ii. 1(49), 2(42), 3(208), 4(127), 5(227); i". 1(176), 2(90), 3(49), 4(433); iv. 1(69), 2(141), 3(35); v. 1(418). Whole no. in the play, 2692. INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES EXPLAINED a (omitted), 184 baited, 189 burn some sack, 176 abatement, 143 barful, 155 but (= than), 154 above heat, 158 barren (=dull), 157 buttery-bar, 150 abuse (= deceive), 189 bawbling, 211 by (= hard by), 208 access (accent), 154 bawcock, 197 by (play upon), 187 accost, 150 bay-windows, 205 by and by (= presently). Actaeon, 143 beagle, 175 198 adheres (= coheres), 196 bear-baiting, 151, 189 by th' ears, 183 admire (= wonder), 197 adorations (five sylla- bed of Ware, the, 192 beef, 151 C's, etc., 183 bles), 164 before me, 175 canary, 150 advance (= raise), 181 belike, 195, 199 Candy, 211 advantage (verb), 207 bent, 177 cantons, 164 aflfectioned, 175 beseech you, 189 caper (play upon), 152 against, 221 beshrew, 172, 204 carpet consideration, 199 agone (= ago), 216 besides (preposition), 206 case (= skin), 214 allow (= prove), 148 bespake you fair, 216 Castiliano vulgo, 150 allowed, 157 bethink me, 221 Cataian, 172 alone, 143, 162 am I made ? 195 betrothing, 214 bias, 218 catch (noun), 169 caught with tickling, 180 an (= one), 166 bibble babble, 207 celebration, 208 anatomy, 192 bird-bolts, 157 champaign, 186 and (expletive), 224 blazon, 165 chantry, 208 anothergates, 216 blent, 163 check (in falconry), 184, antique, 176 bloody argument, 195 1 88 apt (= ready), 221 aqua-vita^, 186 blows (= puffs up), 182 board (verb), 150 cherry-pit, 197 cheveril, 187 argument (= proof), 191 bonds (play upon), 187 civil, 195 Arion, 146 bonos dies, 205 clear-stores, 205 as (omitted), 167, 179 botched up, 204 cloistress, 144 as much to say as, 157 botcher, 156 close in, 148 aspect (accent), 154 bottom (= vessel), 211 cloyment, 179 ass (play upon), 175 brabble, 211 cockatrice, 198 as yet (= still), 219 branched (velvet), 182 codling, 159 attend (= attend to), 154 breach (= breaking), 166 collier (= devil), 197 attend (= wait for), 199 breast (= voice), 169 comedian, 160 at the stave's end, 220 breath (= voice), 171 come near me, 196 at this throw, 210 bred (= begotten), 146 come to note, 209 ay word, 174 brock, 184 comfortable, 163 broke my head, 215 commerce, 198 back-trick, 152 Brownist, 191 commodity, 188 baffled, 222 bum-baily, 198 compact (accent), 214 TWELFTH NIGHT 1 6 24! 242 Index of Words and Phrases compare (noun), 179 degree (=step), 190 eyes had lost tongue, 167 competitors, 205 delivered (= released), 220 eyes set, 216 complexion, 176, 181 delivered i,= shown), 147 comptible, 160 demure travel of regard, fadge, 1 68 conceit (verb), 200 182 faithfull'st, 212 conclusions to be as denay, 180 fall (= cadence), 139 kisses, 209 deny (= refuse) , 204 fancy (=love), 143, 181, conduct (= escort), 199 desperate of shame and 222 consanguineous, 172 state. 211 fat (= heavy), 212 consequently, 196 determinate, 166 favour (= face), 159, 176, cons state, 175 dexteriously, 157 201 constant (= consistent), diluculo surgere, 169 fear rn> colours, 155 205 dimension (= body), 164, feature, 201 conster, 188 218 feelingly (= exactly), 175 continent (= container), discourse (= reasoning), fellow, 196 219 208 fertile tears, 164 contract ( = betrothal) , dishonest, 156 Feste, 176 214, 218 dismount thy tuck, 199 finder of madmen, 197 contracted (= betrothed) , disorders, 173 firago, 200 218 dispute (= argue), 208 fire-new, 191 convents (verb), 222 dissemble, 204 flame-coloured, 153 coranto, 153 count (== duke), 146, 154 distempered, 157 distract (= distracted), 219 flatter with, 165 fleshed, 203 country (trisyllable), 146 distraction, 211 fond (= dote), 169 county (= count), 165 double-dealing, 216 fool, 222 couplet (= couple), 202 do you rest, to, 213 fools' zanies, 157 cousin, 220 draw the curtain, 163 for (= because), 191 coxcomb (=head), 215 draw three souls out of for all waters, 206 coystril, 149 one weaver, 171 forbid not, 167 cozier, 173 driving (= drifting), 146 forgive (= excuse from), credit, 207 dry (= sapless), 156 161 Cressida, 188 dry hand, 150 formal, 184 cross-gartered, 185 duello, by the, 201 fortunate-unhappy, 186 crow, 157 duke (= count) , 146 four elements, the, 169 crowner, 159 fourteen years' purchase, cruelty (concrete), 165, Egyptians in their fog, 205 203 178 crumbs (for cleaning gold Egyptian thief, the, 212 element (= sky), 143, 197 fraught (noun\ 211 free (= careless), 177 chains), 174 Elysium (= play upon?), fresh in murmur, 147 cubiculo, 192 cucullus non facit mona- i45 mployment, 183 from (= away from), 161, 221 chum, 156 nchantment, 189 fruitless, 205 cunning, 163 ncounter, 189 function, 214 curst, 191 ndeavour thyself, 206 cut (=curtal), 175 nlarge (= release), 219 gall (in ink), 192 cypress, 177, 190 ntertainment, 162, 167 galliard, 152 stimable wonder, 166 gaskins, 156 dally nicely, 187 day-bed, 182 xcept before excepted, 148 geek, 221 gentleness (= favour), 167 deadly (= deathlike), 164 xpenses, 187 giant (ironical), 162 dear (dissyllable), 189 xpress myself, to, 166 giddily, 178 dear (= heartfelt), 212 decay (transitive), 157 xpressure, 175 xtent (= conduct), 204 gift of a grave, 149 ginger, 174 deceivable, 208 xtracting, 219 gives manhood approba- dedication, 212 xtravagancy, 166 tion, 198 Deeply in, 182 eye-offending, 144 goes even ( agrees), 218 Index of Words and Phrases 243 go hunt, 143 instance, 208 manikin, 192 golden (,= valuable), 208 golden shaft, 144 in standing water, 159 interchangement of rings, manners (singular), 203 marble-breasted, 213 good life, 170 214 masterly (adverb), 176 goodman devil, 207 into (= unto), 212 maugre, 190 good my mouse, 157 in voices well divulged, May morning, 197 go shake your ears, 174 165 me (ethical dative), 191 grace (= virtue), 210 is (with plural), 179, 184 me (redundant), 148 gracious, 164 it (indefinite), 220 meddle (= have to do), Greek (= jester), 203 199 grey eyes, 164 jade me, 186 mercies, 211 grise, 190 jealous, 208 Messaline, 166, 218 gust, 149 jealousy, 194 metal of India, 180 jets (= struts), 181 mettle, 180, 221 had rather, 170, 215 jewel, 198 midsummer madness, 196 haggard (noun), 188 Jezebel, 181 minion, 213 hale (verb), 192 happily (= haply), 206 joinder, 214 jump (= agree), 218 miscarry, 196 misprision, 156 hart (play upon), 143, 204 Mistress Mall's picture, having (= property), 201 kickshawses, 151 i5 2 haviour, 198 King Gorboduc, 205 modest (= moderate), 148. heart (play upon), 143, 205 204 abel, 164 mollification, 162 heat (= course), 143 apsed, 195 monster, 169 hermit of Prague, the, 205 ate (adverb), 147 mortal arbitrement, 200 high fantastical, 143 easing, 158 motions (= emotions), 176 his, 195 hob-nob, 199 eave to leave, 178 Legion, 197 mouse, 157 music from the spheres, hold acquaintance with, eman, 170 189 146 honesty, 173 enten, 155 ess (= inferior), 147 mute (noun), 148 mutton and capers, 152 horrible (adverb), 198 et (= hinder), 218 hull (verb), 161 Lethe, 204 natural (play upon), 149, humour (= capricious- icense of ink, 191 172 ness), 154 ie rich, 145 nay word, 174 humour of state, 182 ies (= lodges), 187 newly (= lately), 213 ife in it, 151 new map, the, 193 I am dog, 171 ighter, 221 nine (eggs of wren), 192 idleness (= pastime), 157 imed, 196 nonpareil, 164 impeticos thy gratillity, ist (= bound), 189 non-regardance, 213 170 ittle (= a little), 215 nor never none, 191 importance (= importu- ived upon the sea, 146 north, the, 191 nity), 221 iver (seat of love, etc.), nor will not, 166 impressure, 184 179, 184, 191, 192 notable, 211 incardinate, 215 ove-broker, 191 notorious, 221 incensement, 199 ullaby (verb), 210 numbers (= measure), 184 in contempt of question, unacy, 161 . 183 O (= cry of pain) , 185 incredulous, 196 M, O, A, I, 184 oath sake, 200 Indies, the, 194 madonna, 156 'Od's lifelings! 215 indifferent (adverb"), 164 maidenhead, 163 o'erflourished, 202 in grain, 163 maidhood, 190 of (in adjurations), 218 ingrateful, 212 make the welkin dance, of (=on), 186, 195 in little, 196 171 old age, the, 177 in manners, 166 malapert, 203 on (= of), 220 ill my star*, 185 malignancy, 166 one self king, 145 244 Index of Words and Phrases opal, 178 presupposed upon, 221 silly sooth, 177 open (adverb), 195 prevented, 189 sir (= lord), 196 opposite (= opponent), private (= privacy), 197 Sir (priestly title), 200, 185, 192, 199 profound (= sage) , 160 204 orb (= earth), 187 proper (= comely), 190 skilless, 194 orbed continent, 219 proper (= own), 220 skills (= matters), 220 othergates, 216 proper-false, 168 skipping (= wild, mad), out (= out of pocket) , 175 propertied, 206 161 over-swear, 219 provident, 146 'slid, 202 owe (=own), 166 pure (adverb), 212 Puritan, 174, 175 'slight, 181, 191 sneck up, 173 Pandarus, 188 Pythagoras, 206 so (= so be it), 156 parish-top, 149 soft! 183, 185 part (adverb), 201 participate, 218 quick (= lively), 142 Quinapalus, 156 sometime, 213 sonnet, 195 part of death, 178 quirk, 199 sooth (= truth), 177 passages (= acts), 193 quit (= release), 221 Sophy, 186, 200 pass upon, 187 sound (= clear), 155 passy-measures pavin, receiving, 190 sound (or south ?), 139 216 recollected terms, 176 sowter, 184 Patience (personified), record (= remembrance), speaks madman, 158 179 218 spheres (dissyllable), 189 peascod, 159 recover (=gain), 175 spinsters, 177 pedant, 193 peevish, 165 reliques, 195 relish, 204 spirit (monosyllable), 142 spleen, 192 Peg-a-Ramsey, 172 remember me, 219 split, 145 Penthesilea, 175 remembrance (quadrisyl- spoke (= said), 154 perchance, 145 lable), 144 squash, 159 perdy, 206 renegado, 193 staniel, 184 perfection (by marriage) , renown (verb), 195 state (= authority), 182 144, 165, 177 retention, 212 state (= chair of state) , perfection (quadrisylla- reverberate, 164 182 ble), 145 round (= plain), 173 state (= estate), 165 perpend, 220 rubious, 154 stitches, 192 personage, 159 rudesby, 203 stock (= stocking), 153 perspective, 217 rule (= conduct), 174 stone-bow, 182 pia mater, 158 stoup, 169 pickle-herring, 158 sack, 176 stout (= proud), 186 picture of we three, 169 sad (= sober, grave), 195 Strachy, 181 piece of Eve's flesh, 156 said (= called) , 204 strange (= distant), 186, Pigrogromitus, 170 Saint Anne, 174 217 pilchards, 187 Saint Bennet, 210 strangeness, 203 pipe ( = voice), 154 pitch (in falconry), 142 pluck on, 222 save (= except), 191 scab, 183 scathful, 2ii strangle thy propriety, 213 stuck (= thrust), 200 point-devise, 186 school i' the church, 193 substractors, 149 points, 156 scout (verb), 198 suffers under probation, politician, 191 possess (= inform), 175 season (metaphor), 144 self (adjective), 145 185 suited (= dressed), 218 post (= messenger), 165 semblative, 155 supportance, 201 pound (plural), 215 she (= woman), 163 swabber, 161 practice (= trick), 221 sheep-biter, 180 swarths, 175 praise (= appraise), 164 shent, 207 sweet and twenty, 171 prank (verb), 179 sheriff's post, 159 sweet-heart, 150 pregnant (= ready), 168, shrewdly, 221 sweeting, 171 189 shrewishly, 159 syllogism, 156 Index of Words and Phrases 245 tabor, 187 trunks, 202 weeds (= garments), 218 taffeta, 178 tuck (= rapier), 199 welkin, 171, 188 tainting, 213 well-a-day that, 207 take air and taint, 197 unauspicious, 212 well-favoured, 159 take thy fortunes up, 213 unchary, 198 were better, 168 take up (quarrel), 200 undertaker, 201 westward-ho, 190 tall, 149, 204 unfirm, 177 what (= what a), 184 tang, 185, 196 ungird thy strangeness, what (= who), 147, 158 Tartar, 187 taste (= try), 189, 199 203 unhatched, 199 what's to do? 195 what time, 209 taxation, 162 unkind, 201 where, 218 tender (= cherish), 213 unmatchable, 160 whiles, 195, 209 testril, 170 unprizable, 211 whipstock, 170 that (conjunctional affix), unprofited, 154 whirligig, 222 148, 165, 191, 213, 222 upon, 221 windy side, 197 that (=in that), 142 upshot, 206 wit and safety, 217 these set kind, 157 use (= usury), 188 witchcraft, 212 this great lubber, the world, 202 use (verb), 177 usurp, 160 with (= by), 157 wive (verb), 224 those poor number, 145 woodcock, 183, 206 thou (verb), 192 thought (= love ?), 179 validity (= value), 142 venerable, 201 worn (= forgotten), 177 worth (= wealth), 194 thought is free, 150 vent, 202 wrack, 212 throw, 210 vice, 207 wrangle, 208 Tiger (name of ship), 211 viol-de gamboys, 149 tillyvally, 172 VOX, 220 yare, 199 time pleaser, 175 vulgar proof, 190 yellow stockings, 185, 195 tinkers, 173 yeoman of the wardrobe, to (infinitive), 165 wainropes, 192 181 tongues (play upon), 151 was (= had been), 207 you (redundant), 164 trade, 189 watch, 182, 214 you were best, 156, 195 tray-trip, 186 water (in diagnosis), 197 triplex, 210 waxen hearts, 168 zanies, 157 ROLFE'S ENGLISH CLASSICS Designed for Use in High Schools and Other Secondary Schools Edited by WILLIAM J. 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Price $1.00 A text-book of literature on an original plan, and conform- ing with the best methods of teaching. Admirably designed to guide, to supplement, and to stimu- late the student's reading of American authors. Illustrated with a fine collection of facsimile manuscripts, portraits of authors, and views of their homes and birthplaces. Bright, clear, and fascinating, it is itself a literary work of high rank. The book consists mostly of delightfully readable and yet comprehensive little biographies of the fifteen greatest and most representative American writers. Each of the sketches contains a critical estimate of the author and his works, which is the more valuable coming, as it does, from one who is himself a master. The work is rounded out by four general chapters which take up other prominent authors and discuss the history and conditions of our literature as a whole. The book also contains a complete chronology of the best American literature from the beginning down to the present period. Each of the fifteen biographical sketches is illustrated by a fine portrait of its subject and views of his birthplace or residence and in some cases of both. They are also accom- panied by each author's facsimile manuscript covering one or two pages. The book contains excellent portraits of many other authors famous in American literature. Copies sent^ prepaid, on receipt of the price. American Book Company NEW YORK CINCINNATI CHICAGO (S. 91) A History of English Literature BY REUBEN POST HALLECK, M.A. (Yale) Cloth, 12mo, 499 pages. Illustrated . . Price $1.25 Halleck's History of English Literature is a concise and interesting text-book of the history and development of Eng- lish literature from the earliest times to the present. While the work is sufficiently simple to be readily comprehended by high school students, the treatment is not only philosophic, but also stimulating and suggestive, and will naturally lead to original thinking. The book is a history of literature and not a mere collection of biographical sketches. Only enough of the facts of an author's life are given to make students interested in him as a personality, and to show how his environment affected his work. The author's productions, their relation to the age, and the reasons why they hold a position in literature, receive treatment commensurate with their importance. One of the most striking features of the work consists in the way in which literary movements are clearly outlined at the beginning of each of the chapters. Special attention is given to the essential qualities which differentiate one period from another, and to the animating spirit of each age. At the end of each chapter a carefully prepared list of books is given to direct the student in studying the original works of the authors treated. He is told not only what to read, but also where to find it at the least cost. Copies will be sent \ prepaid \ on receipt of the price. American Book Company NEW YORK * CINCINNATI CHICAGO < S. QO) Text-Books in Grammar for Advanced Grades BASKERVILL AND SEWELL'S ENGLISH GRAMMAR 90 cents An advanced grammar for use in High School, Academy, and College classes. It combines in a remarkable degree a clear and concise statement of the facts of the language, based on its reputable use in literature, with rational methods of teaching and applying the same. LYTE'S ADVANCED GRAMMAR AND COMPOSITION 75 cents For use in High Schools, Normal Schools, and other Pre- paratory Schools. Based on the author's popular '* Grammar and Composition " and embodying the improvements sug- gested by successful class room work. MAXWELL'S ADVANCED LESSONS IN ENGLISH GRAMMAR 60 cents For use in Higher Grammar Grades and High Schools. It embraces all the theory and practice necessary during the last two years of a grammar school course or throughout a high school course. It is intended to serve first, as a text-book^ and second, as a book of reference. POWELL AND CONNOLLY'S RATIONAL GRAM- MAR OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE . . 60 cents This new grammar differs widely in treatment and termi- nology from other text-books in English. The subject is developed logically, and every point is made simple and clear. The practical side of the study the correct use of language in speech and writing is especially emphasized. Copies sent, prepaid, on receipt of the price. American Bo'ok Company NEW YORK CINCINNATI * CHICAGQ (S. & 3 ) Important Text-Books in Rhetoric BY ADAMS SHERMAN HILL Boylston Professor of Rhetoric and Oratory in Harvard University BEGINNINGS OF RHETORIC AND COM- POSITION $1.25 This book is designed primarily to meet the needs of pupils in secondary schools who are learning to express themselves with the pen ; at the same time it contains so much infor- mation that is new in presentation and permanent in value that it is well adapted to more mature minds. It shows the young writer how to present what he has to say in the best English within his reach and in the form best adapted to his purpose. No supplement with exercises is required in connection with this work, as the book is complete in itself. Nearly two hundred exercises are introduced to aid the pupil in the most practical way. FOUNDATIONS OF RHETORIC . . $1.00 The object of this book js to train boys and girls to say in written language, correctly, clearly, and effectively, what they have to say. It gives a minimum of space to tech- nicalities and a maximum of space to essentials. In language singularly direct and simple it sets forth fundamental prin- ciples of correct speaking, and accompanies each rule with abundant illustrations and examples. PRINCIPLES OF RHETORIC . . . $1.20 This popular work has been almost wholly rewritten, and is enlarged by much new material. The treatment is based on the principle that the function of rhetoric is not to pro- vide the student of composition with materials for thought, nor yet to lead him to cultivate style for style's sake, but to stimulate and train his powers of expression to enable him to say what he has to say in appropriate language. AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY (S. 87) HISTORIES FOP SECONDARY SCHOOLS ESSENTIALS IN ANCIENT HISTORY Half Leather, 528 Pages. Price, $J.SO By ARTHUR MAYER WOLFSON, Ph.D. Assistant in History, De Witt Clinton High School^ New York City In Consultation with ALBERT BUSHNELL HART, LL.D. Professor of History ', Harvard University convenient manual presents the essentials in ancient history as a unit in a manner both comprehensible and interesting to first-year students in secondary schools. It is prepared on the plan recommended by the Committee of Seven, and at the same time meets every requirement of the Regents of the State of New York. It combines in one volume Greek and Roman history with that of the Eastern nations, and pays more attention to civilization than to mere constitutional development. The paragraph headings are given in the margins, thus making the text continuous and easy to read. At the end of each chapter are lists of topics for further research, bibli- ographies of parallel reading, and references to both ancient and modern authorities. A special feature is the giving of a brief list of selected books, not exceeding $25 in cost, and suitable for a school library. The numerous maps show only the places mentioned in the text, thus avoiding confusion from too much detail. The illustrations, although attractive, have been chosen primarily with the purpose of accurately explain- ing the text. AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY, Publishers