SB EB7 lf OUaaami General Editor LINDSAY TODD DAMON Professor of English, Brown University ADDISON AND STEELE Sir Roger de Coverly Papers ABBOTT ADDISON AND STEELE Selections from The Taller and The Spectator ABBOTT American Short Stories ROYSTER AUSTIN Pride and Prejudice WARD BROWNING Selected Poems REYNOLDS Builders of Democracy GREENLAW BUN VAN The Pilgrim's Progress LATHAM BURKE Speech on Conciliation with Collateral Readings WARD BURNS Selected Poems \ 1 , MAKSTT CARLYLE Essay on Burns I l vol. MARSH CHAUCER Selections GREENLAW COLERIDGE The Ancient Mariner \ ., , Mnrmv LOWELL Vision of Sir Launfal $ X vol. MOC COOPER The Last of the Mohicans LEWIS COOPER The Spy DAMON DANA Two Tears Before the Mast WESTCOTT DEFOE Robinson Crusoe HASTINGS Democracy Today GAUSS DE QUINCEY The Flight of a Tartar Tribe FRENCH DE QUINCEY Joan of Arc and Selections MOODY DICKENS A Christmas Carol, etc. BROADUS DICKENS A Tale of Two Cities BALDWIN DICKENS David Copperfield BALDWIN DRYDEN Palamon and Arcite COOK ELIOT, GEORGE Silas Marner HANCOCK ELIOT, GEORGE The Mill on the Floss WARD EMERSON Essays and Addresses HEYDRICK English Poems From POPE, GRAY, GOLDSMITH, COLERIDGE, BYRON, MACAULAY, ARNOLD, and others SCUDDER English Popular Ballads HART Essays English and American ALDEN Familiar Letters, English and American GREENLAW FRANKLIN Autobiography GRIFFEN French Short Stories SCHWEIKERT GASKELL (Mrs.) Cranford HANCOCK GOLDSMITH The Vicar of Wake field MORTON HAWTHORNE The House of the Seven Gables HERRICK HAWTHORNE Twice-Told Tales HERRICK AND BRUERE HUGHES Tom Brown's School Days DE MILLF IRVING Life of Goldsmith KRAPP IRVING The Sketch Book KRAPP Hafee Cnglistf) Cla*tc continue* IRVING Tales of a Traveller and parts of The Sketch Book KRAPP LAMB Essays of Elia BENEDICT LONGFELLOW Narrative Poems POWELL LOWELL Vision of Sir LaunfalSee Coleridge MACAULAY Essays on Addtson and Johnson NEWCOMER MACAULAY Essays on Clive amd Hastings NEWCOMER MACAULAY Goldsmith, Frederic the Great, Madame D'Arblay NEW- COMER MACAULAY Essays on Milton and Addtson NEWCOMER MILTON L' Allegro, II Penseroso, Comus, and Lycidas NEILSON MILTON Paradise Lost, Books I and II FARLEY Modern Plays, A Book of COFFMAN Old Testament Narratives RHODES One Hundred Narrative Poems TETER PALGRAVE The Golden Treasury NEWCOMER PAR KM AN The Oregon Trail MACDONALD POE Poems and Tales, Selected NEWCOMER POPE Homer's Iliad, Books I, VI, XXII, XXIV CRESSY AND MOOL READE The Cloister and the Hearth DE MlLLE RUSKIN Sesame and Lilies LlNN Russian Short Stories SCHWEIKERT SCOTT Lady of the LakeMOODf SCOTT Lay of the Last Minstrel MOODY AND WlLLARD SCOTT Marmion MOODY AND WlLLARD SCOTT Ivanhoe SlMONDS SCOTT Quentin DurwardSlMOKDS Selections from the Writings of Abraham Lincoln HAMILTON SHAKSPERE The Neilson Edition Edited by W. A. NEILSON, AS You Like It Macbeth Hamlet Midsummer-Night's Dream Henry V Romeo and Juliet Julius Caesar The Tempest Twelfth Night SHAKSPERE The Merchant of Venice LOVETT SOUTHEY Life of Nelson WESTCOTT STEVENSON Inland Voyage and Travels witt: a Donkey LEONARD STEVENSON Kidnapped LEONARD STEVENSON Treasure Island BROADTJS TENNYSON Selected Poems REYNOLDS * TENNYSON The Princess COPELAND THACKERAY English Humorists CUNLIFFE AND WATT THACKERAY Henry Esmond PHELPS THOREAU Walden BOWMAN Three American Poems The Raven, Snow-Bound , Miles Standish GREEVER Types of the Short Story HEYDRICK VIRGIL Aeneid ALLINSON AND ALLINSON Washington, Webster, Lincoln, Selections from DENNEY SCOTT, FORESMAN AND COMPANY CHICAGO ATLANTA NEW YORK Hafee Cngltef) Classic* REVISED EDITION WITH HELPS TO STUDY SHAKSPERE'S TWELFTH NIGHT OR WHAT YOU WILL EDITED FOR SCHOOL USE BY WILLIAM ALLAN NEILSON PRESIDENT SMITH COLLEGE SCOTT, FORESMAN AND COMPANY CHICAGO ATLANTA NEW YORK COPYRIGHT 1903, 1919 BY SCOTT, FORESMAN AND COMPANY 313.19 PKEFACE. The aim in the volumes of this series is to pre- sent a satisfactory text of each play, modernized in spelling and punctuation, with as full an equip- ment of explanation and comment as is necessary for thorough intelligibility. The first section of the introduction is intended to give the student an idea >f the place of the play in the history of the English drama in general, and of Shakspere's development in particular. The evidence for the date of the play has been given in some detail, as the mere statement of the facts helps to bring home the uncertainty which must be felt as to the authorship of many of the songs scattered through Shakspere's plays. In dealing with the source of the plot, I have given what, after a somewhat elaborate investiga- tion, I regard with some assurance as the truth. But it ought to be said that the view here stated, though accepted by many scholars, differs from that preferred by Dr. Furness in his recent Variorum edition of the play. For the reasons which lead me to differ from a scholar whom every student of Shakspere must regard with gratitude and honor, reference may be made to an article in the Atlantic Monthly for May, 1902. 5 6 PREFACE. The extent to which Shakspere deviates from his source varies in every play, but the deviations themselves are always significant and worthy of the closest study. So far as space permitted, an attempt has been made to indicate the main points of difference between the versions of Biche and Shakspere, and the teacher will find it extremely profitable V ^nake a more elaborate comparison the basis oi his aesthetic interpreta- tion. Such a method is comparatively easy to use. and at the same time affords scope for the most penetrating analysis and the most delicate appreciation that the classroom permits. The text of Apolonius and Silla is accessible in the reprint edited by J. Payne Collier for the Shakspere Society in 1846, in Furness's Vario- rum edition of Twelfth Night, and in Hazlitt's Shakespeare's Library, volume I. For further details on the life and works of Shakspere, the following books may be referred to : Dowden's Shakspere Primer and Shakspere, His Mind and Art; Sidney Lee's Life of William Shakespeare; William Shakespeare, by Barrett Wendell; Shakspere and his Predecessors, by F. S. Boas. The most exhaustive account of the English Drama is A. W. Ward's History of Eng- dsh Dramatic Literature. Both this work and that of Sidney Lee are rich in bibliographical information. For questions of language and grammar see A. Schmidt's Shakespeare Lexicon; PREFACE. 7 J. Bartlett's Concordance to Shakespeare; Little- dale's new edition of Dyce's Glossary to Shake- speare (New York, 1902), and E. A. Abbott's Shakespearian Grammar. For general questions of dramatic construction see Gustav Freytag's Technik des Dramas, translated into English by E. J. MacEwan ; and Dr. Elisabeth Woodbridge's The Drama, its Laws and its Technique. HARVARD UNIVERSITY, April, 1903. CONTENTS PAGE PREFACE 5 INTRODUCTION I. Shakspere and the English Drama . . 11 II. Twelfth Night 29 TEXT . . 43 NOTES 156 WORD INDEX . 186 APPENDIX Helps to Study 195 Theme Subjects . 200 Selections for Class Reading . v . 202 INTEODUCTION. I. SHAKSPERE AND THE ENGLISH DRAMA. The wonderful rapidity of the development of the English drama in the last quarter of the six- teenth century stands in striking contrast to the slowness of its growth before that period. The religious drama, out of which the modern dramatic forms were to spring, had dragged through centu- ries with comparatively little change, and was still alive when, in 1576, the first theatre was built in London. By 1600 Shakspere had written more than half his plays and stood completely master of the art which he brought to a pitch unsurpassed in any age. Much of this extraordinary later progress was due to contemporary causes; but there entered into it also certain other elements which can be understood only in the light of the attempts that had been made in the three or four preceding centuries. In England, as in Greece, the drama sprang from religious ceremonial. The Mass, the centre of The Drama ^he P 11 ^ worship of the Koman before church, contained dramatic mate- shakspere. rial in the gestureg O f . the offici- ating priests, in the narratives contained in the Lessons, and in the responsive singing and chant- 11 12 INTRODUCTION. ing. Latin, the language in which the services were conducted, was unintelligible to the mass of the people, and as early as the fifth century the clergy had begun to use such devices as tableaux vivants of scenes like the marriage in Cana and the Adoration of the Magi to make comprehen- sible important events in Bible history. Later, the Easter services were illuminated by repre- sentations of the scene at the sepulchre on the morning of the Kesurrection, in which a wooden, and afterwards a stone, structure was used for the tomb itself, and the dialogue was chanted by differ* ent speakers representing respectively the angel, the disciples, and the women. From such begin- nings as this there gradually evolved the earliest forms of the MIRACLE PLAY. As the presentations became more elaborate, the place of performance was moved first to the churchyard, then to the fields, and finally to the streets and open spaces of the towns. With this change of locality went a change in the language and in the actors, and an extension of the field from which the subjects were chosen. Latin gave way to the vernacular, and the priests to laymen; and miracle plays representing the lives of patron saints were given by schools, trade gilds, and other lay institutions. A further development appeared when, instead of single plays, whole series such as the extant York, Chester, and Coventry cycles were given, dealing in chrono- SHAKSPERE AND ENGLISH DRAMA. 13 logical order with the most important events in Bible history from the Creation to the Day of Judgment. The stage used for the miracle play as thus developed was a platform mounted on wheels, which was moved from space to space through the streets. Each trade undertook one or more plays, and, when possible, these were allotted with reference to the nature of the particular trade. Thus the play representing the visit of the Magi bearing gifts to the infant Christ was given to the goldsmiths, and the Building of the Ark to the carpenters. The costumes were conventional and frequently grotesque. Judas always wore red hair and a red beard ; Herod appeared as a fierce Saracen ; the devil had a terrifying mask and a tail; and divine personages wore gilt hair. Meanwhile the attitude of the church towards these performances had changed. Priests were forbidden to take part in them, and as early as the fourteenth century we find sermons directed against them. The secular management had a more important result in the introduction of comic elements. Figures such as Noah's wife and Herod became frankly farcical, and whole episodes drawn from contemporary life and full of local color were invented, in which the original aim of edification was displaced by an explicit attempt at pure entertainment. Most of these features were characteristic of the religious drama in gen- 14 INTRODUCTION. eral throughout Western Europe. But the local and contemporary elements naturally tended to become national; and in England we find in these humorous episodes the beginnings of native comedy. Long before the miracle plays had reached their height, the next stage in the development of the drama had begun. Even in very early performances there had appeared, among the dramatis personae drawn from the Scriptures, personifications of abstract qualities such as Kighteousness, Peace, Mercy, and Truth. In the fifteenth century this allegorical tendency, which was prevalent also in the non-dramatic literature of the age, resulted in the rise of another kind of play, the MORALITY, in which all the characters were personifications, and in which the aim, at first the teaching of moral lessons, later became frequently satirical. Thus the most powerful of all the Moralities, Sir David Lindesay's Satire of the Three Estates, is a direct attack upon the corruption in the church just before the Reformation. The advance implied in the Morality consisted not so much in any increase in the vitality of the characters or in the interest of the plot (in both of which, indeed, there was usually a falling off), as in the fact that in it the drama had freed itself from the bondage of having to choose its subject matter from one set of sources the Bible,, the Apocrypha, and the Lives of the Saints SHAKSPERE AND ENGLISH DRAMA. 15 This freedom was shared by the INTERLUDE., a. form not always to be distinguished from the Morality, but one in which the tendency was to substitute for personified abstractions actual social types such as the Priest, the Pardoner, or the Palmer. A feature of both forms was the Vice, a humorous character who appeared under the various disguises of Hypocrisy, Fraud, and the like, and whose function it was to make fun, chiefly at the expense of the Devil. The Vice is historically important as having bequeathed some of his characteristics to the Fool of the later drama. John Heywood, the most important writer of Interludes, lived well into the reign of Elizabeth, and even the miracle play persisted into the reign of her successor in the seventeenth cen- tury. But long before it finally disappeared it had become a mere medieval survival. A new England had meantime come into being and new forces were at work, manifesting themselves in a dramatic literature infinitely beyond anything even suggested by the crude forms which have been described. The great European intellectual movement known as the Renaissance had at last reached England, and it brought with it materials for an unparalleled advance in all the living forms of literature. Italy and the classics, especially, supplied literary models and material. Not only 16 INTRODUCTION. were translations from these sources abundant, *Hit Italian players visited England, and per- formed before Queen Elizabeth. France and Spain, as well as Italy, flooded the literary mar- ket with collections of tales, from which, both in the original languages and in such translations as are found in Paynter's Palace of Pleasure (pub- lished 1566-67), the dramatists drew materials for their plots. These literary conditions, however, did not do much beyond offering a means of expression. For a movement so magnificent in scale as that which produced the Elizabethan Drama, some- thing is needed besides models and material. In the present instance this something is to be found in the state of exaltation which characterized the spirit of the English people in the days of Queen Elizabeth. Politically, the nation was at last one after the protracted divisions of the Reformation, and its pride was stimulated by its success in the fight with Spain. Intellectually, it was sharing with the rest of Europe the exhilaration of the Renaissance. New lines of action in all parts of the world, new lines of thought in all depart- ments of scholarship and speculation, were open- ing up; and the whole land was throbbing with life. In its very beginnings the new movement in Eng- land showed signs of that combination of native tradition and foreign influence which was to char- SHAKSPERE AND ENGLISH DRAMA. 1? acterize it throughout. The first regular English comedy, Udall's Ralph Roister Doister was an adaptation of the plot of the Miles Gloriosus of Plautus to contemporary English life. After a short period of experiment by amateurs working chiefly under the influence of Seneca, we come on a band of professional playwrights who not only prepared the way for Shakspere, but in some instances produced works of great intrinsic worth. The mythological dramas of Lyly with the bright repartee of their prose dialogue and the music ol their occasional lyrics, the interesting experiment^ of Greene and Peele, and the horrors of the tragedy of Kyd, are all full of suggestions of what was to come. But by far the greatest of Shaks- pere's forerunners was Christopher Marlowe, who not only has the credit of fixing blank verse as the future poetic medium for English tragedy, but who in, his plays from Tamburlaine to Edward II. contributed to the list of the great permanent masterpieces of the English drama. It was in the professional society of these men that Shakspere found himself when he came to London. Born in the provincial Bri k yTife. 8 town of Stratford-on-Avon in the heart of England, he was bap- tized on April 26, 1564 (May 6th, according to our reckoning). The exact day of his birth is unknown. His father was John Shakspere, a fairly prosperous tradesman, who iiay be supposed 18 INTRODUCTION. to ha^e followed the custom of his class in edu- cating his son. If this were so, William would be sent to the Grammar School, already able to read, when he was seven, and there he would be set to work on Latin Grammar, followed by read- ing, up to the fourth year, in Cato's Maxims, Aesop's Fables, and parts of Ovid, Cicero, and the medieval poet Mantuanus. If he continued through the fifth and sixth years, he would read parts of Vergil, Horace, Terence, Plautus, and the Satirists. Greek was not usually taught in the Grammar Schools. Whether he went through this course or not we have no means of knowing, except the evidence afforded by the use of the classics in his works, and the famous dictum of his friend, Ben Jonson, that he had " small Latin and less Greek." What we are sure of is that he was a boy with remarkable acuteness of observation, who used his chances for picking up facts of all kinds; for only thus could he hs,ve accumulated the fund of information which he put to such a variety of uses in his writings. Throughout the poet's boyhood the fortunes of John Shakspere kept improving until he reached the position of High Bailiff or Mayor of Stratford. When William was about thirteen, however, his father began to meet with reverses, and these are conjectured to have led to the boy's being taken from school early and set to work. What business he was taught we do not know, and indeed we SHAKSPERE AND ENGLISH DRAMA. 19 have little more information about him till the date of his marriage in November, 1582, to Anne Hathaway, a woman from a neighboring village, who was seven years his c mior. Concerning his occupations in the years immedi ,tely preceding and succeeding his marriage several traditions have come down, of his having been apprenticed as a butcher, of his having taken part in poaching expeditions, and the like but none of these is based upon sufficient evidence. About 1585 he left Stratford, and probably by the next year he had found his way to London. How soon and in what capacity he first became attached to the theatres we are again unable to say, but by 1592 he had certainly been engaged in theatrical affairs long enough to give some occasion for the jealous outburst of a rival play- wright, Eobert Greene, who, in a pamphlet posthumously published in that year, accused him of plagiarism. Henry Chettle, the editor of Greene's pamphlet, shortly after apologized for his connection with the charge, and bore witness to Shakspere's honorable reputation as a man and to his skill both as an actor and a dramatist. Robert Greene, wao thus supplies us with the earliest extant indications of his rival's presence in London, was in many ways a typical figure among the playwrights with whom Shakspere worked during this early period. A member of both universities, Greene came to the metropolis while 20 INTRODUCTION. yet a young man, and there led a life of the most diversified literary activity, varied with bouts of the wildest debauchery. He was a writer of satirical and controversial pamphlets, of romantic tales, of elegiac, pastoral, and lyric poetry, a translator, a dramatist, in fact, a literary jack- of-all-trades. The society in which he lived con- sisted in part of "University Wits" like himself, in part of the low men and women who haunted the vile taverns of the slums to prey upon such as he. "A world of blackguardism dashed with genius," it has been called, and the phrase is fit enough. Among such surroundings Greene lived, and among them he died, bankrupt in body and estate, the victim of his own ill-governed passions. In conjunction with such men as this Shakspere began his life-work. His first dramatic efforts were made in revising the plays of his predeces- sors with a view to their revival on the stage ; and in Titus Andronicus and the first part of Henry VI. we have examples of this kind of work. The next step was probably the production of plays in collaboration with other writers, and to this practice, which he almost abandoned in the middle of his career, he seems to have returned in his later years in such plays as Pericles, Henry VIII., and The Two Nolle Kinsmen. How far Shakspere was of this dissolute set to which his fellow-workers belonged it is impossible to tell; but we know that by and by, as he gained mastery SHAKSPERE AND ENGLISH DRAMA. 21 over his art and became more and more independ- ent in work and in fortune, he left this sordid life behind him, and aimed at the establishment of a family. In half a dozen years from the time of Greene's attack, he had reached the top of his profession, was a sharer in the profits of his theatre, and had invested his savings in land and houses in his native town. The youth who ten years before had left Stratford poor and burdened with a wife and three children, had now become "William Shakspere, Gentleman." During these years Shakspere's literary work was not confined to the drama, which, indeed, was then hardly regarded as a form of literature. In 1593 he published Venus and Adonis, and in 1594, Lucrece, two poems belonging to a class of highly wrought versions of classical legends which was then fashionable, and of which Marlowe's Hero and Leander is the other most famous ex- ample. For several years, too, in the last decade of the sixteenth century and the first few years of the seventeenth, he was composing a series of sonnets on love and friendship, in this, too, following a literary fashion of the time. Yet these give us more in the way of self -revelation than anything else he has left. From them we seem to be able to catch glimpses of his attitude towards his profession, and one of them makes us realize so vividly his perception of the tragic risks of his surroundings that it is set down here: 22 INTRODUCTION. O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide, The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, That did not better for my life provide Than public means which public manners breeds. Thence comes it that my name receives a brand, And almost thence my nature is subdued To what it works in, like the dyer's hand: Pity me then and wish I were renewed; Whilst, like a willing patient, I will drink Potions of eisel 'gainst my strong infection; No bitterness that I will bitter think, Nor double penance to correct correction. Pity me then, dear friend, and I assure ye Even that your pity is enough to cure me. It does not seem possible to avoid the inferences lying on the surface in this poem ; but whatever confessions it may imply, it serves, too, to give us the assurance that Shakspere did not easily and blindly yield to the temptations that surrounded the life of the theatre of his time. For the theatre of Shakspere's day was no very reputable affair. Externally it appears to us now The Eliza- a Yer ^ m ^agre apparatus almost bethan absurdly so, when we reflect on the grandeur of the compositions for which it gave occasion. A roughly circular wooden building, with a roof over the stage and over the galleries, but with the pit often open to the wind and weather, having very little scenery and practically no attempt at the achievement of stage-illusion, such was the scene of the production of some of the greatest SHAKSPERE AND ENGLISH DRAMA. 23 imaginative works the world has seen. Nor was the audience very choice. The more respectable citizens of Puritan tendencies frowned on the theatre to such an extent that it was found advis- able to place the buildings outside the city limits, and beyond the jurisdiction of the city fathers. The pit was thronged with a motley crowd ol petty tradesfolk and the dregs of the town; the gallants of the time sat on stools on the stage, "drinking" tobacco and chaffing the actors, their efforts divided between displaying their wit and their clothes. The actors were all male, the women's parts being taken by boys whose voices were not yet broken. The costumes, frequently the cast-off clothing of the gallants, were often gorgeous, but seldom appropriate. Thus the suc- cess of the performance had to depend upon the excellence of the piece, the merit of the acting, and the readiness of appreciation of the audience. This last point, however, was more to be relied upon than a modern student might imagine. Despite their dubious respectability, the Eliza- bethan play -goers must have been of wonderfully keen intellectual susceptibilities. For clever feats in the manipulation of language, for puns, happy alliterations, delicate melody such as we find in the lyrics of the times, for the thunder of the pentameter as it rolls through the tragedies of Marlowe, they had a practiced taste. Qualities which we now expect to appeal chiefly to the 2* INTRODUCTION- closet student were keenly relished by men who could neither read nor write, and who at the same time enjoyed jokes which would be too broad, and stage massacres which would be too bloody, for a modern audience of sensibilities much less acute in these other directions. In it all we see how far-reaching was the wonderful vitality of the time. This audience Shakspere knew thoroughly, and in his writing he showed himself always, with shakspere's whatever growth in permanent ar- Dramatio tistic qualities, the clever man of nt ' business with his eye on the mar- ket. Thus we can trace throughout the course of his production two main lines: one indicative of the changes of theatrical fashions ; one, more subtle and more liable to misinterpretation, show- ing the progress of his own spiritual growth. The chronology of Shakspere's plays will prob- ably never be made out with complete assurance, but already much has been ascertained (1) from external evidence such as dates of acting or pub- lication, and allusions in other works, and (2) from internal evidence such as references to books or events of known date, and considerations of metre and language. The following arrangement represents what is probably an approximately correct view of the chronological sequence of his works, though scholars are far from being agreed upon many of the details. SHAKSPERE AND ENGLISH DRAMA. 26 TRAGEDIES. [1596, 97) . . . Romeo and Juliet (revised about VI. Titus Andronicus ...>.... . . . Julius Caesar . . . Hamlet ... Othello . . . Macbeth . . . King Lear . . . Timon of Athens . . . Antony and Cleopatra . . . Coriolanus COMEDIES. HISTORIES, ve's Labor's Lost ?o Gentlemen of Verona medy of Errors 1. 2. 3. Henry Richardlll.. Richard II. . . rchant of Venice King John . . dsummer Night's Dream I's Well that Ends Well ming of the Shrew 1. 2. Henry I rry Wives of Windsor . . Henry V. . . . ich Ado about Nothing You Like It relfth Night ' '.? '. s . . >asure for Measure. ricles mbeline 1 : x~ ?,, rri^i^ . . > : : a : : fl M ' ' fl 1:3 -i : ^ ^3 -^2 H "S o SS-^ 3S g o > o JHO SME?!SS lO CO O Oi O i 1 I I o ! I . H i-H 1 H -^~ to oT Oi O Oi o o o r-4 T-H iH TH CQ e O O C O D C 1 1 T- T o ^ m t- GO os D ?D ?D O O ?C H rH i-H i r-t rH < T ? T D" c H H O CO H H ?f- INTRODUCTION. The first of these groups contains three comedies of a distinctly experimental character, and a number of chronicle-histories, some of which, like the three parts of Henry VI., were almost cer- tainly written in collaboration with other play- wrights. The comedies are light, full of ingen- ious plays on words, and the verse is often rhymed. The first of them, at least, shows the influence of Lyly. The histories also betray a considerable delight in language for its own sake, and the Marlowesque blank verse, at its best eloquent and highly poetical, not infrequently becomes ranting, while the pause at the end of each line tends to become monotonous. No copy of Romeo and Juliet in its earliest form is known to be in existence, and the extent of Shakspere's share in Titus Andronicus is still debated. The second period contains a group of comedies marked by brilliance in the dialogue ; wholesome- ness, capacity, and high spirits in the main char- acters, and a pervading feeling of good-humor. The histories contain a larger comic element than in the first period, and are no longer suggestive of Marlowe. Ehymes have become less frequent, and the blank verse has freed itself from the bondage of the end-stopped line. The plays of the third period are tragedies, or comedies with a prevailing tragic tone. Shaks- pere here turned his attention to those elements in life which produce perplexity and disaster, and SHAKSPERE AND ENGLISH DRAMA. 27 in this series of masterpieces we have his most magnificent achievement. His power of perfect adaptation of language to thought and feeling had now reached its height, and his verse had become thoroughly flexible without having lost strength. In the fourth period Shakspere returned to comedy. These plays, written during his last years in London, are again romantic in subject and treatment, and technically seem to show the influence of the earlier successes of Beaumont and Fletcher. But in place of the high spirits which characterized the comedies of the earlier periods we have a placid optimism, and a recurrence of situations which are more ingenious than plausi- ble, and which are marked externally by reunions and reconciliations and internally by repentance and forgiveness. The verse is singularly sweet and highly poetical ; and the departure from the end-stopped line has now gone so far that we see clearly the beginnings of that tendency which went to such an extreme in some of Shakspere's successors that it at times became hard to dis- tinguish the metre at all. In Two Noble Kinsmen and Henry VIII. , Shakspere again worked in partnership, the col- laborator being, in all probability, John Fletcher. Nothing that we know of Shakspere's life from external sources justifies us in saying, as has frequertly been said, that the changes of mood in 28 INTRODUCTION. his work from period to period corresponded to changes in the man Shakspere. As an artist he certainly seems to have viewed life now in this light, now in that ; but it is worth noting that the period of his gloomiest plays coincides with the period of his greatest worldly prosperity. It has already been hinted, too, that much of his change of manner and subject was dictated by the vari- ations of theatrical fashion and the example of successful contemporaries. Throughout nearly the whole of these marvel - ously fertile years Shakspere seems to have stayed in London; but from 1610 to 1612 i^s^L'rl 8 he was makin g Stratford more and more his place of abode, and at the same time he was beginning to write less. After 1611 he wrote only in collaboration; and having spent about five years in peaceful retirement in the town from which he had set out a penniless youth, and to which he returned a man of reputa- tion and fortune, he died on April 23, 1616. His only son, Hamnet, having died in boyhood, of his immediate family there survived him his wife and his two daughters, Susanna and Judith, both of whom were well married. He lies buried in the parish church of Stratford. TWELFTH NIGHT. 29 II. TWELFTH NIGHT. Twelfth Night was probably written in the latter part of 1601. The most direct evidence so far discovered bearing upon the date of the play is in the diary of John Manningham, a law student in the Middle Temple, in which the following passage occurs under the date of February 2, 1602: At our feast wee had a play called "Twelve Night, or What You Will," much like the Commedy of Errores, or Menechmi in Plautus, but most like and neare to that in Italian called Inganni. 1 A good practise in it to make the Steward beleeve his Lady Widowe in love 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, &c. , and then when he came to practise making him beleeve they tooke him to be mad. 2 1 Two sixteenth century Italian plays called GV In- ganni are extant, but neither contains the essential point of the plot of Twelfth Night, viz., the situation created by Orsino's sending Viola to woo Olivia. The facts that in all three there is a confusion of identity between a brother and a sister, and that one woman falls in love with another who is disguised as a man, are enough to account for Manningham's remark. On the other hand, GV Inganni may be a mere misspelling of GV Ingannati, for which see p. 32. 2 The Diary of John Manningham, ed. by John Bruce for the Camden Society, Westminster, 1868, p. 18. 30 INTRODUCTION. This fixes the later limit. If, as is supposed, the title of the play is derived from the date of its first performance, this limit must be moved back to January 6, 1602. The earlier limit is less definitely determined. In 1598 Francis Meres mentioned in his Palladis Tamia or Wit's Commonwealth , twelve of Shak- spere's plays, including all those which are gener- ally believed to have been written before that date. As Twelfth Night is not found in this list, it is argued that it was unknown to Meres, and so presumably had not yet been produced. Again, a speech of Maria's affords a clue: "He does smile his face into more lines than is in the new map with the augmentation of the Indies" (III. ii. 86-88). This map has been identified with one published in 1599 to. go with Hakluyt's Voyages. Finally, the play contains parts of two songs which are found elsewhere. The Clown's song, "0 Mistress mine, where are you roaming?" (II. iii. 43 ff), has been found by Chappell in Morley's Consort Lessons, published in 1599, so that we must conclude either that Twelfth Night was written by that date, or that, as often was the case, an already existing song was introduced into the play. The song beginning "Farewell, dear heart" (II. iii. 116 ff), fragments of which are sung by Sir Toby and the Clown, appears in Robert Jones's BooJce of A yres, published in 1601. The authorship of this song also is unknown ; but TWELFTH NIGHT. 31 on account of the manner of its introduction into Twelfth Night, and its slight poetical value, it is not usually claimed for Shakspere. Jones's col- lection is supposed to have consisted of new songs, so that if Shakspere drew it from this source, directly or indirectly, he must have com- posed this part of his play not earlier than 1601. Thus the comedy was certainly finished before January, 1602, was certainly not written before 1599, and, as stated above, was probably written in the latter part of 1601. So dated it follows Much Ado about Nothing and As You Like It, and closes the trio of brilliant and high-spirited plays in which Shakspere's comic genius reached its finest expression. This play, like many others of Shakspere's, seems to have remained unpublished during his lifetime, and to have appeared in P rint first in the earliest collected edition of his works, issued in 1623 by the two actors, Heminge and Condell. This volume is usually known as the "First Folio," and from it the present text is taken, with a few alterations drawn from the later Folios and from the suggestions of modern editors. The story which forms the main plot of Twelfth Night appeared in a number of forms and lan- guages in the sixteenth century, and belongs to a type the variants of which are spread wideit through the literature of that period. This par- 32 INTRODUCTION. ticular form of the tale, however, is found first hi an Italian comedy called GV Ingannati, pro- duced by a literary society in Sienna Source of the in ^^ Qn ^ play the ^^ ian novelist Bandello based a prose tale, which was translated into French by Belleforest, and into English (probably through the French) by Barnabe Riche in his collection of short novels called Farewell to Militarie Pro- fession, 1581. It is from the version of the story contained in this volume, and there called Apolonius and Silla, that Shakspere seems to have drawn the plot of Twelfth Night. In transforming the novel into a play, Shak- spere has handled the story with great freedom. In the beginning of Riche 's version Silla (= Viola) falls in love with Apolonius (= Orsino) while he is visiting her father, but her love is not returned or even observed, owing to the young Duke's absorption in war and business. After he has left, Silla, accompanied only by a servant, sets out to seek him, has unpleasant adventures on shipboard, is wrecked, travels to Constantinople, and, in the disguise of a man, takes service with the Duke. All this introductory matter Shak- spere omitted, with the effect of making the action more compact both in place and in time. The relations of Olivia and Sebastian are much more delicately treated in the play than in the novel, and the action is again condensed in the TWELFTH NIGHT, 33 last scene. In Riche the brother leaves the city after having been entertained by Julina (= Olivia; ; gossip about Silla and Julina reaches the Duke's ears and leads to Silla's being thrown into a dungeon; Julina goes to the Duke to plead for Silla; Silla is sent for, denies having made any love-compact with Julina, and under threat oi death reveals her identity. Julina retires in sad perplexity, and the Duke marries Silla. The rumor of the marriage brings the brother back to the city, where he confesses his former visit and marries Julina. A comparison of this summary of events scattered over a considerable space of time with the arrangement by which all the threads are drawn together by Shakspere in the last scene of Twelfth Nighty shows something of his method and skill. In characterization even more is due to the dramatist than in construction. The figures in Riche 's novel are in the play entirely re-created, and the sentiment alism of the Duke, as well as the appealing union of pathos and arch humor which makes the charm of Viola, is altogether the con- ception of Shakspere. Of the underplot there is no trace in Apolonius and Silla; and the characters of Sir Toby and Sir Andrew, Maria and Malvolio, Fabian and Feste, are all of Shakspere's invention. In another story of Riche' s, however, in the same volume as Apolonius and Silla, there occurs an incident 3* INTRODUCTION. which I believe to have suggested the charge of madness in Malvolio and the scene in the dark house, and which is so illuminating as to the way in which Shakspere gathered and adapted his material that it is worth while to give the passage. In the story Of Two Brethren and Their Wives, the younger brother married a rich woman who turned out an inveterate scold. After enduring much he adopted heroic measures. With the assistance of a neighbor he dressed her in rags, tied her in a- dark house, with a great chain about her leg, and then callyng his neibours about her, he would seeme . with greate sorrowe to lament his wives distresse, telling them that she was sodainly become lunatique ; whereas, by his geasture, he tooke so greate greefe, as though he would likewise have runne madde for companie. But his wife (as he had attired her) seemed in deede not to be well in her wittes; but, seeyng her housebandes maners, shewed her self in her conditions to bee a right Bedlem: she used no other wourdes but cursynges and banninges, criyng for the plague and the pestilence, and that the devill would teare her housbande in peeces. The companie that were about her, thei would exhorte her, Good neighbour, forget these idle speeches, which doeth so inuche distemper you, and call upon God, and he will surely helpe you. Call upon God for help? (quoth the other) wherein should he helpe me, un- lesse he would consume this wretche with fire and brimstone? other help I have no need of. Her house- bande, he desired his neighbours, for God's love, that chei would helpe him to praie for her; and thus, alto- gether kneeling doune in her presence, he beganne to TWELFTH NIGHT. 35 sale, Miserere, whiche all theie saied after him; but this did so spight and vexe her, that she never gave over her railyng and ragyng againste them all. Twelfth Night is written mainly in blank verse, which, since Marlowe, had been the standard metre of the English Drama. Exceptions Metre. . are found in the prose of the narra- tive scene, II. i., of the scenes in which the char- acters of the underplot appear as the chief actors, and of passages of repartee such as I. v. 186-266. This is in accordance with Shakspere's regular habit of using prose for the speeches of servants and humble persons generally, for farce, and often for matter-of-fact narrative, while the employ- ment of verse indicates a higher emotional and imaginative level of both action and dialogue. The normal type of the blank verse has five iambic feet, that is, ten syllables with the verse accent falling on the even syllables. From this regular form, however, Shakspere deviates with great freedom, the commonest variations being the following: 1. The addition of an eleventh syllable; e.g. : So please | my lord, | I might | not be | admit | ted s I. i. 24. And speak | to him | in ma | ny sorts | of mu | sic That will | allow | me ve | ry worth j his ser | vice, L ii. 58-59. Occasionally this extra syllable occurs in the middle of the line, at the main pause known as 36 INTRODUCTION. the caesura, which is most frequent after the third foot; e.g. : Stealing | and giv | ing o | dour. | Enough ! | no more | 1 I. i. 7. E'er since | pursue | me. \\ How now! | what news | from her? | I. i. 23. 2. Frequently what seems an extra syllable is to be slurred in reading; thus " spirit" is mono- syllabic in O spirit | of love, | how quick | and fresh | art thou | , I. i. 9. So the middle syllable of "natural" is slurred in A na | tural per | spective, | that is | and is | not, V. i. 224. In some lines it is doubtful whether a syllable is to be slurred or sounded as a light extra syllable; as, e. g., the second syllable of "cere- mony" in And all | the cere \ mony | of this | compact, V. i. 164. 3. Short lines lacking one or more feet occur, especially at the beginning or end of a speech; e.g.: He was a bachelor then, I. ii. 29. No, not the duke's, I. ii. 46. What is your parentage? I. v. 308. 4. Long lines of twelve or thirteen syllables occur; e.g. : TWELFTH NIGHT. 3? DC give | thee five- | fold bla | zon. Not | too fast! || Soft, soft! I. v. 324. That do | renown | this ci | ty. Would | you par | don me, ILL Hi. 24. You throw | a strange | regard | upon | me, and || by that, V. i. 219. That tyr | annous heart | can think? | To one | of your | receiving. III. i. 130. In such lines some words bearing the metrical accent are quite unemphatic in reading. 5, Frequently, especially in the first foot, a trocnee is substituted for an iambus, i.e., the accent falls on the odd instead of on the even syllable; e.g. : i Give me | excess of it, that, surfeiting, I. i. 2. j Courage | and hope both teaching him the practice. I. ii. 13. In the following line the first and third feet are anapaests, i.e., have two unstressed syllables before the accent. Let me speak | a lit | tie. TJiis youth \ that you | see here I , III. iv. 399. 6. It must be remembered, however, that some : words have changed their pronunciation since Shakspere's time. Thus the noun "compact" had the accent on the second syllable, as in And all the ceremony of this \ compact, V. i. 164. So access in I. iv. 17, aspect in I. iv. 29, record in V. i. 253 ; and conversely, antique in II. iv. 3, perspective in V. i. 224, etc- 38 INTRODUCTION. Again, terminations like "-tion" were often dissyllabic, as in Her sweet | perfec | ti-ons | with one | self king j , I. i. 39. I know | not what | 'twas but | distrac | ti-on | ,V. i. 61. In "remembrance" and " country" in the fol- lowing lines, the r is syllabified: And las | ting in | her sad | remem | b(e)rance | , I. i. 32. The like | of him. | Know'st thou | this coun | t(e)ry j , I. ii. 21. Although differences between the language of Shakspere and that of our own day are obvious to the most casual reader, there is a risk that the student may under- estimate the extent of these differences, and, assuming that similarity of form implies identity of sense, miss the true interpretation. The most important instances of change of meaning are explained in the notes; but a clearer view of the nature and extent of the contrast between the idiom of Twelfth Night and that of modern English will be gained by a classification of the most frequent features of this contrast. Some of the Shaksperean usages are merely results of the carelessness and freedom which the more elastic standards of the Elizabethan time permitted; others are forms of expression at that time quite accurate, but now become obsolete. 1. NOUNS. Shakspere frequently uses an TWELFTH NIGHT. 39 abstract nou.i with "of" where modern English has an adjective; e.g.: in I. v. 72, "Mouse oi virtue" = virtuous mouse. Conversely, in I. iv. 22, "civil bounds" = bounds of civility. 2. PRONOUNS, (a) The nominative is some- times used for the objective, especially after prepositions; e.. : "Save I," III. i. 171. (b) "His" is sometimes used instead of the sign of the possessive case; e.g.: "The count his galleys," III. iii. 26. (c) The ethical dative is commoner in Shak- spere than in modern speech; e.g. : Will either of you bear me a challenge to him, III. ii. 44. Scout me for him at the corner, III. iv. 197. Build me thy fortunes, III. ii. 36. (d) The modern distinctions among the rela- tive pronouns ivho, which, that, as, is not observed by Shakspere; e.g. : And in such forms which here were presupposed, V i. 360. (e) The objective case of the personal pronouns is at times used reflexively where modern English requires no object; e.g.: "I fear me," III. i. 124; "Now I remember me," V. i. 286. 3. VERBS, (a) A singular verb is often found with a plural subject; e.. : There is no woman's sides, II. iv. 94. When wit and youth is come to harvest, III. i. 142. Daylight and champaign discovers not more, II. v. 175 INTRODUCTION. (b) A plural verb is often found with a singular "subject, through the attraction of an intervening plural; e.g. : Every one of these letters are in my name, II. v. 152-53. My soul the faithfull'st offerings have breathed out, V. i. 118. Each circumstance Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and jump, V. i. 258-59. (c) The "n" is frequently dropped from the ending of the past participle of strong verbs in cases where it is retained at the present day ; e.g. : "spoke" for "spoken," I. iv. 21. When the word thus produced might be mistaken for the infinitive, the form of the past tense is found; e.g.: "took" for "taken," I. v. 294; "mistook" for "mistaken," V. i. 266, where the form "take" would have been ambiguous. (d) Verbs of motion are at times omitted; e.g. : I will A on with my speech, I. v. 212. Shall I A to this lady, II. iv. 123. A Presently after him } III. iv. 223. (e) "To" is sometimes used with the infinitive where it is omitted in modern English; e.g. : I had rather hear you to solicit, III. i. 119. The converse is more frequent than it is in con- temporary speech; e.g. : Will you go A hunt, I. i. 16. First go A see your lodging, III. iii. 20. TWELFTH NIGHT. 41 (f) The infinitive with "to" is sometimes used for the gerund with another preposition; e.g.: You might have saved me my pains, to have taken (= by taking) it away yourself, II. ii. 57. Under your hard construction must I sit To force (= by forcing) that on you, III. i. 125-26. 4. ADVERBS, (a) Double and triple negatives are used with a merely intensive force; e.g. : "Nor no railing," I. v. 108; "Nor will you not," II. i. 1; "Nor never none," III. i. 170; "Nor this is not iny nose neither," IV. i. 8-9. (b) The form of the adjective is often used for the adverb; e.g.: "For his sake did I expose myself, pure for his love," V. i. 87. 5. PREPOSITIONS, (a) The usage in preposi- tions- was less definite than it is to-day. Thus "of" = "on" in "What bestow of him?" III. iv. 2; "with" = "of" or "from" in "This comes with seeking you," III. iv. 372; "up" = "out" in "Make up that," II. v. 132. (b) Occasionally prepositions were used where in modern English the verb takes a direct object; e.g.: "To flatter with his lord," I. v. 335. TWELFTH NIGH'l DKAMATIS PEKSOSTAE. ORSINO, Duke of Ulyria. SEBASTIAN, brother to Viola. ANTONIO, a sea captain, friend to Sebastian. A Sea Captain, friend to Viola. VALENTINE, \ r , > gentlemen attending on the Duke. OURIO, ) SIR TOBY BELCH, uncle to Olivia. SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK. MALVOLIO, steward to Olivia. FABIAN, ) _ 7 v servants to Olivia. FESTE, a clown, j OLIVIA, a rich countess. VIOLA. MARIA, Olivia's woman. Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians, and other Attendants. SCENE: A city in Illyria, and the sea-coast near it TWELFTH NIGHT: OB, WHAT YOU WILL. ACT FIRST. SCENE I. A room in the Duke's palace. Enter Duke, Curio, and other Lords; Musicians attending. ^^ "-7 DuJcel 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. 6 0, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour. Enough! no more! 'Tis not so sweet now as it was before. spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou, 10 That, notwithstanding thy capacity Keceiveth as the sea, nought enters there, Of what validity and pitch soe'er, 45 46 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT I. So. i But falls into abatement and low price Even in a minute ! So full of shapes is fancy That it alone is high fantastical. is Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord? Duke. What, Curio? Cur. The hart. DuJce. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have. 0, when mine eyes did see Olivia first, Meth ought she purged the air of pestilence ! 20 That instant was I turned into a hart ; And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, E'er since pursue me. Enter Valentine. How now ! what news from her? Vol. So please my lord, I might not be admitted, But from ^her handmaid do return this 25 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 so A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh And lasting in her sad remembrance. \J)ulce. 0, she that hath a heart of that fine frame To pay this debt of love but to a brother, How will she love when the rich golden shaft 85 Hath killed the flock of all affections else That live in her; when liver, brain, and heart, ACT I. Sc. ii.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 47 These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and filled Her sweet perfections with one self king ! ? Away before me to sweet beds of flowers ; Love-thoughts lie rich when canopied with bowers. [Exeunt. SCENE II. The sea-coast. Enter Viola, a Captain, and Sailors. Vio. What country, friends, is this? Cap. This is Illyria, lady. Vio. And what should I do in Illyria? My brother he is in Elysium. 5 Perchance he is not drowned. What think you, sailors? Cap. It is perchance that you yourself were saved. Vio. my poor brother ! and so perchance may he be. Cap. True, madam; and, to comfort you with chance, Assure yourself, after our ship did split, 10 When you and those poor number saved with you Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother, Most provident in peril, bind himself, 48 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT I. Sc. ii. Courage and hope both teaching him the practice, To a strong mast that lived upon the sea ; Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back, 15 I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves So long as I could see. Vio. For saying so, there's gold. Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope, Whereto thy speech serves for authority, 20 The like of him. Know'st thou this country? Cap. Ay, madam, well ; for I was bred and born Not three hours' travel from this very place. Vio. Who governs here? Cap. A noble duke, in nature as in name. 25 Vio. What is his name? Cap. Orsino. Vio. Orsino! I have heard my father name him. He was a bachelor then. Cap. And so is now, or was so very late ; so For but a month ago I went from hence, And then 'twas fresh in murmur as, you know, What great ones do the less will prattle of That he did seek the love of fair Olivia. Vio. What's she? 35 Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count That died some twelvemonth since, then leaving her In the protection of his son, her brother, Who shortly also died ; for whose dear love, ACT I. Sc. ii.] TWELFTH NIGHT. U 40 They say, she hath abjured the company And sight of men. Via. that I served that lady, And might not he delivered to the world, Till I had made mine own occasion mellow, What my estate is! Cap. That were hard to compass, 45 Because she will admit no kind of suit, No, not the duke's. Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, captain; And though that nature with a beauteous wall Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee 50 I will believe thou hast a mind that suits With this thy fair and outward character. I prithee, and I'll pay thee bounteously, Conceal me what I am, anl be my aid For such disguise as haply shall become w The form of my intent. I'll serve this duke. Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him. It may be worth thy pains, for I can sing And speak to him in many sorts of music That will allow me very worth his service. > What else may hap to time I will commit, Only shape thou thy silence to my wit. Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be. When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see. Vio. I thank thee. Lead me on. [Exeunt. 50 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT I. So. ill SCENE III. . A room in Olivia? s Enter Sir Toby Belch and Maria. Sir To. What a plague means my niece, tc the death of her brother thus? I am sure care's an enemy to life. Mar. By my troth, Sir Tohy, you must come in earlier o' nights. Your cousin, my lady, 5 takes great exceptions to your ill hours. Sir To. Why, let her except before except ed. Mar. Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest limits of order. Sir To. Confine! I'll 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. Mar. That quaffing and drinking will undo you. i I heard my lady talk of it yesterday, and of 9 foolish knight that you brought in one night here to be her wooer. Sir To. Who? Sir Andrew Aguecheek? Mar. Ay, he. 20 Sir To. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria. Mar. What's that to the purpose? Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats a year. ACT I. Sc. iii.J TWELFTH NIGHT. 51 . Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats. He's a very fool and a prodigal. Sir To. Fie, that you'll say so! He plays o' the viol-de-gamboys, and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and so hath all the good gifts of nature. Mar. He hath indeed, almost natural ; for besides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller; and but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought 35 among the prudent he would quickly have the gift of a grave. Sir To. By this hand, they are scoundrels and substractors that say so of him. Who are they? 40 Mar. They that add, moreover, he's drunk nightly in your company. Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece. I'll drink to her as long as there is a passage in my throat and drink in Illyria. He's a 15 coward and a coystrill that will not drink to my niece till his brains turn o' the toe like a parish-top. What, wench ! Castiliano vulgo ! for here comes Sir Andrew Agueface. Enter Sir Andrew Aguecheek. Sir And. Sir Toby Belch! How now, Sir Toby 60 Belch ! Sir To. Sweet Sir Andrew! Sir And. Bless you. fair shrew. Mar. And you too, sir. 6fc TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT I. Sc. ill. Sir To. Accost, Sir Andrew, accost. Sir And. What's that? 55 Sir To. My niece's chambermaid. Sir And. Good Mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance. Mar. My name is Mary, sir. Sir And. Good Mistress Mary Accost, 60 Sir To. You mistake, knight. " Accost" is front her, board her, woo her, assail her. Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake her in this company. Is that the meaning Of "aCCOSt"? 65 Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen. Sir To. An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, would thou mightst never draw sword again. Sir And. An you part so, mistress, I would I might never draw sword again. Fair lady, 70 do you think you have fools in hand? Mar. Sir, I have not you by the hand. Sir And. Marry, but you shall have; and here's my hand. Mar. Now, sir, "thought is free." I pray you, 75 bring your hand to the buttery- bar and let it drink. Sir And. Wherefore, sweet-heart? W T hat's your metaphor? Mar. It's dry, sir. so Sir And. Why, I think so. 1 am not such an ass but I can keep my hand dry. But what's your jest? ACT I. Sc. iii.] TWELFTH NIGHT, 53 Mar. A dry jest, sir. 85 Sir And. Are you full of them? Mar. Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers' ends. Marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren. [Exit. Sir To. knight, thou lackest a cup of canary. When did I see thee so put down? 90 Sir And. Never in your life, I think, unless you see canary put me down. Methinks some- times I have no more wit than a Christian or an ordinary man has; but I am a great eater of beef and I believe that does harm to my 95 wit. Sir To. No question. Sir And. An I thought that, I'd forswear it. I'll ride home to-morrow, Sir Toby. Sir To. Pourquoi, my dear knight? 100 Sir And. 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. 0, had I but followed the arts! Sir To. Then hadst thou had an excellent head 105 of hair. Sir And. Why, would that have mended my hair? Sir To. Past question; for thou seest it will not curl by nature. Sir And. But it becomes me well enough, does't iio not? Sir. To. Excellent; it hangs like flax on a distaS. . . . 54 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT I. Sc. lii. Sir And. Faith, I'll home to-morrow, Sir Toby. Your niece will not be seen, or if she be, it's four to one she'll none of me. The count 115 himself here hard by woos her. Sir To. She'll none o' the count. She'll not match above her degree, neither in estate? years, nor wit; I have heard her swear't. Tut, there's life in't, man. 120 Sir And. I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o' the strangest mind i' the world; I delight in masques and revels sometimes altogether. Sir To. Art thou good at these kickshawses, knight? 125 Sir And. As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be, under the degree of my betters ; and yet I will not compare with an old man. Sir To. What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight? 130 Sir And. Faith, I can cut a caper. Sir To. And I can cut the mutton to't. Sir And. And I think I have the back-trick simply as strong as any man in Illyria. Sir To. Wherefore are these things hid? Where- 135 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. . . . HO What dost thou mean? Is it a world to hide virtues in? I did think, by the excellent ACT I. So. iv.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 55 constitution of thy leg, it was formed under the star of a galliard. 145 Sir And. Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent well in a dam'd coloured stock. Shall we set about some revels? Sir To. What shall we do else? Were we not born under Taurus? 150 Sir And. Taurus! That's sides and heart. Sir To. No, sir, it is legs and thighs. Let me see thee caper. Ha! Higher! Ha, ha! Excellent ! [Exeunt. SCENE IV. A room in the Duke's palace. Enter Valentine, and Viola in man's attire. Val. 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. 5 Vio. You either fear his humour or my negli- gence, that you call in question the continu- ance of his love. Is he inconstant, sir, in his favours? Val. No, believe me. 10 Vio. I thank you. Here comes the count* Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants. Duke. Who saw Cesario, ho? 56 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT I. So. iv. Vio. On your attendance, my lord; here. Duke. Stand you a while aloof. Cesario, Thou know'st no less but all. I have unclasped To thee the book even of my secret soul; 15 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. Vio. Sure, my noble lord, If she be so abandoned to her sorrow 20 As it is spoke, she never will admit me. Duke. Be clamorous and leap all civil bounds Bather than make unprofited return. Vio. Say I do speak with her, my lord, what then? Duke. 0, then unfold the passion of my love, 25 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. Vio. I think not so, my lord. Duke. Dear lad, believe it;3o For they shall yet belie thy happy years, 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. *& ACT I. So. v.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 57 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, 40 And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord, To call his fortunes thine. Vio. I'll do my best To woo your lady, [aside] yet, a barful strife ! Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife. [Exeunt. SCENE V. A room in Olivia's house. Enter Maria and Clown. Mar. 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. CTo. Let her hang me! He that is well hanged in this world needs to fear no colours. Mar. Make that good. Clo. He shall see none to fear. Mar. A good lenten answer. I can tell thee $8 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT I. So. v. where that saying was born, of "I fear noio colours." Clo. Where, good Mistress Mary? Mar. In the wars ; and that may you be bold to say in your foolery. Clo. Well, God give them wisdom that have it ; is and those that are fools, let them use their talents. Mar. 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? 20 Clo. Many a good hanging prevents a bad mar- riage; and, for turning away, let summer bear it out. Mar. You are resolute, then? Clo. Not so, neither; but I am resolved on two 25 points. Mar. That if one break,' the other will hold ; or, if both break, your gaskins fall. Clo. Apt, in good faith; very apt. Well, go thy way. If Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou so wert as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria. Mar. Peace, you rogue, no more o' that. Here comes my lady. Make your excuse wisely, you were best. [Exit, as Clo. 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 r may pass for a wise man; ACT I. Sc v.J TWELFTH NIGHT. 59 for what says Quinapalus? " Better a witty fool than a foolish wit." Enter Lady Olivia and retinue with Malvolio. God bless thee, lady ! Oil. Take the fool away. Clo. Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady. OH. Go to, you're a dry fool, I'll no more of you: besides, you grow dishonest. Clo. Two faults, madonna, that drink and good counsel will amend; for give the dry fool drink, then is the fool not dry: bid the dis- honest 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 trans- gresses is but patched with sin, and sin that amends is but 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. OU. Sir, I bade them take away you. Clo. Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, "cucullus non facit monachum"; that's as much to say as I wear not motley in my brain. Good madonna, give me leave to prove you a fool. OU. Can you do it? 60 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT I. Sc. v. Clo. Dexteriously, good madonna. Oil. Make your proof. ?o Clo. I must catechize you for it, madonna. Good my mouse of virtue, answer me. Oli. Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I'll bide your proof. Clo. Good madonna, why mournest thou? 75 Oli. Good fool, for my brother's death. Clo. I think his soul is in hell, madonna. Oli. I know his soul is in heaven, fool. Clo. The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your brother's soul being in heaven. Take away so the fool, gentlemen. Oli. What think you of this fool, Malvolio? Doth he not mend? Mai. Yes, and shall do till the pangs of death shake him. Infirmity, that decays the wise, 85 doth ever make the better fool. Clo. God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for 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 arew no fool. Oil. How say you to that, Malvolio? Mai. 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 95 more brain than a stone. Look you now, he's out of his guard already. Unless you Jaugh and minister occasion to him, he is ACTl So. v.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 61 gagged. I protest, I take these wise men, 100 that crow so at these set kind of fools, no better than the fools' zanies. Oli. 0, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste with a distempered appetite To be generous, guiltless, and of free disposition, is 105 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. no Glo. Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for thou speakest well of fools ! Re-enter Maria. Mar. Madam, there is at the gate a young gentle- man much desires to speak with you. Oli. From the Count Orsino, is it? us Mar. I know not, madam. 'Tis a fair young man, and well attended. Oli. Who of my people hold him in delay? Mar. Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman. Oli. Fetch him off, I pray you. He speaks f2o nothing but madman; fie on him! [Exit Maria.] Go 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, 125 and people dislike it. Clo. Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy eldest son should be a fool; whose skull Jove 62 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT I. Sc. v. cram with brains! for here he comes one of thy kin has a most weak pia mater. Enter Sir Toby. Oli. By mine honour, half drunk. What is he iso at the gate, cousin? Sir To. A gentleman. Oli. A gentleman ! What gentleman? Sir To. 'Tis a gentleman here a plague o' these pickle-herring! How now, sot! iss Clo. Good Sir Toby! Oli. Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by this lethargy? Sir To. [Lethargy]! I defy [lethargy]. There's one at the gate. 14 Oli. Ay, marry, what is he? Sir To. Let him be the devil, an he will, I care not; give me faith, say I. Well, it's all one. [Exit. Oli. What's a drunken man like, fool? Clo. Like a drowned man, a fool, and a mad man. i* 5 One draught above heat makes him a fool, the second mads him, and a third drowns him. Oli. Go thou and seek the crowner and let him sit o' my coz, for he's in the third degree of iso drink, he's drowned. Go, look after him. Clo. He is but mad yet, madonna; and the fool shall look to the madman. [Exit. Re-enter Malvolio. Mai. Madam, yond young fellow swears he will ACT I. Sc. v.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 63 155 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 ice comes to speak with you. What is to be said to him, lady? He's fortified against any denial. Oli. Tell him he shall not speak with me. Mai. Has been told so; and he says, he'll stand at your door like a sheriff's post, and be the 165 supporter to a bench, but he'll speak with you. Oli. What kind o' man is he? Mai. Why, of mankind. Oli. What manner of man? 170 Mai. Of very ill manner. He'll speak with you, will you or no. OIL Of what personage and years is he? Mai. Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough for a boy ; as a squash is before 'tis a ITS peascod, or a codling when 'tis almost an apple. 'Tis with him in standing water, between boy and man. He is very well- favoured and he speaks very shrewishly. One would think his mother's milk were iso scarce out of him. Oli. Let him approach. Call in my gentle- woman. Mai. Gentlewoman, my lady calls. [Exit. Re-enter Maria. tf4 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT I. So. v. i'/f. Give me my veil. Come, throw it o'er my face. We'll once more hear Orsino's embassy. 185 Enter Viola and Attendants. Via. The honourable lady of the house, which is she? Oli. Speak to me; I shall answer for her. Your will? Vio. Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable 190 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 takeo great pains to con it. Goodios beauties, let me sustain no scorn. I am very comptible, even to the least sinister usage. OIL Whence came you, sir? Vio. I can say little more than I have studied, and that question's out of my part. Good 200 gentle one, give me modest assurance if you be the lady of the house, that I may proceed in my speech. Oli. Are you a comedian? Vio. No, my profound heart; and yet, by thesos very fangs of malice I swear, I am not that I pla^r. Are you the lady of the house? Oli. If I do not usurp myself, I am. Vio. Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp yourself; for what is yours to bestow is ni^ yours to reserve. But this is from mv com ACT I. Sc. v.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 65 mission. I will on with my speech in your praise, and then show you the heart of my message. 215 Oil. Come to what is important in't. I forgive you the praise. Vio. Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis poetical. Oli. It is the more like to be feigned. I pray 220 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. 'Tis not that time of moon with me 225 to make one in so skipping a dialogue. Mar. Will you hoist sail, sir? Here lies your way. Vio. No, good swabber, I am to hull here a little longer. Some mollification for your giant, 280 sweet lady. Tell me your mind. I am a messenger. OIL Sure, you have some hideous matter to deliver, when the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak your office. 235 Vio. 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. OIL Yet you began rudely. What are you? What 240 would you? Vio. The rudeness that hath appeared in ine 66 TWELFTH NIGHT. L ACT I. So. v. 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. 245 OK. Give us the place alone; we will hear this divinity. [Exeunt Maria and Attendants.] ]STow, sir, what is your text? Vio. Most sweet lady, Oli. A comfortable doctrine, and much may be 250 said of it. Where lies your text? Vio. In Orsino's bosom. Oli. In his bosom! In what chapter of his bosom? Vio. To answer by the method, in the first of his 255 heart. Oli. 0, I have read it. It is heresy. Have you no more to say? Vio. Good madam, let me see your face. Oli. Have you any commission from your lord to 260 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 present. Is't not well done? [ Unveiling. Vio. Excellently done, if God did all. 265 Oli. 'Tis in grain, sir; 'twill endure wind and weather. Vio. 'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on. Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive, D ACT I. So. v.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 67 If you will lead these graces to the grave And leave the world no copy. OH. 0, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted. I will give out divers schedules of my beauty. It S75 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, one chin, and so forth. Were you sent hither to 280 praise me? Vio. I see you what you are, you are too proud ; But, if you were the devil, you are fair. My lord and master loves you. 0, such love Could be but recompensed, though you were crowned 285 The nonpareil of beauty ! Oil. How does he love me? Vio. With adorations, fertile tears, With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire. Oh. Your lord does know my mind. I cannot love him. Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble ; io Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth ; In voices well divulged, free, learned, and valiant, 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. 68 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT I. So. v. Via. If I did love you in my master's flame, 295 With such a suffering, such a de&dly life, In your denial I would find no sense, I would not understand it. Oil. Why, what would you? Vio. Make me a willow cabin at your gate, And call upon my soul within the house; soo 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!" 0, you should not rest 305 Between the elements of air and earth, But you should pity me! Oil. You might do much. What is your parentage? Vio. Above my fortunes, yet my state is well. I am a gentleman. Oli. Get you to your lord. 3io I cannot love him. Let him send no more, Unless, perchance, you come to me again To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well! I thank you for your pains. Spend this for me. Vio. I am no feed post, lady. Keep your purse. sus 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 ACT I. Sc. v.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 69 Placed in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty. [Exit. 320 Oli. "What is your parentage?" "Above my fortunes, yet my state is well. I am a gentleman." I'll be sworn thou art. Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit, Do give thee five-fold blazon. Not too fast ! Soft, soft! 825 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. 330 What ho, Malvolio! Re-enter Malvolio. Mai. Here, madam, at your service. Oli. Run after that same peevish messenger, The county's man. He left this ring behind him, Would I or not. Tell him I'll none of it. 335 Desire him not to flatter with his lord, Nor hold him up with hopes. I'm not for him. If that the youth will come this way to-morrow, I'll give him reason's for't. Hie thee, Malvolio. Mai. Madam, I will. [Exit. 340 Oli. I do I know not what, and fear to find TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT I. Sc. v. Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind. Fate, show thy force. Ourselves we do not owe. What is decreed must be, and be this so. LExit ACT SECOND. SCENE I. The sea-coast. Enter Antonio and Sebastian. Ant. Will you stay no longer? Nor will you not that I go with you? Sel. By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly over me. The malignancy of my fate & might perhaps distemper 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. Ant. Let me yet know of you whither you are 10 bound. Seb. No, sooth, sir. My determinate voyage is mere extravagancy. But I perceive in you so excellent a touch of modesty, that you will not extort from me what I am willing to 15 keep in ; therefore it charges me in manners the rather to express myself. You must know of me then, Antonio, my name is Sebastian, ^hich I called Eoderigo. My father was that Sebastian of Messaline,, ao whom I know you have heard of. Ha left 7J *4 I TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT II. So. i. behind him myself and a sister, both born in an hour. If the heavens had been pleated, 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 25 drowned. AnL Alas the day! Seb* A lady, sir, though it was said she much resembled me, was yet of many accounted oeautiful; but, though I could not withsc 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, though I seem to drown her remem- 85 brance again with more. Ant. Pardon me, sir, your bad entertainment. Seb. good Antonio, forgive me your trouble. Ant. If you will not murder me for my love, let me be your servant. 40 Seb. 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 full of kindness, and I am yet so near the manners of my mother, that upon 45 the least occasion more mine eyes will tell tales of me. I am bound to the Count Orsino's court. Farewell. ' [Exit. Ant. The gentleness of all the gods go with thee ! I have many enemies in Orsino's court, o ACT II. Sc. ii.j TWELFTH NIGHT. 73 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. II. A street. Enter Viola, Malvolio following. tfal. Were you not even now with the Countejs Olivia? Pio. Even now, sir. On a moderate pace I have since arrived but hither. s Mai. She returns this ring to you, sir. Yoa might have saved me my pains, to have taken it away yourself. She adds, moreover, that you should put your lord into a desper- ate assurance she will none of him, and u/ one thing more that you be never so hardy to come again in his affairs, unless it be to report your lord's taking of this. Receive it so. Vio. She took the ring of me. I'll none of it. 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. Vio. I think it well, my lord. 35 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, Vio. And so they are ; alas, that they are so ! 40 To die, even when they to perfection grow! Re-enter Curio and Clown. Duke. 0, 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. Clo. Are you ready, sir? Duke. Ay; prithee, sing. [Music. 50 ACT IL Sc. iv.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 85 SONG. Clo. 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. 55 My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, 0, prepare it! My part of death, no one so true Did share it Not a flower, not a flower sweet, 60 On my black coffin let there be strown. Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown. A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, 0, where 65 Sad true lover never finds my grave, To weep there! Duke. There's for thy pains. "Clo. No pains, sir; I take pleasure in singing, sir. Duke. I'll pay thy pleasure then. ?o Clo. Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or another. Duke. Give me now leave to leave thee. *~Clo. Now, the melancholy god protect thee, and the tailor make thy doublet of changeable 75 taffeta, for thy mind is a very opal. I would have men of such constancy put to sea, that 86 TWELFTH NIGHT. [Acr II. So. iv their business might be every thing and their intent every where; for that's it that always makes a good voyage of nothing. Farewell. {Exit. Duke. Let all the rest give place. [Curio and Attendants retire. Once more, Cesario, so Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty. Tell her, my love, more noble than the world, Prizes not quantity of dirty lands. The parts that fortune hath bestowed upon her, Tell her, I hold as giddily as fortune; 85 But 'tis that miracle and queen of gems That nature pranks her in attracts my soul. Fi'o._But if she cannot love you, sir? Duke. I cannot be so answered. Vio. Sooth, but you must. Say that some lady, as perhaps there is, oo 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 answered? Duke. There is no woman's sides Can bide the beating of so strong a passion 95 As love doth give my heart; no woman's heart So big, to hold so much. They lack reten- tion. ACT II. So. iv.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 8? Alas, their love may be called 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. Via. Ay, but I know 105 Duke. What dost thou know? Vio. Too well what love women to men may owe. In faith, they are as true of heart as we. My father had a daughter loved a man, As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman, mo I should your lordship. Duke. And what's her history? Vio. A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought, And with a green and yellow melancholy ns 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. e^ But died thy sister of her love, my boy? Vio. I am all the daughters of my father's house, 88 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT II. Sc. v. And all the brothers too; and yet I know not. Sir, shall I to this lady? Dulce. Ay, that's the theme. To her in haste. Give her this jewel. Say, My love can give no place, bide no denay. 125 [Exeunt. SCENE V. Olivia's garden. Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew , and Fabian. Sir To. Come thy ways, Signior Fabian. Fab. Nay, I'll come. If I lose a scruple of this sport, let me be boiled to death with melan- choly. Sir To. Wouldst thou not be glad to have the 5 niggardly rascally sheep-biter come by some notable shame? Fab. I would exult, man. You know, he brought me out o' favour with my lady about a bear- baiting here. 10 Sir To. To anger him we'll have the bear again, and we will fool him black and blue. Shall we not, Sir Andrew? Sir And. An we do not, it is pity of our lives. Sir To. Here comes the little villain. is Enter Maria. How now, my metal of India! ACT II. Sc. v.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 89 Mar. 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 20 own shadow this half hour. Observe him, for the love of mockery, for I know this letter will make a contemplative idiot of him. Close, in the name of jesting ! Lie thou there [throws down a letter], for here comes the ss trout that must be caught with tickling. [Exit. Enter Malvolio. Mai. 'Tis but a 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 com- 30 plexion. Besides, she uses me with a more exalted respect than any one else that follows her. What should I think on't? Sir To. Here's an overweening rogue! Fab. 0, peace! Contemplation makes a rare 35 turkey-cock of him. How he jets under his advanced plumes ! Sir And. 'S light, I could so beat the rogue! Sir To. Peace, I say. Mai. To be Count Malvolio! *> Sir To. Ah, rogue! Sir And. Pistol him, pistol him. Sir To. Peace, peace! Mai. There is example for't. The lady of the Strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe. 90 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ ACT II. So. Y. Sir And. Fie on him, Jezebel! 45 Fab. 0, peace! now he's deeply in. Look how imagination blows him. Mai. Having been three months married to her, sitting in my state, Sir To. 0, for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye! 50 Mai. Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet gown, having come from a day-bed, where I have left Olivia sleeping, Sir To. Fire and brimstone! Fab. 0, peace, peace! 55 Mai. 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 kinsman Toby, Sir To. Bolts and shackles ! eo Fab. peace, peace, peace! Now, now. Mai. Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for him. I frown the while, and perchance wind up my watch, or play with my some rich jewel. Toby approaches, 65 courtesies there to me, Sir To. Shall this fellow live? Fab. Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace. Mai. I extend my hand to him thus, quenching ?o my familiar smile with an austere regard of control, Sir To. And does not Toby take you a blow o' the lips then? ACT II. Sc. v.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 91 75 Mai. Saying, " Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast me on your niece give me this preroga- tive of speech," *Sir To. What, what? Mai. "You must amend your drunkenness." so Sir To. Out, scab! Fab. Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot. Mai. "Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish knight," Sir And. That's me, I warrant you. Mai. "One Sir Andrew," Sir And. I knew 'twas I; for many do call me fool. Mai. What employment have we here? [Talcing up the letter, wFab. Now is the woodcock near the gin. Sir To. 0, peace, and the spirit of humours inti- mate reading aloud to him ! Mai. By my life, this is my lady's hand. These be her very C's, her U's, and her T's; and 95 thus makes she her great P's. It is, in con- tempt of question, her hand. Sir And. Her C's, her U's, and her T's: why that? Mai. [Reads.] "To the unknown beloved, this, too and my good wishes": her very phrases! By your leave, wax. Soft ! And the impres- sure her Lucrece, with which she uses to seal. 'Tis my lady. To whom should this be? 92 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT II. So. v. Fa b. This wins him, liver and all. Mai. [Reads.] Jove knows I love; But who? Lips, do not move; No man must know. "No man must know." What follows? The numbers altered! "No man must know!" no If this should be thee, Malvolio? Sir To. Marry, hang thee, brock! Mai. [Reads.] I may command where I adore ; But silence, like a Lucrece knife, With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore. n*> M, 0, A, I, doth sway my life. Fab. A fustian riddle! Sir To. Excellent wench, say I. Mai "M, 0, A, I, doth sway my life." Nay, but first, let me see, let me see, let me see. 120 Fab. What dish o' poison has she dressed him! Sir To. And with what wing the staniel checks at it! Mai. "I may command where I adore." Why, she may command me. I serve her. She is 125 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! M, 0, iso A, I,- ACT II. Sc. v.J TWELFTH NIGHT, 93 Sir To. 0, ay, make up that. He is now at a cold scent. Fab. Sowter will cry upon't for all this, though 135 it be as rank as a fox. Mai. M, Malvolio; M, why, that begins my name. Fab. Did not I say he would work it out? The cur is excellent at faults. uo Mai. M, but then there is no consonancy in the sequel. That suffers under probation. A should follow, but does. Fab. And shall end, I hope. Sir To. Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make him 145 cry ! Mai. And then I comes behind. Fab. Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you might see more detraction at your heels than fortunes before you. 150 Mai. M, 0, A, I; this simulation is not as 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, 155 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 160 them; and, to inure thy self to what thou art like to be, cast thy humble slough and 94: TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT II. So. v. appear fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants^ let thy tongue tang arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of singularity: she thus advises theeies that sighs for thee. Eemember who com- mended thy yellow stockings, and wished to see thee ever cross-gartered. I say, remem- ber. Go to, thou art made, if thou desirest to be so ; if not, let me see thee a steward rro still, the fellow of servants, and not worthy to touch Fortune's fingers. Farewell. She that would alter services with thee, THE FOKTUNATE UNHAPPY." Daylight and champaign discovers not more. 175 This is open. I will be proud, I will read politic authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off gross acquaintance, I will be point-devise the very man. I do not now fool myself, to let imagination jade me; foriso every 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 ofi85 injunction drives me to these habits of her liking. I thank my stars I am happy. I will be strange, stout, in yellow stockings, and cross-gartered, even with the swiftness of putting on. Jove and my stars be praised! iw ACT II. So. v.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 95 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; 195 therefore in my presence still smile, dear my sweet, I prithee." Jove, I thank thee. I will smile; I will do everything that thou wilt have me. [Exit. Fab. I will not give my part of this sport for a 200 pension of thousands to be paid from the Sophy. Sir To. I could marry this wench for this device Sir And. So could I too. 205 Sir To. And ask no other dowry with her but such another jest. Sir And. Nor I neither. Fab. Here comes my noble gull-catcher. Re-enter Maria. Sir To. Wilt thou set thy foot o' my neck? 210 Sir And. Or o' mine either? Sir To. Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and become thy bond-slave? Sir And. I' faith, or I either? Sir To. Why, thou hast put him in such a 215 dream, that when the image of it leaves him he must run mad. Mar. Nay, but say true. Does it work upon him? 96 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT II. So. v. Sir To. Like aqua-vita with a midwife. Mar. If you will then see the fruits of the sport, 220 mark his first approach before my lady. He will come to her in yellow stockings, and 'tis 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 225 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 To. To the gates of Tartar, thou most excel- 230 lent devil of wit ! Sir And. I'll make one too. [Exeunt. ACT THEEE. SCENE I. Olivia's garden. Enter Viola, and Clown, with a tabor. Vio. Save thee, friend, and thy music! Dost thou live by thy tabor? Clo. No, sir, I live by the church. Vio. Art thou a churchman? 5 Clo. No such matter, sir. I do live by the church; for I do live at my house, and my house doth stand by the church. Vio. So thou mayst say, the king lies by a beggar, if a beggar dwells near him ; or, the 10 church stands by thy tabor, if thy tabor stand by the church. Clo. You have said, sir. To see this age! A sentence is but a cheveril glove to a good wit. How quickly the wrong side may be turned 15 outward ! Vio. Nay, that's certain. They that dally nicely with words may quickly make them wanton. Clo. I would, therefore, my sister had had no name, sir. 20 Vio. Why, man? Clo. Why, sir, her name's a word, and to dally 97 98 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT III. Sc. i. with that word might make my sister wanton. But indeed words are very rascals since bonds disgraced them. Vio. Thy reason, man? 25 Clo. Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words; and words are grown so false, I am loath to prove reason with them. Vio. I warrant thou art a merry fellow and cares; 4 " for nothing. so Clo. Not so, sir, I do care for something; but in my conscience, sir, I do not care for you. If that be to care for nothing, sir, I would it would make you invisible. Vio. Art not thou the Lady Olivia's fool? au Clo. No, indeed, sir; the Lady Olivia has no folly. She will keep no fool, sir, till she be married; and fools are as like husbands as pilchards are to herrings, the husband's the bigger. I am indeed not her fool, but her40 corrupter of words. Vio. I saw thee late at the Count Orsino's. Clo. Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun, it shines every where. I would be sorry, sir, but the fool should be as oft with your 45 master as with my mistress. I think I saw your wisdom there. Vio. Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee. Hold, there's expenses for thee. Clo. Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, so send thee a beard! ACT III. So. i.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 99 Vio. By my troth, I'll tell thee, I am almost sick for one, [Aside.] though I would not have it grow on my chin. Is thy lady within? 55 Clo. Would not a pair of these have bred, sir? Vio. Yes, being kept together and put to use. Clo. I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia, sir, to bring a Cressida to this Troilus. Vio. I understand you, sir. 'Tis well begged. 60 Clo. The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, begging but a beggar. Cressida was a beggar. My lady is within, sir. I will construe to them whence you come. Who you are and what you would are out of my welkin- -I might say 85 "element," but the word is overworn. [Exit. Vio. This fellow is wise enough to play the fool, And to do that well craves a kind of wit. He must observe their mood on whom he jests, The quality of persons, and the time, TO And, like the haggard, check at every feather That comes before his eye. This is a practice As full of labour as a wise man's art; For folly that he wisely shows is fit ; But wise men, folly -fallen, quite taint theii wit. Enter Sir Toly, and Sir Andrew. 75 Sir To. Save you, gentleman. Vio. And you, sir. Siv And. Dieu vous garde, monsieur; Vio. Etvousaussi; votre serviteur. 100 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT III. Sc. i. Sir And. I hope, sir, you are; and I am yours. Sir To. Will you encounter the house? My niece so is desirous you should enter, if your trade be to her. Vio. I am bound to your niece, sir ; I mean, she is the list of my voyage. Sir To. Taste your legs, sir; put them to motion. 85 Vio. My legs do better understand me, sir, than I understand what you mean by bidding me taste my legs. Sir To. I mean, to go, sir, to enter. Vio. I will answer you with gait and entrance. 90 But we are prevented. Enter Olivia and Maria. Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain odours on you! Sir And. That youth's a rare courtier. "Rain odours;" well. 95 Vio. My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your own most pregnant and vouchsafed ear. Sir And. "Odours," "pregnant," and "vouch- safed"; I'll get 'em all three all ready. OH. Let the garden door be shut, and leave me 100 to my hearing. [Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andreiv, and Maria.] Give me your hand, sir. Vio. My duty, madam, and most humble service. Oli. What is your name? 105 Vio. Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess. ACT III. So. i.] TWELFTH NIGHT 101 OH. My servant, sir! 'Twas never merry wodd Since lowly feigning was called compliment. You're servant to the Count Orsino, youth. 10 Vio. And he is yours, and his must needs be yours. Your servant's servant is your servant, madam. Oil. For him, I think not on him. For his thoughts, Would they were blanks, rather than filled with me! Vio. Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts 115 On his behalf. Oli. 0, by your leave / I pray you, I bade you never speak again of him ; But, would you undertake another suit, I had rather hear you to solicit that Than music from the spheres. 120 Vio. Dear lady, Oli. Give me leave, beseech you. I did send, After the last enchantment you did here, A ring in chase of you ; so did I abuse Myself, my servant, and, I fear me, you. 125 Under your hard construction must I sit, To force that on you, in a shameful cun- ning, Which you knew none of yours. What might you think? Have you not set mine honour at the stake And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts 102 ( : / TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT III. Sc. i. That tyrannous heart can think? To one of iso your receiving Enough is shown. A cypress, not a bosom, Hides my heart. So, let me hear you speak. Vio. I pity you. OU. That's a degree to love. Vio. No, not a grize; for 'tis a vulgar proof, That very oft we pity enemies. 135 OU. Why, then, methinks 'tis time to smile again. world, how apt the poor are to be proud! If one should be a prey, how much the better To fall before the lion than the wolf! [Clock strikes. The clock upbraids me with the waste ofuo time. Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you; And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest, Your wife is like to reap a proper man. There lies your way, due west. Vio. Then westward-ho ! Grace and good dispo- 145 sition Attend your ladyship ! You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me? OK. Stay! 1 prithee, tell me what thou think'st of me. Vio. That you do think you are not what you are. iso OU. If I think so, I think the same of you. Vio. Then think you right. I am not what I am. ACT III. So. i.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 103 OH. I would you were as I would have you be! Vio. Would it be better, madam, than I am? 185 I wish it might, for now I am your fool. Oli. 0, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his lip ! A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon Than love that would seem hid. Love's night is noon. 160 Cesario, by the roses of the spring, By maidhood, honour, truth, and everything, I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride, Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide. Do not extort thy reasons from this clause, 165 For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause; But rather reason thus with reason fetter, Love sought is good, but given unsought is better. Vio. By innocence I swear, and by my youth, I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth, 170 And that no woman has; nor never none Shall mistress be of it, save I alone. And so adieu, good madam; nevermore Will I my master's tears to you deplore. Oli. Yet come again; for thou perhaps mayst move ITS That heart, which now abhors, to like his love. [Exeunt. 104 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT III. So. it SCENE II. A room in Olivia's house. Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian. Sir And. No, faith, I'll not stay a jot longer. Sir To. Thy reason, dear venom, give thy reason. Fab. You must needs yield your reason, Sir Andrew. Sir And. Marry, I saw your niece do more favours 5 to the count's serving-man than ever she bestowed upon me. I saw't i' the orchard. Sir To. Did she see thee the while, old boy? Tell me that. Sir And. As plain as I see you now. 10 Fab. This was a great argument of love in her toward you. Sir And. '8 light, will you make an ass o' me? Fab. I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of judgment and reason. is Sir To. And they have been grand-jurymen since before Noah was a sailor. Fab. She did show favour to the youth in your sight only to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse valour, to put fire in your heart, 20 and brimstone in your liver. You should then have accosted her; and with some excel- lent jests, fire-new from the mint, you should have banged the youth into dumbness. This ACT III. Sc. ii.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 105 25 was looked for at your hand, and this was balked. The double gilt of this opportunity you let time wash off, and you are now sailed into the north of my lady's opinion, where you will hang like an icicle on a Dutch- so man's beard, unless you do redeem it by some laudable attempt either of valour or policy. Sir And. An't be any way, it must be with valour; for policy I hate. I had as lief be a 86 Brownist as a politician. Sir To. Why, then, build me thy fortv/nes upon the basis of valour. Challenge me the count's youth to fight with him ; hurt him in eleven places; my niece shall take note of it; 40 and assure thyself, there is no love-broker in the world can more prevail in man's com- mendation with woman than report of valour. Fab. There is no way but this, Sir Andrew. Sir And. Will either of you bear me a challenge 45 to him? Sir To. Go, write it in a martial hand. Be curst and brief. It is no matter how witty, so it be eloquent and full of invention. Taunt him with the license of ink. If thou thou'st 50 him some thrice, it shall not be amiss; and as many lies as will lie in thy sheet of paper, although the sheet were big enough for the bed of Ware in England, set 'em down. Go about it. Let there be gall enough in thy 106 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ ACT III. Sc. ii. ink. Though thou write with a goose-pen, a no matter. About it. Sir And. Where shall I find you? Sir To. We'll call thee at the cubiculo. Go. \Exit Sir Andrew. Fab. This is a dear manakin to you, Sir Toby. Sir To. I have been dear to him, lad, some twoeo thousand strong, or so. Fab. We shall have a rare letter from him. But you'll not deliver 't? Sir To. Never trust me, then ; and by all means stir on the youth to an answer. I think oxen 65 and wainropes cannot hale them together. For Andrew, if he were opened, and you find so much blood in his liver as will clog the foot of a flea, I'll eat the rest of the anatomy. Fab. And his opposite, the youth, bears in hisro visage no great presage of cruelty. Enter Maria. Sir To. Look, where the youngest wren of nine f comes. Mar. If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourselves into stitches, follow me. Yondre gull Malvolio is turned heathen, a very rene- gado ; for there is no Christian, that means to be saved by believing rightly, can ever believe such impossible passages of grossness. He's in yellow stockings. 30 Sir To. And cross-gartered? ACT III. So. iii.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 107 Mar. Most villanously; like a pedant that keeps a school i'the church. I have dogged him like his murderer. He does obey every point 85 of the letter that I dropped to betray him. He does smile his face into more lines than is in the new map with the augmentation of the Indies. You have not seen such a thing as 't is. I can hardly forbear hurling things 90 at him. I know my lady will strike him; if she do, he'll smile and take't for a great favour. Sir To. Come, bring us, bring us where; he is. [Exeunt. SCENE III. A street. Enter Sebastian and Antonio. Seb. I would not by my will have troubled you; But, since you make your pleasure of your pains, I will no further chide you. Ant. I could not stay behind you. My desire, 5 More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth, And not all love to see you, though so much As might have drawn one to a longer voyage, But jealousy what might befall your travel, Being skilless in these parts; which to a stranger, 108 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT III. Sc. iii Unguided and unfriended, often prove 10 Rough and un hospitable. My willing love f The rather by these arguments of fear, Set forth in your pursuit. Set. My kind Antonio, I can no other answer make but thanks, And thanks, and ever [thanks. Too] oftis good turns Are shuffled off with such uncurrent pay ; But, were my worth as is my conscience firm, You should find better dealing. What's to do? Shall we go see the reliques of this town? Ant. To-morrow, sir. Best first go see your 20 lodging. Seb. I am not weary, and 'tis long to night. I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes With the memorials and the things of fame That do renown this city. Ant. Would you'd pardon me. I do not without danger walk these streets. 25 Once, in a sea-fight, 'gainst the count his galleys I did some service; of such note indeed, That were I ta'en here it would scarce be answered. Seb. Belike you slew great number of his people? Ant. The offence is not of such a bloody nature, so Albeit the quality of the time and quarrel Might well have given us bloody argument. ACT III. So. iii.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 109 It might have since been answered in repaying What we took from them, which, for traffic's sake, 86 Most of our city did; only myself stood out, For which, if I be lapsed in this place, I shall pay dear. Sett. Do not then walk too open. Ant. It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here's my purse. In the south suburbs, at the Elephant, 40 Is best to lodge. I will bespeak our diet, Whiles you beguile the time and feed your knowledge With viewing of the town. There shall you have me. Seb. Why I your purse? Ant. Haply your eye shall light upon some toy 46 Yon have desire to purchase, and your store, I think, is not for idle markets, sir. Seb. I'll be your purse-bearer and leave you For an hour. Ant. To the Elephant. Seb. I do remember. [Exeunt. 110 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT III. So. iv. SCENE IV. Olivia's garden. Enter Olivia and Maria. OH. [Aside.] I have sent after him; he says he'll come; How shall I feast him? What hestow of him? For youth is bought more oft than begged or borrowed. I speak too loud. Where is Malvolio? He is sad and civil, 5 And suits well for a servant with my fortunes. Where is Malvolio? Mar. He's coming, madam, but in very strange manner. He is, sure, possessed, madam. Oli. Why, what's the matter? Does he rave? 10 Mar. No, madam, he does nothing but smile. Your ladyship were best to have some guard about you, if he come; for, sure, the man is tainted in 's wits. OH. Go call him hither. [Exit Maria.] I am 15 as mad as he, If sad and merry madness equal be. Re-enter Maria, with Malvolio. How now, Malvolio ! Mai. Sweet lady, ho, ho. ACT III. So. iv.] TWELFTH NIGHT. Ill Oti. Smilest thou? 20 I sent for thee upon a sad occasion. Mai. Sad, lady? I could be sad. This does make some obstruction in the blood, this cross-gartering; but what of that? If it please the eye of one, it is with me as the 25 very true sonnet is, "Please one, and please all." Oli. Why, how dost thou, man? What is the matter with thee? Mai. Not black in my mind, though yellow in so my legs. It did come to his hands, and commands shall be executed. I think we do know the sweet Roman hand. OIL Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio? Mai. To bed ! Ay, sweet heart. . . . 85 Oli. God comfort thee ! Why dost thou smile so and kiss thy hand so oft? Mar. How do you, Malvolio? Mai. At your request ! Yes. Nightingales answer daws. 40 Mar. Why appear you with this ridiculous bold- ness before my lady? Mai. "Be not afraid of greatness:" 'twas well writ. Oli. What meanest thou by that, Malvolio? 45 Mai. "Some are born great," Oli. Ha! MaL "Some achieve greatness," Oli. What sayest thou? 112 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT III. Sc. iv. MaL "And some have greatness thrust upon them." 50 Oli. Heaven restore thee ! Mai. "Eememher who commended thy yellow stockings," Oli. Thy yellow stockings! Mai. "And wished to see thee cross-gartered. " 55 Oh. Cross-gartered! Mai. "Go to, thou art made, if thou desirest to be so;" Oli. Am I made? Mai. "If not, let me see thee a servant still." eo Oli. Why, this is very midsummer madness. Enter Servant. Ser. Madam, the young gentleman of the Count Orsino's is returned. I could hardly entreat him back. He attends jour ladyship's pleasure. 65 Oli. I'll come to him. \Exit Servant. ~\ Good Maria, let this fellow be looked to. Where's my cousin Toby? Let some of my people have a special care of him. I would not have him miscarry for the half of my dowry. TO [Exeunt Olivia and Maria. Mai. 0, ho! do you come near me now? ~No worse man than Sir Toby to look to me! This concurs directly with the letter. She sends him on purpose, that I may appear stubborn to him, for she incites me to that 1 ACT III. Sc. iv.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 113 in the letter. "Cast thy humble slough," says she; "be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants; let thy tongue tang with arguments of state; put thyself into the trick 80 of singularity;" and consequently sets down the manner how ; as, a sad face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in the habit of some sir of note, and so forth. I have limed her; but it is Jove's doing, and Jove make me 85 thankful! And when she went away now, "Let this fellow be looked to"; "fellow!" not Malvolio, nor after my degree, but "fellow." Why, every thing adheres to- gether, that no dram of a scruple, no scruple 90 of a scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous or unsafe circumstance What can be said? Nothing that can be can come between me and the full prospect of my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and he is to 95 be thanked. Re-enter Maria, with Sir Tody and Fabian. Sir To. Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all the devils of hell be drawn in little, and Legion himself possessed him, yet I'll speak to him. Here he is, here he is. How is't with you, sir? How is't with you, man? Mai. Go off; I discard you. Let me enjoy my private. Go off. 114 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT III. Sc. iv. Mar. Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him ! Did not I tell you? Sir Toby, my 105 lady prays you to have a care of him. Mai. Ah, ha! Does she so? Sir To. Go to, go to; peace, peace. We must deal gently with him. Let me alone. How do you, Malvolio? How is't with you? no What, man, defy the devil! Consider, he's an enemy to mankind. MaL Do you know what you say? Mar. La you, an you speak ill of the devil, how he takes it at heart! Pray God, he be not 115 bewitched ! Fab. Carry his water to the wise woman. Mar. Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning if I live. My lady would not lose . , him for more than I'll say. 120 Mai. How now, mistress ! Mar. Lord! Sir To. Prithee, hold thy peace; this is not the way. Do you not see you move him? Let me alone with him. 125 Fab. No way but gentleness ; gently, gently. The fiend is rough, and will not be roughly used. Sir To. Why, how now, my bawcock! How dost thou, chuck? MaL Sir! iso Sir To. Ay, " Biddy, come with me." What, man, 'tis not for gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan. Hang him, foul collier! ACT TIL Sc. iv.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 115 Mar. Get him to say his prayers, good Sir Toby, 135 get him to pray. Mai. My prayers, minx ! Mar. No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godliness. Mai. Go, hang yourselves all! You are idle HO shallow things; I am not of your element. You shall know more hereafter. [Exit. Sir To. Is't possible? Fab. If this were played upon a stage now, J could condemn it as an improbable fiction. 145 Sir To. His very genius hath taken the infection of the device, man. Mar. Nay, pursue him now, lest the device take air and taint. Fab. Why, we shall make him mad indeed, iso Mar. The house will be the quieter. Sir To. Come, we'll have him in a dark room and bound. My niece is already in the belief that he's mad. We may carry it thus, for our pleasure and his penance, till our very 155 pastime, tired out of breath, prompt us to have mercy on him; at which time we will bring the device to the bar and crown thee for a finder of madmen. But see, but see. Enter Sir Andrew. Fab. More matter for a May morning. 100 Sir And. Here's the challenge, read it. I war* rant there's vinegar and pepper in't. 116 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT III. Sc. iv. Fab. Is't so saucy? Sir And. Ay, is't, I warrant hirn. Do but read. Sir To. Give me. [Reads.] "Youth, whatsover thou art, thou art but a scurvy fellow." 165 Fab. Good, and valiant. Sir To. [Reads.] "Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind, why I do call thee so, for I will show thee no reason for't." Fab. A good note. That keeps you from them blow of the law. Sir To. [Reads.] "Thou comest to the lady Olivia, and in my sight she uses thee kindly. But thou liest in thy throat; that is not the matter I challenge thee for." 175 fab. Very brief, and to exceeding good sense less. Sir To. [Reads.] "I will waylay thee going home; where if it be thy chance to kill me," iso Fab. Good. Sir To. [Reads.] "Thou killest me like a rogue and a villain." fab. Still you keep o' the windy side of the law; gOOd. 185 Sir To. [Reads.] "Fare thee well, and God have mercy upon one of our souls! He may have mercy upon mine; but my hope is better, and so look to thyself. Thy friend, as thou usest him, arid thy sworn enemy, iw ANDREW AGUECHEEK." ACT III. Sc. iv.j TWELFTH NIGHT. 117 If this letter move him not, his legs cannot. I'll give't him. Mar. You may have very fit occasion for't. II o 195 is now in some commerce with my lady, and will by and by depart. Sir To. Go, Sir Andrew, scout me for him at the corner of the orchard like a bum-baily. So soon as ever thou seest him, draw; and, 200 as thou drawest, swear horrible; for it comes to pass oft that a terrible oath, with a swag- gering accent sharply twanged off, gives man- hood more approbation than ever proof itself would have earned him. Away! 205 Sir And. Kay, let me alone for swearing. [Exit. Sir To. Now will not I deliver his letter; for the behaviour of the young gentleman gives him out to be of good capacity and breeding; his employment between his lord and my niece 210 confirms no less* therefore this letter, being so excellently ignorant, will breed no terror in the youth; he will find it comes from a clodpole. But, sir, I will deliver his chal- lenge by word of mouth, set upon Aguecheek 215 a notable report of valour, and drive the gentleman, as I know his youth will aptly receive it, into a most hideous opinion of his rage, skill, fury, and impetuosity. This will so fright them both that they will ?&o kill one another by the look, like cocka- trices. 118 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT III. So. iv. Re-enter Olivia witli Viola. Fab. Here he comes with your niece. Give them way till he take leave, and presently after him. Sir To. I will meditate the while upon some horrid message for a challenge. 225 [Exeunt Sir Toby ) Fabian, and Maria. Oli. I have said too much unto a heart of stone, And laid mine honour too unchary on't. There's some thing in me that reproves my fault; But such a headstrong potent fault it is, That it but mocks reproof. 230 Vio. With the same 'haviour that your passion bears Goes on my master's grief. Oli. Here, wear this jewel for me, 'tis my picture. Eef use it not ; it hath no tongue to vex you ; And I beseech you come again to-morrow. 235 What shall you ask of me that I'll deny, That honour saved may upon asking give? Vio. Nothing but this, your true love for my master. Oli. How with mine honour may I give him that Which I have given to you? Vio. I will acquit you. 240 Oli. Well, come again to-morrow. Fare thee well! A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell. [Exit. ACT III. Sc. iv.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 119 Re-enter Sir Toby and Fabian. Sir To. Gentleman, God save thee! Vio. And you, sir. 245 Sir To. That defence thou hast, betake thee to't. Of what nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know not ; but thy inter- cepter, full of despite, bloody as the hunter, attends thee at the orchard-end. Dismount 250 thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation, for tny assailant is quick, skilful and deadly. Vio. 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 255 to any man. Sir To. You'll find it otherwise, I assure you; 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 260 wrath can furnish man withal. Vio. I pray you, sir, what is he? Sir To. He is knight, dubbed with unhatched rapier and on carpet consideration; but he is a devil in private brawl. Souls and bodies hath 265 he divorced three ; and his incensement at this moment is so implacable, that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death and sepulchre. Hob, nob, is his word; give't or take't. Vio. I will return again into the house and desire 270 some conduct of the lady. I am no fighter. I have heard of some kind of men that put 120 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT III. Sc. iv. quarrels purposely on others, to taste their valour. Belike this is a man 01 that quirk. Sir To. Sir, no ; his indignation derives itself out of a very competent injury; therefore, get 275 you on and give him his desire. Back you shall not to the house, 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 you280 must, that's certain, or forswear to wear iron about you. Vio. 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 385 something of my negligence, nothing of my purpose. Sir To. I will do so. Signor Fabian, stay you by this gentleman till my return. [Exit. Vio. Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter? 290 Fab. I know the knight is incensed against you, even to a mortal arbitrement, but nothing of the circumstance more. Vio. I beseech you, what manner of man is he? Fab. Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read 295 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 oppo- site that you could possibly have found in any part of Illyria. Will you walk towards him?3oo I will make your peace with him if I can. ACT III. So. iv..] TWELFTH NIGHT. 121 Vio. I shall be much bound to you for't. I am one that had rather go with sir priest than sir knight. I care not who knows so much 305 of my mettle. [Exeunt. Re-enter Sir Toby, with Sir Andrew. Sir To. 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 3io inevitable; and on the 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 And. Plague on't, I'll not meddle with him. 315 Sir To. Ay, but he will not now be pacified. Fabian can scarce hold him yonder. Sir And. Plague on't, an I thought he had been valiant and so cunning in fence, I'd have seen him damned ere I'd have challenged 320 him. Let him let the matter slip, and I'll give him my horse, grey Capilet. Sir To. I'll make the motion. Stand here; make a good show on't. This shall end without the perdition of souls. [Aside.] Marry, I'll 825 ride your horse as well as I ride you. Re-enter Fabian and Viola. [To Fab.] I have his horse to take up the quarrel. I have persuaded him the youth's a devil. 122 TWELFTH NIGHT. I ACT HI. So. iv. Fab. He is as horribly conceited of him ; and pants and looks pale, as if a bear were at his 330 heels. Sir To. [To Vio.] There's no remedy, sir; he 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 335 talking of; therefore draw, for the support- ance of his vow. He protests he will not hurt you. Vio. [Aside.] Pray God defend me! A little thing would make me tell them how much 1 340 lack of a man. Fab. Give ground, if you see him furious. Sir To. Gome, Sir Andrew, there's no remedy; the gentleman will, for his honour's sake, have one bout with you. He cannot by the 345 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 And. Pray God, he keep his oath! Vio. I do assure you, 'tis against my will. asc [They draw. Enter Antonio. Ant. 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 To. You, sir! Why, what are you? ACT III. Sc. iv.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 123 355 A nt. One, sir, that for his love dares yet do more Than you have heard him brag to you he will Sir To. Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for you. [They draw. Enter Officers. Fab. good Sir Toby, hold! Here come the officers, seo Sir To. I'll be with you anon. Vio. Pray, sir, put your sword up, if you please. Sir And. Marry, will I, sir; and, for that I promised you, I'll be as good as my word. He will bear you easily and reins well. 365 First Off. This is the man; do thy office. Sec. Off. Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit of Count Orsino. Ant. You do mistake me, sir. First Off. No, sir, no jot. I know your favour well, STO Though now you have no sea-cap on your head. Take him away; he knows I know him well. Ant. I must obey. [To Vio.] This comes with seeking you. But there's no remedy ; I shall answer it. What will you do, now my necessity 375 Makes me to ask you for my purse? It grieves me Much more for what I cannot do for you 124 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT III. Sc. iv. Than what befalls myself. You stand amazed, But be of^comfort. Sec. Off. Come, sir, away. Ant. I must entreat of you some of that money. 380 Vio. What money, sir? For the fair kindness you have showed me here, And, part, being prompted by your present trouble, Out of my lean and low ability I'll lend you something. My having is not 385 much. I'll make division of my present with you. Hold, there's half my coffer. Ant. 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 390 As to upbraid you with those kindnesses That I have done for you. Vio. I know of none, Nor know I you by voice or any feature. I hate ingratitude more in a man Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, 395 Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption Inhabits our frail blood. Ant. heavens themselves! Sec. Off. Come, sir, I pray you, go. ACT III. So. iv.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 125 Ant. Let me speak a little. This youth that you see here 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, 136 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT IV. So. iii. 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 is Or else the lady's mad; yet, if 'twere so, She could not sway her house, command her followers, Take and give back affairs and their dispatch With such a smooth, discreet, and stable bearing As I perceive she does. There's something 20 in't That is deceivable. But here the lady comes. Enter Olivia and Priest. OIL 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, 25 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 so According to my birth. What do you say? ACT IV. Sc. iii.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 137 Seb. I'll follow this good man, and go with you; And, having sworn truth, ever will be true. OH. Then lead the way, good father; and heavens so shine. 8 That they may fairly note this act of mine! [Exeunt* ACT FIFTH. SCENE I. Before Olivia? s house. Enter Clown and Fabian. Fab. Now, as thou lovest me, let me see his letter. do. Good Master Fabian, grant me another request. Fab. Any thing. $ Clo. Do not desire to see this letter. Fab. This is to give a dog and in recompense desire my dog again. Enter Duke, Viola, Curio, and Lords. Duke. Belong you to the Lady Olivia, friends? Clo. Ay, sir, we are some of her trappings. 10 ' Duke. I know thee well ; how dost thou, my good fellow? Clo. Truly, sir, the better for my foes and the worse for my friends. Duke. Just the contrary; the better for ^,hy is friends. Clo. No, sir, the worse. Duke. How can that be? ACT V. So. i.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 139 Clo. Marry, sir, they praise me and make an ass 20 of me. Now my foes tell me plainly I am an ass; 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 affirm- 25 atives, why then, the worse for my friends and the better for my foes. Duke. Why, this is excellent. Clo. By my troth, sir, no ; though it please you to be one of my friends. wDuke. Thou shalt not be the worse for me. There's gold. Clo. But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I would you could make it another. "Duke. 0, you give me ill counsel. 35 Clo. Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this once, and let your flesh and blood obey it. Duke. Well, I will be so much a sinner, to be a double-dealer. There's another. Clo. Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play; and 40 the old saying is, the third pays for all. The triplex, sir, is a good tripping measure; or the bells of Saint Bennet, sir, may put you in mind; one, two, three. Duke. You can fool no more money out of me at 45 this throw. If you will let your lady know I am here to speak with her, and bring her along with you, it may awake my bounty further. 140 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT V. So. i. Clo. 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 covetousness ; but, as you say, sir, let your bounty take a nap, I will awake it anon. [Exit. Vio. Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me. Enter Antonio and Officers. . ,, ,*-Wl| Duke. That face of his I do remember well, .I i 'i-" -4 ' Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmeared 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 heeo make With the most noble bottom of our fleet, That very envy and the tongue of loss Cried fame and honour on him. What's the matter? First Off. Orsino, this is that Antonio That took the Phoenix and her fraught from 65 Candy, 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. Vio. He did me kindness, sir, drew on my side, TO ACT V. Sc. i.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 141 But in conclusion put strange speech upon me. I know not what 'twas but distraction. jDu^e./ Notable pirate ! Thou salt-water thief ! What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies re Whom thou, in terms so bloody and so dear, Hast made thine enemies? Ant. Orsino, noble sir, Be pleased that I shake off these names you give me. Antonio never yet was thief or pirate, Though I confess, on base and ground enough, so Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither. That most ingrateful boy there by your side, From the rude sea's enraged and foamy mouth Did I redeem. A wreck past hope he was. His life I gave him, and did thereto add 85 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; 90 Where being apprehended, his false cunning., Not meaning to partake with me in danger, Taught him to face me out of his acquaint- ance, 142 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT V. So. L And grew a twenty years removed thing While one would wink ; denied me mine own purse, Which I had recommended to his use 95 Not half an hour before. Vio. How can this be? Duke. When came he to this town? Ant. To-day, my lord; and for three months before, 4 No interim, not a minute's vacancy, Both day and night did we keep company. 100 Enter Olivia and Attendants. Duke. Here comes the countess; now heaven walks on earth. But for thee, fellow; fellow, thy words are madness. Three months this youth hath tended upon me; But more of that anon. Take him aside. Oli. W^hat would my lord, but that he may not 105 have, Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable? Cesario, you do not keep promise with me. Vio. Madam! Duke. Gracious Olivia, Oli. What do you say, Cesario? Good my lord, in Vio. My lord would speak ; my duty hushes me. Oli. If it be aught to the old tune, my lord, It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear ACT V. So. i.] TWELFTH NIGHT. j^s howling after music. Duke. Still so cruel ! 115 Oli. Still so constant, lord. Duke. What, to perverseness? You uncivil lady, To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars My soul the faithfull'st offerings have breathed out That e'er devotion tendered! What shall I do? 120 Oli. Even what it please my lord, that shall ^ become 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 That sometime savours nobly. But hear me this: 125 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. wo And whom, by heaven I swear, I tender dearly, Him will I tear out of that cruel eye, Where he sits crowned in his master's spite. Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mischief. I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love, IBS To spite a raven's heart within a dova 144 TWELFTH NIGHT [ACT V. So. i. Vio. And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly, To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die. OU. Where goes Cesario? Vio. After him I love More than I love these eyes, more than my life, More, by all mores, than e'er I shall love wife. 140 If I do feign, you witnesses above Punish my life for tainting of my love! OU. Ay me, detested! How am I beguiled! Vio. Who does beguile you? Who does do you wrong? OU. Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long? 145 Call forth the holy father. DuJce. Come, away! OU. Whither, my lord? Cesario, husband, stay. Duke. Husband ! OU. Ay, husband ! Can he that deny? UuJce. Her husband, sirrah ! Vio. No, my lord, not I. OU. Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear 150 That makes thee strangle thy propriety. Fear not, Cesario ; take thy fortunes up. Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art As great as that thou fear'st. Enter Priest. 0, welcome, father! Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence, i ACT V. So. i.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 14a Here to unfold, though lately we intended To keep in darkness what occasion now Eeveals before 'tis ripe, what thou dost know Hath newly passed between this youth and me. m Priest. A contract of eternal bond of love, Confirmed by mutual joinder of your hands, Attested by the holy close of lips, Strengthened by interchangement of youi rings; And all the ceremony of this compact 165 Sealed in my function, by my testimony ; Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave I have travelled but two hours. Duke. thou dissembling cub ! What wilt thou be When time hath sowed a grizzle on thy case? 170 Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow, That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow? Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feet Where thou and I henceforth may never meet. Vio. My lord, I do protest Oh. 0, do not swear! ITS Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear. Enter Sir Andrew. Sir And. For the love of God, a surgeon! Send one presently to Sir Toby. 146 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT V. So. L Oil. What's the matter? Sir And. He has broke my head across and has given Sir Toby a bloody coxcomb too. For iso the love of God, your help ! I had rather than forty pound I were at home. Oli. Who has done this, Sir Andrew? Sir And. The count's gentleman, one Cesario. We took him for a coward, but he's the very 185 devil incardinate. Duke. My gentleman, Cesario? Sir And. 'Od's lifelings, here he is! You broke my head for nothing; and that that I did, I was set on to do't by Sir Toby, 190 Vio. 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. Sir And. If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me. I think you set nothing by a 195 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. 200 Duke. How now, gentleman! How is't with you? Sir To. That's all one. Has hurt me, and there's the end on't. Sot, didst see Dick surgeon, sot? ACT V. So. i.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 147 SOB Clo. 0, he's drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone. His eyes were set at eight i' the morning. Sir To. Then he's a rogue, and a passy measures pavin. I hate a drunken rogue. Oli. Away with him! Who hath made this 210 havoc with them? Sir And. I'll help you, Sir Toby, because we'll be dressed together. Sir To. Will you help? An ass-head and a cox- comb and a knave, a thin-faced knave, a gull ! 215 Oli. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be looked to. [Exeunt Clown, Fabian, Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew. Enter Sebastian. Seb. I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kins- man; 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 220 I do perceive it hath offended yon. 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! 225 Seb. Antonio, my dear Antonio ! How have the hours racked and tortured me, Since I have lost thee ! Ant. Sebastian are you? Seb. Fear'st thou that, Antonio? 148 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT V. Sc. i. Ant. How have you made division of yourself? An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin 230 Than these two creatures. Which is Sebas- tian? OH. Most wonderful ! Seb. Do I stand there? I never had a brother, Nor can there be that deity in my nature, Of here and every where. I had a sister, 235 Whom the blind waves and surges have devoured. Of charity, what kin are you to me? What countryman? What name? What parentage? Vio. Of Messaline; Sebastian was my father; Such a Sebastian was my brother too ; 240 So went he suited to his watery tomb. If spirits can assume both form and suit You come to fright us. Sri. A spirit I am indeed; But am in that dimension grossly clad Which from my birth I did participate. 245 Were you a woman, as the rest goes even, I should my tears let fall upon your cheek, And say, "Thrice welcome, drowned Viola!" Vio. My father had a mole upon his brow. Seb. And so had mine. 250 Vio. And died that day when Viola from her birth Had numbered thirteen years. Set. 0, that record is lively in my soul! ACT V. So. i.] TWELFTH NIGHT. H9 He finished indeed his mortal act 855 That day that made my sister thirteen years Vio. If nothing lets to make us happy both But this my masculine usurped attire, Do not embrace me till each circumstance Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and jump 260 That I am Viola ; which to confirm, I'll bring you to a captain in this town, Where lie my maiden weeds ; by whose gentle help I was preserved to serve this noble count. All the occurrence of my fortune since 265 Hath been between this lady and this lord. Sel. [To Olivia.'} So comes it, lady, you have been mistook; But nature to her bias drew in that. You would have been contracted to a maid; Nor are you therein, by my life, deceived, 270 You are betrothed both to a maid and man. " Duke. Be not amazed, right noble is his blood. If this be so, as yet the glass seems true, I shall have share in this most happy wreck. [To Viola.] Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times 275 Thou never shouldst love woman like to me. Vio. And all those sayings will I over-swear; And all those swearings keep as true in soul As doth that orbed continent the fire . That severs day from night, Duke. Give me thy hand, J50 TWELFTH NIGHT. [Acr V. So. i. And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds, sso Vio. The captain that did bring me first on shore Hath my maid's garments. He upon some action Is now in durance, at Malvolio's suit, A gentleman, and follower of my lady's. Oli. He shall enlarge him ; fetch Malvolio hither. 28S And yet, alas, now I remember me, They say, poor gentleman, he's much dis- tract. Re-enter Clown with a letter ', and Fabian. A most extracting frenzy of mine own From my remembrance clearly banished his. How does he, sirrah? 290 do. Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the stave's end as well as a man in his case may do. 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 295 not much when they are delivered. OH, Open't, and read it. (Jlo. Look then to be well edified wlien the fool delivers the madman. [Reads. ] "By the Lord, madam," soo OU. How now, art thou mad? CTo. No, madam, I do but read madness. An your ladyship will have it as it ought to be, you must allow Vox. OU. Prithee, read i' thy right wits. aos ACT V. So. i.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 151 Clo. So I do, madonna; but to read his right wits is to read thus ; therefore perpend, my princess, and give ear. Oil. Read it you, sirrah. [To Fabian. mFab. [Reads.] "By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and the world shall know it. Though you have put me into darkness and given your drunken cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my senses as well as 815 your ladyship. I have your own letter that induced me to the semblance I put on; with the which I doubt not but to do myself much right, or you much shame. Think of me as you please. I leave my duty a little un- 820 thought of and speak out of my injury* THE MADLY-USED MALVQLIO." Oli. Did he write this? Clo. Ay, madam. IDukel This savours not much of distraction. 825 Oli. See him delivered, 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, One day shall crown the alliance on't, s0 please you, Here at my house and at my proper cost. ej Madam, I am most apt to embrace your offer. V52 TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT V. Sc. i [To Viola.] Your master quits you; and for your service done him, So much against the mettle of your sex, SG far beneath your soft and tender breeding, And since you called me master for so long, Here is my hand. You shall from this time 335 be Your master's mistress. Oli. A sister ! You are she. Re-enter Fabian, witli Malvolio. Duke. Is this the madman? Oli. Ay, my lord, this same. How now, Malvolio ! Mai. Madam, you have done me wrong, Notorious wrong. Oli. Have I, Malvolio? No. Mai. Lady, you have. Pray you, peruse that34o letter. You must not now deny it is your hand. Write from it, if you can, in hand or phrase; Or say 'tis not your seal, not your invention. You can say none of this. Well, grant it then And tell me, in the modesty of honour, 345 Why you have given me such clear lights of favour, Bade me come smiling and cross-gartered to you, To put on yellow stockings and to frow* ACT V. Sc. i.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 153 Upon Sir Toby and the lighter people; 850 And, acting this in an obedient hope, Why have you suffered me to be imprisoned f Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest^ And made the most notorious geek and gull That e'er invention played on? Tell me why. 355 Oil. Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing, Though, I confess, much like the character; But out of question 'tis Maria's hand. And now I do bethink me, it was she First told me thou wast mad. Thou earnest in smiling, 360 And in such forms which here were pre- supposed Upon thee in the letter. Prithee, be content. This practice hath most shrewdly passed upon thee; But when we know the grounds and authors of it, Thoushaltbeboth the plaintiff and the judge 365 Of thine own cause. Fab. Good madam, hear me speak, And let no quarrel nor no brawl to come Taint the condition of this present hour, Which I have wondered at. In hope it shall not, Most freely I confess, myself and Toby 370 Set this device against Malvolio here, Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts We had conceived against him. Maria writ TWELFTH NIGHT. [ACT V. Sc. i. The letter at Sir Toby's great importance, In recompense whereof he hath married her. How with a sportful malice it was followed 375 \f ay rather pluck on laughter than revenge, If that the injuries be justly weighed That have on both sides passed. Oli. Alas, poor fool, how have they baffled thee! Clo. Why, "some are born great, some achieve 380 greatness, and some have greatness thrown upon them." I was one, sir, in this inter- lude; 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 385 such a barren rascal? An you smile not, he's gagged." And thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges. Mai. I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you. [Exit. Oli. He hath been most notoriously abused. 390 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 con- vents, A solemn combination shall be made Of our dear souls. Meantime, sweet sister, 395 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, Orsino's mistress and his fancy's queen. [Exeunt all, except Clown. ACT V. So. i.] TWELFTH NIGHT. 155 Clo. [Sings.] 400 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, 405 With hey, ho, &c. 'Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate, For the rain, &c. But when I came, alas ! to wive, With hey, ho, &c. no By swaggering could I never thrive. For the rain, &c. But when I came unto my beds, With hey, ho, &c. With toss-pots still had drunken heads us For the rain, &c. A great while ago the world begun, With hey, ho, &c. But that's all one, our play is done, And we'll strive to please you every day. [Exit. NOTES. ABBREVIATIONS. A. The Arden Shakespeare. Twelfth Night, ed. by A. D. Innis. Abbott. A Shakespearian Grammar, by E. A. Abbott, London, 1879. Clar. Clarendon Press Series, ed. by W. Aldis Wright. Var. The Variorum Shakespeare, ed. by H. H. Purness. N. E. D. A New English Dictionary on Historical Prin- ciples, ed. by J. A. H. Murray, Henry Bradley, and W. A. Craigie. TITLE. Twelfth Wight, or What You Will. Twelfth Night is the eve of the festival of the Epiphany, the celebration of the visit of the Magi to the infant Christ, occurring on the sixth of January, or twelve days after Christmas. It marked the close of the Christmas festivities, and was often cele- brated by plays and similar entertainments. It is probable that the title, which bears no reference to the contents of the drama, was given because of the date of its first perform- ance. The sub-title may be taken as indicating Shakspere's indifference as to what it might be called. ACT I. I. i. The first scene strikes the sentimental note which is the key to Orsino's character, and indicates his relation to Olivia, which is the basis of the main plot. I. i. 3. The appetite. I.e., for music, not love. I. i. 4. Fall. Cadence. I. i. 5. Sound. This word has been much questioned, and many editors have adopted Pope's substitution of "south." But it seems necessary merely to understand it as a poetic shortening of "sound of the wind." I. i. 9. Quick. Living. Li. 12. Validity. Value. Pi1*h. Height of worth. 156 NOTES. 157 I. i. 14. Fancy. Love. This use is frequent in Shakspere. Of. Merchant of Venice, III. ii. 63-64, Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart or in the head? I. i. 15. That it is the one most : highly imaginative state. I. i. 17. Hart. This pun occurs elsewhere in Shakspere. Cf. Julius Caesar, III. i. 207-208, O world, thou wast the forest to this hart, And this, indeed, O world, the heart of thee; and also As You Like It, III. ii. 260. I. i. 18. The noblest. I.e., Olivia's. I. i. 21. Turned into a hart. The allusion, a common one in Elizabethan literature, is to the story of Actaeon, who, having looked on Diana bathing, was turned into a stag, and torn by his own hounds. I. i. 24. So please. May it so please. I. i. 26. Element. Air or sky. Seven years' heat. Seven summers. I. i. 33-34. That fine frame to pay. So finely constituted as to pay. I. i. 35. Golden shaft. The allusion is to a fancy, frequent in poetry since Ovid, that Cupid had arrows tipped with dif ferent metals, those with gold causing love, those with lead, hate, etc. I. i. 37. Liver, brain, and heart. According to the old pop- ular belief, these organs were the seats of the passions, th* reason, and the sentiments, respectively. I. i. 39. Self. Single. The general sense of the passage is, "When all her powers and perfections are dominated by one person, i.e., her husband." I. i. 40-41. Note that the scene ends as it began, with an utterance expressive of the Duke's self-indulgent nursing oi his emotions. I. ii. This short scene carries on the exposition of the initial situation by introducing the heroine, giving further details about Orsino and Olivia and their mutual relations, and providing a motive for Viola's disguise. The later appearance of Sebastian is also prepared for. 158 NOTES. I. ii. 1, 2. For metre cf. Introduction, p. 36, 3. I. ii. 5. Perchance. Used here and in line 7 in the ordinary sense of "perhaps," in line 6, punningly, in the original sense of "by chance." I. ii. 10. Those poor number. Number is taken as a col- lective, and the demonstrative made to agree with the plu- ral idea. Cf. I. v. 100. I. ii. 14. Lived. The usual sailors' word for "remained afloat." I. ii. 15. Arion. The Greek musician, who, according to the fable, when thrown overboard by sailors who wished to get his wealth, was borne ashore by the dolphins which had gathered round the ship to listen to his lyre. I. ii. 17, 18. For metre see Introduction, p. 36, 3 I. ii. 21. The like. A like escape. For metre see Intro- duction, p. 38, 6. I. ii. 42. Delivered. Declared, made manifest. I. ii. 43-44. The Folios have no comma after mellow, which must then be taken as a verb, giving the sense, "Till I had made my opportunity ripen my condition (which at present is not ripe for exposure)." With the punctuation in the text, mellow is an adjective, and the sense is, "O that I might not be exposed as to my condition, till I had made a ripe opportunity." I. ii. 53. Me. For this redundant object cf. I. v. 281, "I see you what you are." I. ii. 59. Allow. Cause to be acknowledged. I. ii. 62. Mute. Mutes are frequently associated with eunuchs in accounts of Eastern courts. I. iii. This scene introduces the characters of the comic underplot. Being farcical, it is written in prose. I. iii. 1. A plague. An interjectional phrase like "the mis- chief." Its full form was probably, "In the name of the plague." I. iii. 5. Cousin. This word was used to denote a much wider range of relationship than at present, and its use here does not contradict the implication of "niece" in line 1. Cf. As You Like It, I. iii. 44, "Ros. Me, uncle? Duke F. You, cousin." I. iii. 7. Except before excepted. A formal law phrase NOTES. 159 which the sound of "exceptions" called to Sir Toby's mind. Many of his jokes have no point except as expressing the muddled workings of a besotted mind. Cf . his next speech. I. iii. 9. Modest. Moderate. I. iii. 21. Tall. Bold, manly. I. iii. 28. Viol-de-gamboys. The bass-viol or violoncello; Italian, viola da gamba, so called because held between the legs. I. iii. 31. Almost natural. Almost like a "natural" or idiot. I. iii. 34. Oust. Relish. . I. iii. 38. Substractors. A drunken error for "detractors." I. iii. 45. Coystrill. A base fellow. I. iii. 47. Parish top. "A large top was formerly kept in every village, to be whipped in frosty weather, that the peasants may be kept warm by exercise, and out of mischief, while they could not work." Steevens, in Var. Castiliano vulgo. If this phrase had any meaning for Sir Toby, it is now lost. I. iii. 56. Chambermaid. Not in the modern sense, for Maria is called by Olivia "my gentlewoman" (I. v. 182-83) and seems to act as lady's maid and companion to her mistress. I. iii. 62. Board. The naval term, used often by Shak- spere in the sense of "address," "woo." I. iii. 75. Thought is free. Maria quotes the proverb in answer to Sir Andrew's question in line 71, meaning to say that she can think if she likes that she has to do with a fool. I. iii. 76. Buttery-bar. The ledge along the top of the half -door, over which liquor was served from the butts in the cellar. I. iii. 80-84. Dry. The play here is on the different senses of "dry" (1) opposed to moist figuratively, a moist hand being taken as a sign of amorousness ; (2) opposed to moist literally; (3) stupid. I. iii. 87. Barren. I.e., of jests. I. iii. 88. Canary. A sweet wine from the Canary Islands. I. iii. 89. Put down. Got the better of. I. iii. 106. Sir Andrew misses Sir Toby's pun on "tongues" and "tongs," which were once pronounced alike. I. iii. 108. Curl by nature. This is Theobald's emendation 6 166 NOTES. for the Folio reading "coole my nature," which obscureu both the play on "tongues" and that on art and nature. I. iii. 115. Count. In I. ii. 25 and in the prefixes to his speeches, Or si no is called Duke; elsewhere, as here, Count. The inconsistency seems to be a mere oversight. I. iii. 124. Kickshawses. Trifles. The singular "kick- shaw" is a corruption of the French quelque chose, something, anything. I. iii. 129. Galliard. A lively dance. I. iii. 133. Bach-trick. Exactly what feat in dancing is here re/erred to has not been certainly made out. I. iii. 137-38. Mistress MalVs picture. It is probable that the name here is merely typical. No plausible identification has been made. I. iii. 140. Coranto. A dance with a running or gliding step. Fr., courante. L iii. 147. Darned coloured stock. The color of Sir An- drew's stocking has caused much controversy. The Folio reading, preserved here, suggests merely "damned," which is not impossible. The favorite emendations have been "flame," "damask," "dove," "damson," etc., none of which is convincing. I. iii. 149. Taurus. The reference is to the astrological belief that each of the signs of the zodiac affected a part of the human body. Taurus governed the neck and throat, so that both knights are in error. I. iv. This scene presents the beginning of the main com- plication Viola's love for Orsino, and her office as proxy- wooer of Olivia. I. iv. 5. Humour. Caprice, or disposition. Both senses are common in Shakspere. I. iv. 14. But. Used by Shakspere for "than" after negatives. . iv. 21. Spoke. See Introduction, p. 40, 3, (c) , . iv. 22. Civil bounds. See Introduction, p. 39, 1. . iv. 29. Nuncio. Messenger. , iv. 33. Rubious. Ruby-colored. , iv, 34. Sound. Not broken or cracked. . w 35. Semblative. Resembling. This word is not found elsewhere. NOTES. 161 I. iv. 36. Thy constellation. The constellation under which fou were born and which determined your temperament; 60, here, your qualities in general. I iv. 42. Barful. Full of hindrances. Strife. Attempt. I. v. The pause between this scene and the previous one is longer than that between I. v. and II. i., a fact which has led Spedding and others to begin the second act here. I. v. 6. Fear no colours. Fear nothing, the flag of no foe. The phrase was common and is introduced here to permit a pun on "collars" with reference to hanging. I. v. 9. Lenten. Lean, spare, like meals in Lent. I. v. 22-23. For turning away . . . out. As for being dis- missed, let summer (when food and lodging are easily had) make it supportable. Others suggest puns on "turning away" and "turning of whey," or "turning o> hay." Clar suggests, "Wait till summer comes, and see if it is true" implying that such threats had been frequent. I. v. 26. Points. Maria goes on to pun on "points" in the sense of the laces with metal points that were used on the clothing instead of buttons in the present instance, to fasten the hose to the doublet. I. v. 28. Gaskins. Breeches or hose. I. v. 35. You were best. Originally "you" in this phrase was a dative, the full phrase being "it were best for you." Cf . II. ii. 28, III. iv. 12, and Abbott . 230. I. v. 40. Quinapalus. An imaginary authority, quoted in ridicule of the pedantic fashion of the time. Witty. Wise. I. v. 46. Dry. Stupid. Cf. I. iii. 80-84, note. I. v. 47. Dishonest. Badly behaved. I. v. 48. Madonna. My lady. I. v. 53. Botcher. Patcher. I. v. 58-59. As there is . . . flower. In this nonsensical parody of a proverb, the clown is merely talking to postpone the scolding he expects. I. v. 63. Misprision. Mistake, or, in law, criminal neglect in regard to the crime of another. It is not likeiy that Shakspere meant the clown to use it accurately. I. v. 64. Cucullus, etc. The cowl does not make the monk. I. v. 69. Dexteriously. This may not be intended for a wrong form, as both "dexterious" and "dexteriousiy" 162 NOTES. are found several times in 17th century works. See N. E. D. I. v. 71-72. Good my. My good ; formed on the analogy of phrases like "good my lord," in which the possessive lias become attached to the noun, as in Pr. monsieur, or ItaL madonna. Cf. II. v. 195-96, "Dear my sweet. " I. v. 72. Mouse of virtue. Virtuous mouse. "Mouse" was an affectionate term, and its use here indicates the extent of the license permitted to professional fools. For the form of the phrase, see Introduction, p. 39, 1. I. v. 95. With. For this use of with for "by," of. Julius Caesar, III. ii. 201, "Marr'd, as you see, with traitors." I. v. 100. These set kind of fools. The plural demonstrative here may be explained like "those" in I. ii. 10, "those poor number," or as due to the attraction of the plural "fools." It is a common colloquial mistake in modern speech. I. v. 101. Fools' zanies. "A fool's zany is a buffoon who imitates the real fool in a grotesque manner." [Clar.] I. v. 103. Distempered. Disordered, unhealthy. I. v. 105. Bird-bolts. Blunt arrows shot from a cross-bow I. v. 107. Allowed. Licensed, professional. I. v. 108. Nor no. See Introduction, p. 41, 4, (a) I. v. 110. Leasing. Lying. Mercury was the god of liars. I. v. 112-13. Gentleman much desires. For omission of the relative cf . Abbott, 244, and line 206, below. I. v. 119-120. Speaks nothing but madman. Speaks only madman's nonsense. I. v. 126. SpoHe. See Introduction, p. 40, 3, (c). L v. 128. Here he comes. I.e., Sir Toby. I. v. 129. Pia mater. The inner membrane of the brain ; used here for the brain itself. I. v. 146. Heat. The point where wine makes him warm. I. v. 149. Crowner. Coroner. I. v. 164. Sheriff's post. Carved and painted posts were .set up before the houses of mayors and sheriffs. I. v. 165. But. Unless. Cf . line 307, below. I. v. 174. Squash. An unripe {Jeascod. I. v. 175. Codling. Usually, a hard kind of apnle ; here, an unripe one. NOTE&. 1 63 I. v. 176. In standing water. "In the condition of standing water" [Clar.], i.e., between ebb and flow. I. v. 178. Shrewishly. Sharply. I. v. 195. Con. Learn by heart. I. v. 197. Comptible . . . usage. Sensitive to the least ill treatment. (Or comptible may mean "likely to call people to account.") I. v. 201. Modest. Cf. I. iii. 9, note. I. v. 205. My profound heart. Used with playful reference to Olivia's cleverness in detecting the theatrical allusions in Viola's use of "speech," "con," "part," "studied," etc. I. v. 205-206. By the very fangs, etc. The most malicious inquiry could find out nothing worse about me than that I am not, etc. I. v. 211. From. Out of. I. v. 212. Will on. See Introduction, p. 40, 3, (d). I. v. 215. Forgive. Excuse you from uttering. I. v. 224. That time of moon. The reference is to the sup- posed effect of the moon in causing or increasing lunacy. I. v. 228. Swabber. From swab, to clean the decks, etc., of a ship. Hull. Float without hoisting sail. I. v. 229. Giant. From II. iii. 202, II. v. 15, and III. ii. 72, it appears that Maria was small. I. v. 230. Tell me your mind. If these words belong to Viola, the meaning seems to be, "Do you assent to your attendant's attempt to put me out?" Many editors give the words to Olivia. I. v. 236. Overture. Declaration. Taxation. Demand. I. v. 237. Olive. The symbol of peace. I. v. 242. Entertainment. Reception. I. v. 244. Maidenhead. Maidenhood. I. v. 250. Comfortable. Comforting a Scriptural usage, in keeping with the figure introduced by Viola's use of "divinity." I. v. 263-64. Such a one I was this present. With this punctuation (the dash is not in the Folios), the sense is as follows : Olivia is using the conventional language of show- ing a portrait. "Such a one I was" would be the common phrase, followed by "at such and such a date." But the 164 NOTES. date of portraiture is this present, even now. There have been many conjectural emendations. I. v. 264. Well done. Here she still keeps up the language of portraiture. The idea of an artificial complexion is not introduced before Viola's next speech. I. y. 266. 'Tis in grain. I.e., it will not wash out. The phrase originally had reference to a seed-like insect from which a fast dye was made. I. v. 270. She. For "she" used for "woman," cf. As You Like It, III. ii. 10, "The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive she." I. v. 276. Labelled. "Label" had a special sense of a paper appended to a will, a codicil. Item. Likewise, used to intro- duce each new article in an enumeration. I. v. 280. Praise. Appraise, value. The preceding enu- meration suggests the valuator's term. I. v. 281. You. Cf. I. ii. 53. I. v. 286. For metre, see Introduction, p. 36, 3. I. v. 291. Voices. Public opinion. Divulged. Reputed. Free. Generous. I. v. 292. Dimension. Bodily shape. Cf . v. i. 244. I. v. 293. Gracious. Physically attractive. I. v. 294. Took. See Introduction, p. 40, 3, (c). I. v. 295. In my master's flame. With as fierce a passion as my master. I. v. 299. Willow. The symbol of rejected love. I. v. 301. Cantons. Cantos. I. v. 303. Reverberate. Usually and properly in a passive sense, but here = "reverberant," "echoing." I. v. 307. But. Cf. I. v. 165. I. v. 309. State. Estate, condition. I. v. 324. Blazon. Description of armorial bearings. Her gentility is proclaimed by her whole manner and appearance as clearly as it would be by the coat of arms of her family. For metre, see Introduction, p. 37, 4. I. v. 331. Peevish. Foolish. The word is here merely a vague term of disapproval, used by Olivia to disguise he/ feelings. I. v. 333. County. Count. I. v. 335. Flatter with. See Introduction, p. 41, 5, (b) NOTES. 165 I. v. 840-41. I fear that my mind (i.e., my heart) will not be able to resist the too favorable impression conveyed through my eyes. I. v. 342. Owe, Own. ACT II. II. i. This scene, which introduces the remaining- impor- tant character, appears to be out of place. II. ii. follows immediately on I. v., and Innis shows "that a night inter- venes between II. ii. and the concluding scenes of the play : whereas a night does not intervene between Sebastian's parting from Antonio and the final scene." Var. notes that in Irving' s acting version II. i. becomes III. ii. The scene is entirely Shakspere's invention, as no charac- ter corresponding to Antonio occurs in any other known ver- sion of the story. II. i. 1. Nor . . . not. See Introduction, p. 41, 4, (a). II. i. 5. Distemper. Influence harmfully. II. ic 12. Extravagancy. Aimless wandering. "My jour- ney to a fixed destination is not such at all." II. i. 15. It charges me in manners. Courtesy compels me. II. i. 16. Express. Reveal. II. i. 25. Breach of the sea. Breakers. II. i. 31. Such estimable wonder. Wonder that estimates her so highly. II. i. 39. Murder me by breaking my heart over losing you. II. i. 49. Gentleness. Favor. II. ii. 8. Desperate. Hopeless. II. ii. 10-11. So hardy to come. So bold as to come. II. ii. 13. So. On those terms. II. iic 15. Peevishly. A reminiscence of Olivia's adjective in I. v. 331. II. ii. 20. Forbid . . . not. This is a sort of double nega- tive,, See Introduction, p. 41, 4, (a). II. ii. 22. Sure. This word is not found in the first Folio, but is adopted from the later Folios to complete the metre. Lost. Caused her to lose. II. ii. 28. She were better. Cf. I. v. 35, and III. iv. 12. n. ii. 30. Pregnant. Ready, clever. Cf . III. i. 97. Enemy, Devil. 166 NOTES. II. ii. 81. Proper-false. Handsome but faise. II. ii. 35. Fadge. Suit the situation. II. ii. 36. Fond. Dote. II. ii. 41. Thriftless. Profitless. II. iii. 3. Deluculo surgere saluberrimum est. To rise early is most healthful. This is a quotation from Lilly's Latin Gram- mar, the usual Latin text-book in Shakspere's school- days. II. iii. 10-11. The four elements. Earth, air, fire, and water, of which all bodies were supposed to be constituted. II. iii. 15. Stoup. Drinking cup. II. iii. 18. The picture of "we three." The reference is to a common picture of two fools or asses, with an inscription, "We three are fools" (or asses, or loggerheads), the specta- tor being the third. II. iii. 19. Catch. Part-song. II. iii. 21. Breast. Voice. II. iii. 25-26. Pigrogromitus . . . Queubus. This is, of course, merely Sir Andrew's unintelligible version of the fool's Intentional nonsense. II. iii. 28. Leman. Sweetheart. II. iii. 29. I did impeticos, etc. The only comment neces- sary is the next speech. II. iii. 37. TestrU.. Sixpence. II. iii. 43 ff. O mistress mine, etc. This song appears in print as early as 1599, and is quite possibly not Shakspere's. Cf. Introduction, p. 30. II. iii. 55. Sweet and twenty. This has been variously interpreted: (1) as referring to the kisses; (2) sweet as a vocative, and twenty, referring to the kisses. This requires a comma after sweet. (3) The whole phrase as a vocative. II. iii. 59. Contagious breath. Sir Toby seems to use the word contagious on the chance that Sir Andrew will take it up without understanding it, as he immediately does. Breath is ambiguous, meaning: (1) voice, as in line 22, above; (2) breath, in the modern sense, as is implied in. the use of nose in line 61. II. iii. 62. Welkin. Sky. II. iii. 64. Three souls, etc. Simply a humorous exaggera- tion of the power of music. It is highly improbable that any NOTES. 16? reference to the peripatetic philosophy, such as some have found here, was intended. II. iii. 66-67. Dog at. Good at ; a slang phrase. II. iii. 84. Catalan. Properly a native of Cataia or Cathay, i.e., China. The word seems to have been used vaguely for "rogue." II. iii. 85. Peg-a-Ramsey. A name caught at random froir an old song. II. iii. 85-86. "Three merry men be we." A fragment of an old song. II. iii. 87-88. Tillyvally. A common expression of con- tempt. II. iii. 88-89. "There dwelt," etc. Another fragment of an old song, suggested apparently by his contemptuous repe- tition of Maria's "Lady." n. iii. 95. "0, the twelfth,'" etc. This song has not been identified. II. iii. 102. Coziers*. Cobblers'. Men of sedentary occupa- tions, such as weavers, tailors, and cobblers, are often referred to as given to singing. II. iii. 107. Snech up! Shut up! II. iii. 108. Round. Direct, outspoken. II. iii. 116 ff. "Farewell," etc. This and the six following fragments are from Cory don's Farewell to Phyllis, which appeared in Eobert Jones's Booke of Ayres, 1601. See In- troduction, p. 30. II. iii. 132. Cakes and ale. The reference is to the riotous eating and drinking at church festivals, of which the Puri- tans strongly disapproved. See line 160, below. II. iii. 135-36. Rub your chain. Mind your own business. The chain was the badge of office of a steward. II. iii. 139-40. Uncivil rule. Disorderly behavior. II. iii. 153. A nayword. The Folios read "an ay word," which is not found elsewhere. It seems to be used as = "bye word. " II. iii. 157. Possess us. Put us into possession, tell us. II. iii. 168. Affectioned. Affected. II. iii. 169. Cons state. Learns dignity by heart. Utters. Gives out, not necessarily in words. II. iii. 170. Swarths. Corrupt form of "swaths." A swath is what falls within a single sweep of a scythe. ' 168 NOTES. II. iii. 170-71. Best persuaded of himself. Most convinced of his own merits, most conceited. II. iii. 180. Expressure. Expression. So "impressure" in II. v. 101. II. iii. 181-82. Feelingly personated. Exactly described. II. iii. 183. On a forgotten matter. In the case of a piece of writing- which neither of us can remember having done. II. iii. 190-91. A horse of that colour. Cf. As You Like It, III. ii. 434-35, "Boys and women are for the most part cattle of this colour." II. iii. 194. Ass. Shakspere again puns on "as" and "253" in Hamlet, V. ii. 43, "Many such-like ^ises of great charge. 5 II. iii. 202. Penthesilea. Queen of the Amazons. Another reference to Maria's small size. Cf. I. v. 229, note. II. iii. 209. Recover. Win. II. iii. 210. Out. Out of pocket. II. iii. 212. Cut. A term of contempt; probably from cut, a horse. II. iii. 215. Burn some sack. Sack was a Spanish wine. "The derivation of the word is no doubt from sec, dry ; not because sack was a dry wine in the modern sense of the word, but because it was made of grapes which in a very hot summer were dried almost to raisins by the sun, and so contained a large quantity of sugar." [Clar.] To burn or mull sack was to warm and spice it. II. iv. 3. Antique. Quaint. "Antic" and "antique" were not as clearly differentiated as now. The Folio spelling is "anticke." For accent see Introduction, p. 37, 6. II. iv. 5. Recollected terms. Carefully elaborated, or, per- haps, conventional phrases, as opposed to the "old and plain" (1. 43) language of the antique song. II. iv. 18. Motions. Mental and emotional activities. II. iv. 24. Favour. Countenance. II. iv. 25. By your favour. Viola is secretly punning upon the two senses: (1) By your grace or leave; (2) Upon your countenance. II. iv. 30. Wears she to. Comes to fit. II. iv. 31. Sways she level. Rules steadily. II. iv. 37. Bent. The figure is from a strung bow, and NOTES. 169 may mean either "curve," and so "inclination," or "degree of tension," and so "force," "capacity." II. iv. 44. Spinster. In the original sense of "a woman who spins." II. iv. 45. Free. Care-free. Bones. Usually explained as the bobbins made of bone used in lace-making. II. iv. 46. Silly sooth. Simple truth. II. iv. 48. The old age. The good old times. II. iv. 51 ff. Song. Some have doubted whether this be the original song, as it has seemed to them not to fit the Duke's description. The songs in plays were often left to ^^ choice of the actor. I. iv. 52. Cypress. It Is disputed whether this means, a shroud of cypress, i.e., crape; (2) a coffin of cypress wood; or (3) a bier strewn with sprigs of cypress. The fifth line of the song seems to favor (2) . II. iv. 75. Taffeta. Silk. II. iv. 89. For metre, see Introduction, pp. 35-36, 1. II. iv. 94. There is ... sides. See Introduction, p. 39, 3 r (a). Note the Duke's characteristic inconsistency in his statements about women and love. II. iv. 97. Retention. Power of retaining. II. iv. 99. Motion. Emotion. The liver was supposed to be the seat of the passions. II. iv. 100. The antecedent of that is contained in "their." Cloyment. Cloying. II. iv. 110. For metre, see Introduction, pp. 35-36, 1. II. iv. 113. Thought. Sorrow, melancholy, brooding. II. iv. 116. Smiling, of course, goes with "she," not with "patience." II. iv. 123. Shall I to. See Introduction, p. 40, 3, (d). II. iv. 125. Denay. Denial. II. v. 1. Ways. Originally an adverbial genitive. II. v. 6. Sheep-biter. A dog that has acquired the habit of biting sheep becomes worthless. So the phrase is used as a general term of reproach, like "cur." II. v. 9-10. Bear-baiting was one of the sports most rep- robated by the Puritans. II. v. 16. Metal of India. Gold. II. v. 19. Behaviour. Deportment. 170 NOTES. II. v. 23. Close. Hide yourselves. II. v. 27. Affect. Love. II. v. 29. Fancy. Love. II. v. 31. Follows. I.e., as a servant. II. v. 35. Jets. Struts. II. v. 36. Advanced. Up-reared. II. v. 37. 'Slight. God's light. II. v. 43-44. Tlie Lady of the Strachy. Evidently an allusion to a lost story of the marriage of a lady of rank to a servant. II. v. 45. Jezebel. That Sir Andrew should be ignorant enough to call Malvolio by a woman's name is quite in character, so that no emendation is necessary. II. v. 47. Blows. Puffs up. II. v. 49. State. Chair of state. II. v. 50. Stone-bow. A cross-bow which shoots stones. II. v. 52. Branched. With a pattern of flowers and leaves. II. v. 53. Day-bed. Couch. II. v. 56. Humour of state. The caprices allowed to a man of rank. II. v. 57. A demure travel of regard. A grave glance round. Cf . line 71, below. II. v. 65. My. This dash was suggested by Dr. Brins- ley Nicholson, who thus interprets: "While Sir Toby is being fetched to the presence, the Lord Malvolio would frowningly wind up his watch or play with and here from force of habit he fingers [his badge of office] , and is about to add 'play with my chain,' but suddenly remem- bering that he would be no longer a steward, or other gold- chained attendant, he stops short, and then confusedly alters his phrase to 'some rich jewel.' " [Quoted in Var.J II. v. 71. Regard. Look. Cf. line 57, above. II. v. 89. What employment, etc. Merely a grandiloquent phrase for "What's this?" (Some editors read "imple- ment.") II. v. 90. Woodcock. Proverbial for its stupidity. Cf. Hamlet, I. iii. 115, "Springes to catch woodcocks." Gin. Snare. II. v. 91-92. Intimate. Suggest. II. v 94-95. Many critics have been disturbed because NOTES. 171 neither C nor P occurs in the address of the letter. But the objection is that of a reader, and Shakspere wrote for an audience. II. v. 95-96. In contempt of question. "So obvious that to question it is absurd." [Clar.j II. v. 101. Impressure. Cf. II. iii. 180, note. II. v. 102. Lucrece. The type of the chaste woman. II. v. 110. Numbers altered. I.e., the metre of the next stanza is different. II. v. 112. Brock. Badger, used as a term of contempt. II. v. 116. M, 0, A, I. The letters are probably chosen merely to mystify Malvolio as they do. II. v. 117. Fustian. Pretentious and worthless. II. v. 122. Staniel. A kind of hawk. Checks. Turns aside from its proper prey. II. v. 126-27. Any formal capacity. Any mind in good form or order. II. v. 134. Sowter. Apparently the name of a hound. Cry upon't, as a dog does when he gets the scent. The passage is puzzling, and would certainly be simpler if we read a negative after "be," as Hanmer suggested. For, if the scent is as rank as a fox, it is inconsistent to refer to it as cold (1. 133) or as at fault (1. 139) . II. v. 139. Faults. Breaks in the line of scent. [N.E.D.] II. v. 140-41. I.e., "What follows does not work out con- sistently. It breaks down when examined." II. v. 150. This simulation, etc. This concealed meaning is not so intelligible as "I may command," etc. II. v. 151. Crash. Force. II. v. 153. Are. See Introduction, p. 40, 3, (b). II. v. 159. Blood. Courage. II. v. 161. Slough. The cast skin of a snake. II. v. 162. Opposite. Contradictory. II. v. 163-64. Tang arguments of state. Pronounce emphatic- ally on state affairs. II. v. 165. Trick of singularity. Individual eccentricities of manner. II. v. 173. Alter services. Exchange places. II. v. 175. Champaign. Open country. Discovers. Reveals. See Introduction, p. 39, 3, (a). 172 NOTES. II. v. 177. Politic. Dealing- with state affairs. Baffle. Treat contemptuously. II. v. 178. Gross. Vulgar. II. v. 179. Point-devise. Precisely. If followed by a comma, it would mean "superfine." II. v. 180. Jade. Befool, trick. II. v. 184. Manifests. Offers. II. v. 188. Strange. Odd, or distant (referring- to line 162, above). Stout. Surly (referring to line 163, above). II. v. 195-96. Dear my sweet. Cf . I. v. 71-72, note. II. v. 201. Sophy. The Shah of Persia. An Englishman, Sir Thomas Shirley, had printed in 1600 an account of his adventures at the Persian court. II. v. 211. Tray-trip. A game played with dice. II. v. 219. Aqua-vitae. Strong liquor. II. v. 223-24. Abhors . . . detests. Cf. lines 182-83, above. Malvolio is so intoxicated with his prospects that he can make himself believe anything. II. v. 230. Tartar. Tartarus, hell. ACT III. This act brings to a climax the main plot and also the two entanglements of the underplot, viz., the trick played on Malvolio, and that on Sir Andrew and Viola. III. i. The love of Olivia for Viola, which is hinted at in I. v. and II. ii., is here fully declared, and its rejection brings about a dead-lock. III. i. 2. Tabor. A sort of small drum. III. i. 4. Churchman. Clergyman. III. i. 13. Cheveril. Kid. III. i. 23-24. /Since bonds, etc. Since a man's bond is needed to strengthen his word. Feste puns on word in the sense of "promise." III. i. 39. Pilchards. Fish very like herrings. III. i. 45. But. If ... not. III. i. 48. Pass upon. Impose, play tricks on. Cf. III. ii. 79 and V. i. 362. It is often interpreted as a figurative use of a fencing phrase meaning "to thrust." Ill- i. 50. Commodity. Supply. NOTES. 173 III. i. 55. Pair of these. Pieces of money like what Viola has just given him. III. i. 56. Use. Interest. III. i. 57. Pandarus, etc. In Chaucer's Troilus and Shak- spere's Troilus and Cressida, Pandarus is the uncle of Cres sida, who serves as a go-between. III. i. 61. Cressida was a beggar. The reference is to Rob- ert Henryson's Testament of Cresseid, in which the heroine is smitten with leprosy and becomes a beggar. Shakspere again alludes to it in Henry V., II. i 80, "The lazar kite of Cressid's kind." Henry son was Scottish poet of the later 15th century. III. i. 64-65. Welkin . . . "element." dement was used in the sense of "sky" as well as in the sense still familiar in such phrases as "out of my element." Feste's wit consists in substituting welkin, a synonym for element in the wrong sense. III. i. 70. Haggard. An untrained hawk. Check. Cf. II. v. 122, note. Johnson and others have changed the and in this line to "not." But it is possible to retain the Folio reading understanding it to mean that while the fool must use dis- crimination in choosing time and objects for his wit, he must avoid appearing too sensible, by straying aside (i.e., "checking") after any object that may offer. III. i. 74. Folly-fallen. Fallen into folly. Taint their wit. Spoil their reputation for wisdom. III. i. 77. Dieu vous garde. God keep you. III. i. 78. Et vous, etc. And you also : your servant. III. i. 80. Encounter. The delight in playing with words seems to have been shared by almost all classes in Shak- spere's time. III. i. 81. Trade. Business. III. i. 84. List. Properly, "border," and so "limit," "goal." There is probably also a pun on bound. III. i. 85. Taste. Try. III. i. 91. Prevented. Anticipated, the original sense. III. i. 97. Pregnant. .Ready. Cf. II. ii. 30. Note the changes in the style of Viola's speeches. With Sir Toby and Feste, she i? a "corrupter of words" ; wLjn Olivia joins them she speaks the stilted language of the courtier ; alonr 174 NOTES. with the Duke or Olivia, she speaks in highly poetical blank verse. III. i. 119. Music from the spheres. References to the doctrine that the spheres in which the stars were supposed to be set joined to make an exquisite harmony as they revolved, are very common in older writers. Cf. Merchant of Venice, V. i. 60-62, There's not the smallest orb which thou behold 'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the oung-eyed cherubins. III. i. 123. Abuse. Deceive, impose upon. III. i. 126. To force. For forcing. III. i. 128-29. Stake ... a baited . . . unmuzzled. The figure is from the sport of baiting with dogs a bear tied to a stake. III. i. 130. Receiving. Capacity, intelligence. III. i. 131. Cypress. "A light transparent material resembling cobweb lawn or crape," probably named from the island of Cyprus, from which such stuffs were brought. [N. E. D.] It was used also of a kerchief made of this material. Gollancz thinks bosom here means "the bosom of the dress," and interprets the passage thus : "You can see my heart ; a thin gauze as it were hides it, not a stomacher." But a satisfactory sense is given if we take bosom in its ordinary meaning. III. i. 134. Grize. Step. Vulgar 'proof. Common experi- ence. Cf. Julius Caesar, II. i. 21-22, 'Tis a common proof That lowliness is young ambition's ladder. III. i. 144. Like. See Introduction, p. 41, 4, (b). Proper, Fine, handsome. III. i. 150. I.e., in love with a woman. III. i. 162. Maugre. In spite of. III. i. 165. For that. Because. III. i. 166-67. For metre, see Introduction, p. 85, 1. III. ii. 13. 'Slight. Cf. II. v. 37, note. III. ii. 20. Dormouse. Sleepy, like the dormouse, that sleeps all winter. NOTES. 175 III. ii. 28. Into the north. Out of the sunshine and warmth. III. ii. 35. Brownist. The sect of Brownists was begun in 1582 by Robert Brown. They dissented from the dis- cipline and form of government of the English church, and were forerunners of the Independents. Politician. Intriguer. III. ii. 36. Me. See Introduction, p. 39, 2, (c). III. ii. 46. Curst. Ill-tempered. III. ii. 49. Thou'st. In conversation "thou" was used only between intimate friends or, as here, to one treated as an inferior. Hence, in a challenge, it was insulting. III. ii. 53. Bed of Ware. "An enormous bed, capable of holding twelve persons, now to be seen at the Rye-House. It was ten feet nine inches square and seven feet and a half high, and till about [1864] was in the Saracen's Head Inn at Ware." [Clar.] For a picture of it, see Chambers's Book of Days, i. 229, or Knight's Shakespeare, at this passage. III. ii. 58. Cubiculo. A "corrupted word" for "lodging." III. ii. 72. Youngest wren of nine. The Folios read "mine." Nearly all modern editors read "nine,'' as the wren usually lays nine eggs, more or less, and the last hatched may be supposed to be the smallest. As Maria's part would be icted by a boy, references to her small stature would toe likely to be apt. Cf . I. v. 229, note. III. ii. 74. Spleen. The physiologists of Shakspere's time regarded the spleen as the cause of laughter. III. ii. 79. Passages of grossness. Gross tricks or imposi- tions. Cf. "pass upon" in III. i. 48, and V. i. 362. III. ii. 82. Pedant. Schoolmaster. III. ii. 87-88. The new map, etc. This is now generally taken to refer to a map issued to accompany the 1599 edition of Hakluyt's Voyages, which had a fuller representation of the East Indies than any preceding. See Introduction, p. 30. III. iii. In showing us Sebastian arrived in Orsino's town, this scene introduces the factor which is to untie the knot with which we were left at the end of III. i. III. iii. 6. "And the cause was not altogether love to see you, though so much was that love as might have," etc. 176 NOTES. III. iii. 8. Jealousy. Fear. III. iii. 9. Being. For participles depending 1 on a pro- noun to be inferred from the context, cf . Abbott, 378, 379. III. iii. 15. The words, "thanks. Too" are not found in the first Folio, while the later Folios omit verses 15 and 16 altogether. III. iii. 17. Worth. Wealth, what I am worth. III. iii. 19. Reliques. Explained by verses 23, 24, below. III. iii. 26. Count his galleys. See Introduction, p. 39, 2, (b). III. iii. 28. It would scarce be answered. It would be hard for me to make a defence that would satisfy him. III. iii. 36. Lapsed. Some word meaning 1 "caught" seems to be required by the context, but lapsed is not found else- where in this sense. It is probably a corruption. III. iii. 46. For idle markets. Full enough to spend on unnecessary purchases. III. iv. In this long scene the underplot culminates in the farce of Malvolio's downfall and the encounter of Sir Andrew and Viola. This last situation is solved by the appearance of Antonio, while fresh complications are introduced in his mistaking Viola for Sebastian, and in his arrest. III. iv. 1. He says he'll come. Since from line 62 it appears that the messenger had not yet returned, most editors have taken this phrase hypothetically = "Suppose he says," etc. Might one not imagine Olivia watching- the success of the messenger from a distance, and speaking these words as *he sees Viola consent to come back? III. iv. 2. Of. On. See Introduction, p v 41, 5, (a). III. iv. 5. Sad. Serious, grave. Cf . As You Like It, III. ii. 227, "Speak sad brow and true maid." Civil. Quiet, restrained. III. iv. 12. Were best. Cf. I. v. 35, II. ii. 28. III. iv. 25-26. Please one, etc. The refrain of an old ballad still extant. III. iv. 38-39. Nightingales answer daws, and so I may condescend to answer a servant. III. iv. 61. Midsummer madness. The midsummer moon was supposed to be particularly potent in causing madness. NOTES. 177 III. iv. 64. Back. See Introduction, p. 40, 3, (d). III. iv. 70. Miscarry. Come to harm. III. iv. 71. Come near. Understand. III. iv. 83. Limed. As with bird-lime. III. iv. 90. Incredulous. Causing incredulity. III. iv. 128. BawcocH. A familiar term meaning "fine fellow," from Fr. beau cog, fine cock. III. iv. 131. "Biddy, come with me." Probably a snatch of a song. III. iv. 132. Cherry-pit. A game of pitching cherry-stones into a hole. III. iv. 133. Collier. In reference to the saying, " 'Like will to like,' quoth the devil to the collier." III. iv. 145. Genius. Spirit. III. iv. 147-48. Take air and taint. Be exposed and so spoiled. III. iv. 151. Dark room. The usual treatment of lunatics until comparatively recent times. III. iv. 159. May morning. A sportive season. III. iv. 167. Nor . . . not. See Introduction, p. 41, 4, (a). Admire. Wonder. III. iv. 184. Windy. Apparently not the "windward,' 1 but the side towards which the wind blows, so that the law can not scent you. Furness suggests a pun on blow, line 171, above. III. iv. 195. Commerce. Conversation, intercourse. III. iv. 197. Scout me. See Introduction, p. 39, 2, (c). III. iv. 198. Bum-baily. A petty officer who followed close behind to make arrests. III. iv. 203. Approbation. Testimony. III. iv. 213. Clodpole. More properly, "clod-poll" = clod- pate. III. iv. 220. Cockatrices. "A serpent, identified with the Basilisk, fabulously said to kill by its mere glance, and to be hatched from a cock's egg." [N. E. D.] III. iv 222. Presently. Immediately. After him. See Introduction, p. 40, 3, (d). III. iv. 227. On 't. This is the Folio reading. The change to "out," usually adopted, seems unnecessary. III. iv. 233. Jewel. Any precious ornament, not necessa- rily a stone. 178 NOTES. III. iv. 248. Despite. Malice. III. iv. 249-50. Dismount thy tuck. Draw thy sword. III. iv. 250. Tare. Ready. III. iv. 262. Unhatched. This seems to mean "unhacked," and some editors have so emended the line. III. iv. 262-63. Dubbed ... on carpet consideration. Knighted at home for money, not on the field for valor. III. iv. 268. Hob, nob. Have or have not. III. iv. 270. Conduct. Escort. III. iv. 273. Quirk. Humour. III. iv. 303. Sir priest. "Sir" was applied to priests who had taken the bachelor's degree at the university. Cf . Sir Topas in IV. ii. 2 ff., and Sir Oliver Martext in As You Like It. III. iv. 306. Modern acting* editions begin a new icene here. III. iv. 307. Firago. Probably an intentional corruption of "virago." The fact that it is properly used of a woman need not trouble us in view of Sir Toby's habitual liberties with language. III. iv. 309. Stuck. A corruption of "stoccata," a thrust. III. iv. 310. Answer. The return hit. III. iv. 313. . Sophy. Cf. II. v. 201, note. III. iv. 326. Take up. Make up. Cf. As You Like It, V. iv. 104, "I knew, when seven justices could not take up a quarrel." III. iv. 329. Is as horribly conceited. Has as horrible a conception. III. iv. 346. Duello. The duelling code. III. iv. 357. Undertaker. One who undertakes business for another. Schmidt gives it the additional idea of "meddler." III. iv. 369. Favour. Face. Cf. II. iv. 24. III. iv. 385. Having. Property, possessions, III. iv. 395. Vainness. Boastfulness. The Folios have no comma after babbling, and many editors omit that after lying also, making these two words adjectives. III. iv. 402. His image. What he appeared to be. III. iv. 403. Venerable. Admirable, worshipful, without the sense of age. NOTES. 179 III. iv. 406. Feature. Appearance in general. III. iv. 408. Unkind. Wanting- in natural affection. III. iv. 410. Trunks o'erflourished. Chests with ornamental carving's. III. iv. 415. So do not 1. This might mean (1) I do not believe as he does (that he knows me), or (2) I do not believe my own conjecture (that he takes me for Sebastian) as firmly as he does his. III. iv. 419. A couplet or two, etc. This is said with reference to the rhymed maxims in Antonio's speech. Furness points out that Viola's speech is an aside. III. iv. 422. Yet living in my glass. I am like a mirror reflecting his living face, I am so like him. III. iv.423. Favour. Cf. line 369, above. III. iv. 425. Prove. Prove true. III. iv. 432-33. Religious in it. Practising it religiously. [Var.] III. iv. 434. 'Slid. A corruption of "God's (eye) lid." ACT IV. In the fourth act the plot reaches its highest point of complexity. Sebastian is now taken for Viola, as in the third act Viola had been taken for Sebastian, and this com- plicates not only the humorous situation with Sir Andrew, but also the serious one with Olivia. At the same time it introduces an element which makes possible the ultimate solution of the difficulty caused by Olivia's passion for Cesario. IV. i. 15. Cockney. An effeminate or affected person. If the clown's speech is relevant at all, it probably means, "If fine phrases like this are applied to fools' talk, the world will soon be overspread with affectation." IV. i. 16. Ungird thy strangeness. Give up being so dis- tant. Feste is using the stilted language in ridicule. IV. i. 19. Greek. A merry fellow. IV. i. 24-25. After fourteen years 1 purchase. The market price of land at the beginning of the seventeenth century was the sum of twelve years' rental. The good report bought from a fool would have to be paid for longer than its worth deserved. 180 NOTES. IV. i. 43. Fleshed. Rendered eager for slaughter by the taste of blood. IV. i. 47. Malapert. Saucy. IV. i. 51. Ungracious. Graceless. IV. i. 55. Rudesby. Ruffian. IV. i. 57. Extent. Attack. IV. i. 60. Botched up. Patched up, clumsily contrived. IV. i. 63. Heart. Cf. I. i. 17, note. IV. i. 66. Lethe. That one of the four rivers of Hade* which brought forgetfulness. IV. ii. For the source from which Shakspere derived the main idea of this scene, see Introduction, p. 34. IV. ii. 2. Sir Topas. Cf . III. iv. 303, note. IV. ii. 10. Said. Called. IV. ii. 10-11. Good housekeeper. A hospitable person. IV. ii. 12. Competitors. Accomplices. IV. ii. 15-16. Hermit of Prague. Jerome. IV. ii. 17. Gorbuduc. A legendary British king. Cf. the early Elizabethan play so-called. IV. ii. 30. Hyperbolical. The clown's corruption of "dia- bolical." IV. ii. 44. Clerestories. The upper part of the wall of a church, containing a row of windows. IV. ii. 51-52. Egyptians in their fog. Cf. Exodus, X. 21. IV. ii. 57. Constant question. Consistent or reasonable discussion. IV. ii. 58. Opinion of Pythagoras. The doctrine of the transmigration of souls. IV. ii. 68. Woodcock. Cf. II. v. 90. IV. ii. 72. For all waters. Up to anything. IV. ii. 83 ff. "Hey, Robin," etc. These are fragments of an old song to be found in Percy's Rcliques of Ancient English Poetry. IV. ii. 97-98. Five wits. The intellectual powers, which were numbered five, like the senses. IV. ii. 99. Notoriously. Exceedingly. IV. ii. 104. Propertied. The exact meaning is doubtful. he usual interpretations are these: (1) Treated me as piece of property, not as a person with a will of his own; NOTES. 181 (2) Treated me as a stage * 'property,-" which is thrown into a dark lumber-room when not in use. IV. ii. 107. Advise you. Take care. Part of what the clown says in the rest of this scene is spoken in the voice of Sir Topas. IV. ii. 118. Shent. Scolded. IV. ii. 137 ff. U I am gone, sir." This is probably another old song 1 , though not elsewhere extant. IV. ii. 141. Vice. "The established buffoon in the old moralities and other imperfect dramas. He had the name sometimes of one vice, sometimes of another, but most commonly of Iniquity, or vice itself. He was grotesquely dressed in a cap with ass's ears, a long coat, and a dagger of lath; and one of his chief employments was to make sport with the devil, leaping on his back and belaboring him with his dagger of lath, till he made him roar. The devil, however, always carried him off in the end. . . . His successors on the stage were the fools and clowns." Nares's Glossary. IV. iii. 6. Credit. Belief. IV. iii. 12. Instance. Example. Discourse. Reason. IV. iii. 21. Deceivable. Deceptive. IV. iii. 24. Chantry. Private chapel. IV. iii. 29. Whiles. Until. Come to note. Become known. ACT V. V. i. 1. His. Malvolio's. Cf. IV. ii. 123 ff. V. i. 23. Conclusions to be as kisses. Conclusions following from premises brought together, as kisses follow from two pairs of lips brought together. V. i. 24. Tour. For this vague colloquial use of your, cf. Hamlet, IV. iii. 22-23, u Your worm is your only emperor for diet." V. i. 35. Your grace. There is here probably a play on grace as a theological term and as the title of a duke. V. i. 36. It. I.e., ill counsel. V. i. 41. Triplex. Triple time in music. V. i. 58. Bawbling. Insignificant. V. i. 59. Unprizable. Of value not to be estimated, as 182 NOTES. being either too great or too small. The context seems to require the latter meaning. V. i. 60. Scathful. Destructive. V. i. 61. Bottom. Vessel. V. i. 65. Fraught. Freight. Candy. Candia or Crete. V. i. 68. Desperate of shame and state. Reckless of disgrace and position. V. i. 69. Brabble. Brawl. V. i. 72. Distraction. Madness. V. i. 75. Dear. Costly, grievous. The sense of "coming home to one intimately" is frequent in the Shaksperean use of this word. V. i. 87. Pure. See Introduction, p. 41, 4, (b). V. i. 95. Recommended. Intrusted. V. i. 98. Three months. This is, of course, inconsistent with the estimate of the time taken by the action founded on the hint in I. iv. 3. But Shakspere's reckoning in these matters is not mathematical, and the success of his method is shown by the fact that the statement in the present passage does not surprise us if we follow the play sympathetically. V. i. 113. Fat and fulsome. Nauseating. V. i. 118. Have. See Introduction, p. 40, 3, (b). Many editors emend to "hath." V. i. 122. Egyptian thief. Thyamis of Memphis, the cap- tain of a band of robbers, carried off Chariclea and fell in love with her. When, later, he was driven to extremity by a stronger band, he attempted to slay her. The story is told in the Ethiopica of Heliodorus, a translation of which was current in Shakspere's time. V. i. 129. Minion. Darling. How had the Duke come to know of Olivia's love for Viola? V. i. 130. Tender. Regard. V. i. 137. To do you rest. To give you ease. [Clar.J V. i. 143. Detested. This word probably bears here the not uncommon early sense of "repudiated." V. i. 151. Strangle thy propriety. Deny thy identity. V. i. 160. Contract. This passage, like the speech of Olivia in IV. iii. 22 ff, refers to the ceremony of betrothal, not of marriage. V. i. 164. Ceremony. See Introduction, p. 36, 2. Some NOTES. 183 critics suppose that Shakspere frequently regarded the second "e" of this word as silent. Compact. See Introduc- tion, p. 37, 6. V. i. 165. Function. Official capacity. V. i. 169. Case. Skin. Cf. the pun in Winter's Tale, IV. iv. 843-44, ''Though my case be a pitiful one, I hope I shall not be flayed out of it." V. i. 175. Little. A little, some. V. i. 186. Incardinate. Sir Andrew's attempt at "incar- nate." V. i. 188. 'Od'slifelings. A corruption and diminution of the oath "God's life." V. i. 193. Bespahe. Addressed. Cf. the modern sense, V. i. 199. Othergates. In another fashion. V. i. 206. Set. Fixed. V. i. 207-8. A passy measures pavin. The first Folio reads "panin." Most editors emend to "pavin, ' and take Toby's drunken utterance to refer to a kind of dignified dance, implying that the surgeon is "a grave, solemn coxcomb" [Malone], or that he is slow in coming [Clar.J R. G. White thinks it a misprint for "panim," and reads "a passing measure (that is, egregious) paynim." But Sir Toby was drunk. V. i. 213. An ass-head, etc. These reproaches seem to be aimed at Sir Andrew. V. i. 219. Strange regard. Distant look. For metre, see Introduction, p. 37, 4. V. i. 224. Natural perspective. For metre, see Introduction, p. 36, 2. Perspective was a general term used for any optical device. Here it may mean no more than "mirror." V. i. 234-35. That deity . . . of here and everywhere. The divine property of omnipresence. V. i. 241. Suited. Dressed. V. i. 244. Dimension. Bodily shape. Cf . I. v. 292. Grossly. Materially. V. i. 245. Participate. Possess like other men. V. i. 253. Record. For accent, see Introduction, p. 37, 6. V. i. 256. Lets. Hinders. V. i. 259. Do. See Introduction, p. 40, 3, (b). Jump. Agree. NOTES. V. i. 262. Weeds. Garments. For metre, see Introduc- tion, p. 37, 5. V. i. 266. Mistook. See Introduction, p. 40, 3, (c). V. i. 267. Nature to her bias drew. In bowling, the bowls 'draw to their bias" when they curve in on the side on which they are weighted or "biassed." In falling in love with Sebastian's likeness in Viola, Olivia was following her natural affinity for Sebastian. V. i. 272. Gloss. The "perspective" of line 224, above. V. i. 278. That orbed continent, etc. Shakspere always uses continent in the literal sense of "that which contains." Here, then, it seems to mean the firmament which contains the orbs, and among them the fire (the sun) that severs day and night. Viola promises to keep her oaths as truly as the firma- ment keeps the sun in its path. V. i. 282. Upon. On account of. V. i. 285. Enlarge. Set at liberty. V. i. 288. Extracting. Drawing all other thoughts out of my mind. V. i. 295. Epistles are no gospels. The reference is, of course, to the portions of Scripture appointed to be read in church. Skills. Matters. V. i. 301. How now. The clown seems to have begun to read in some extravagant manner. V. i. 304. Vox. Voice ; presumably the appropriate voice for such an epistle. V. i. 307. Perpend. Weigh, consider. Shakspere uses it always as humorous bombast. V. i. 326. These things, etc. A nominative absolute. If, after you have thought further on these things, it please you to think me as desirable for a sister as for a wife. V. i. 328. On't. The grammar of this is loose, but the sense of "the alliance on't" is clearly "the alliance that makes us brother and sister," i.e., the double marriage. V. i. 329. Proper. Own. V. i. 331. Quits. Sets you free. V. i. 342. From it. Differently. V. i. 345. Modesty of honour. The sense of propriety that belongs to honorable persons. V. i. 349. Lighter. Less important. NOTES 185 V. 1. 353. Geek. Dupe. V. i. 360. Such . . . which. See Introduction, p. 39,2, (d). V. i. 362. Practice. Plot. Shrewdly. Wickedly. Passed. Cf. III. i. 48, note. V. i. 366. Brawl to come. Future brawl ; not an infinitive after "let." V. i. 371-72. Upon some stubborn . . . him. Inconsequence of some stubborn and discourteous qualities which we charged against him. V. i. 373. Importance. Importunity. V. i. 393. Convents. Summons. V. i. 395. For metre, see Introduction, p. 36, 3. V. i. 400 ff. This song is regarded by most editors as nof by Shakspere, and its introduction here may be due merely to the actor. But in the mouth of Feste it does not see/ out of place or without charm. WORD INDEX. Abhors . . . detests, II. v. 223-24. abuse, III. i. 123. admire, III. iv. 167. advanced, II. v. 36. advise you, IV. ii. 107. affect, II. v. 27. affectioned, II. iii. 168. after him, III. iv. 222. air and taint, III. iv. 147-48. allow, I. ii. 59. allowed, I. v. 107. alter services, II. v. 173. answer, III. iv. 310. answered, III. iii. 28. antique, II. iv. 3. appetite, I. i. 3. approbation, III. iv. 203. aqua-vitae, II. v. 219. are, II. v. 153. Arion, I. ii. 15 ass, II. iii. 194. ass-head, V. i. 213. Babbling, III. iv. 395. back, III. iv. 64. back-trick, I. iii. 133. baffle, II. v. 177. baited, III. i. 129. barf ul, I. iv. 42. barren, I. iii. 87. bawbling, V. i. 58. bawcock, III. iv. 128. beauty's a flower, I. v. 58-59. bed of Ware, III. ii. 53. behaviour, II. v. 19. being, III. iii. 9. bent, II. iv. 37. bespake, V. i. 193. Biddy, come with me, III. Iv. 131. bird-bolts, I. v 105. blazon, I. v. 324. blood, II. v. 159. blows, II. v. 47. board, I. iii. 62. bones, II. iv. 45. bosom, III. i. 131. botched up, IV. i. 60. botcher, I. v. 53. bottom, V. i. 61. bound, III. i. 83-84. brabble, V. i. 69. brain, I. i. 37. branched, II. v. 52. brawl to come, V. i. 366. breach of the sea, II. i. 25. breast, II. iii. 21 brock, II. v. 112. Brownist, III. ii. 35. bum-baily, III. iv. 198. burn some sack, II. iii. 215. but, I. iv. 14; I. v.165; I.v. 307; III. i. 45. buttery-bar, I. iii. 76. by your favour, II. iv. 25. Canary,' I. iii. 88. Candy, V. i. 65. cantons, I. v. 301. cakes and ale, II iii. 132. case, V. i. 169. Castiliano vulgo, I. iii. 47. Catalan, II. iii. 84. catch, II. iii. 19. ceremony, V. i. 164. chambermaid, I. iii. 56. champaign, II. v. 175. chantry, IV. iii. 24. charges me in manners, II. 1. 16. checks, II. v. 122. cherry-pit. III. iv. 132. 186 WORD INDEX. 187 cheveril. III. 1. 13. churchman, III. i. 4. civil bounds, I. iv. 22. clerestories, IV. ii. 44. clodpole, III. iv. 213L close, II. v. 23. cloyment, II. iv. 100. cockatrices, III. iv.220. cockney, IV. i. 15. codling, I. v. 175. collier, III. iv. 133. coloured stock, I. iii. 147. come near, III. iv. 71. come to note, IV. iii. 29. comfortable, I. V. 250. commerce, III. iv. 195. commodity, III. i. 50. compact, V. i. 164. competitors, IV. ii. 12. comptible, I. v. 197. con, I. v. 195. conceited, III. iv. 329. conclusions . . . , V. i. 23 conduct, III. iv. 270. consonancy, II. v. 140-41. constant question, IV. ii. 57. cons state, II. iii. 169. constellation, I. iv. 36. contagious breath, II. iii. 59. contempt of question, II. v. 95-96. contract, V. i. 160. convents, V. i. 393. coranto, I. iii. 140. count, I. iii. 115. count his galleys, III. iii. 26. county, I. v. 333. couplet, III. iv. 419. cousin, I. iii. 5. coystrill, I. iii. 45. coziers',il.iii.l02. credit, IV. iii. 6. Gressida was a beggar. III. i. 61. crowner, I. v. 149. crush, II. v. 151. cry upon't, II. v. 134. cubiculo. III. I i. 58. cucullus, I . v. 64. curl by nature, I. iii. 108. curst, III. ii. 46. cypress, II. iv. 52; III. i. 131. Dam'd coloured stock, I. lit 147. dark room. III. iv. 151. day-bed, II. v. 53. dear, V. i. 75. dear my sweet, II. v. 195-96. deceivable, IV. iii. 21. demure . . . regard, II. v. 5Y. denay, II. iv. 125. delivered, I. ii. 42. Deluculo, etc., II. iii. 3. desperate, II. ii. 8; V. i. 68. despite, HI. iv. 248. detested, V. 1. 143. dexteriously, I. v. 69. Dieu vous garde, III. i. 77. dimension, I. v. 292; V. i. 244. discourse, IV. iii. 12. discovers, II. v. 175. dishonest, I. v. 47. dismount thy tuck, III. iv. 249-50. distemper, II. i. 5. distempered, I. v. 103. distraction, V.i. 72. divulged, I. v. 291. do, V. i. 259. dog at, II. iii. 66-67. dormouse, III. ii. 20. dry, I. iii. 80-84; I. v. 46. duello, III. iv. 346. dubbed ... , I I. iv. 262-63. Egyptian thief, V. i. 122. Egyptians in their fog, IV. K 51-52. element, I. i. 26. employment, II. v. 89. encounter, III. i. 80. enemy, II. ii. 30. enlarge, V. i. 285. entertainment, I. v. 242 epistles, V. i. 295. equinoctial, II. iii. 26. et vous, etc., III. i. 78. except before excepted, L ilL 7. 188 WORD INDEX. express, II. i. 16. expressure, II. iii. 180. extent, IV. i. 57. extracting, V. i. 288. extravagancy, II. i. 12. Fadge, II. ii. 35. fall, I. i. 4. fancy, I.i. 14; II. V. 29. fangs of malice, I. v. 205-206. fantastical, I. i. 15. Farewell, "etc. II. iii. 116 ff. fat and fulsome, V. i. 113. faults, II. v. 139. favour, II. iv. 24; III. iv. 369, 423. fear no colours, I. v. 6. feature, III. iv. 406. feelingly personated, II. iii. 181-82. fine frame, I. i. 33. flrago, III. iv. 307. five wits, IV. ii. 97-98 flame, I.v.295. flatterer, I. v. 341. flatter with, I. v. 335. fleshed, IV. i. 43. follows, II. v. 31. folly-fallen, III. i. 74. fond, II. 11. 86. fools' zanies, I. v. 101. for all waters, IV. ii. 72. forbid . . . not, II. ii. 20. forgive, I. v. 215. formal capacity, II. v. 126-27. for that, III. i. 165.- four elements, II. iii. 10-11. fourteen years' purchase, IV. i. 24-25. fraught, V. i. 65. free, II. iv. 45. from, I. v. 211. from it, V. i. 342. function, V. i. 165. fustian, II. v. 117. Galliard, I. iii. 129. gaskins, I. v.28. geek, V. L 353. genius, III. iv, 145, gentleman much desires, I. ^ 112-13. gentleness, II. i. 49. giant, I. v. 229. glass, V. i. 272. golden shaft, I. i. 35. good housekeeper, IV. ii. 10-1L good my, I. v. 71-72. Gorbuduc, IV. ii. 17. gospels, V. i. 295. gracious, I. v. 293. Greek, IV. i. 19. grize, III. i. 134. gross, II. v. 178. grossly, V.i. 244. gust, I. iii. 34. Haggard, III. i. 70. hart, I.i. 17. have, V. i. 118. he says he'll come, III. Iv. 1. having, III. iv. 385. heart, I. i. 37; IV. i. 63. heat, I. v. 146. here he comes, I. v. 128. hermit of Prague, IV. ii. 15-16. "Hey, Robin," IV. ii. 83. high fantastical, I. i. 15. his, V. i. 1. hob nob. III. iv. 268. horribly conceited, III. iv. 329. horse of that colour, II. iii. 190-91 how now, V. i. 301. hull, I. v. 228. humour, I. iv. 5. humour of state, II. v. 56. hyperbolical, IV. ii. 30. "I am gone, sir," IV. ii.137. idle markets, III. iii. 46. image, III. iv. 402. impeticos, II. iii. 29. importance, V. i. 373. impressure, II. v. 101. in contempt of question, H. ? 95-96. in grain, I. v. 266. in standing water, I. v. 176. WORD INDEX. 189 tneardinate, V. i. 186. incredulous, III. iv. 90. Indies, III. ii. 88. instance, IV. iii. 12. intimate, II. v. 91-92. into the north, III. ii. 28. it, V.i.36. item, I. v. 276. Jade, II. v. 180. jealousy, III. iii. 8. jets, II. v. 35. jewel, III. iv. 233. Jezebel, II. v. 45. jump, V.i.259. Kickshawses, I. iii. 124. kisses, V. i. 23. Labelled, I. v. 276. Lady of the Strachy II. v. 43-44. lapsed, III. iii. 36. leasing, I. v. 110. leman, II. iii. 28. lenten, I. v. 9. Lethe, IV. i.66. lets, V. i. 256. lighter, V. i. 349. like, III. i. 144. limed, III. iv. 83. list, III. i. 84. little, V. i. 175. liver, I.i.37. lived, I.ii.14. lost, II. ii.22. Lucrece, II. v. 102. lying, III. iv. 395. M, O, A, I, II. v. 116. madonna, I. v. 48. maidenhead, I. v. 244. malapert, IV. i. 47. manifests, II. v. 184. maugre, III. i. 162. May morning, III. iv. 159. me, I. ii. 53; III. ii. 36. mellow, I. ii. 43. metal of India, II. v. 16. midsummer madness, III. iv. 61. minion, V. i. 129. miscarry, III. iv. 70. misprision, I. v. 63. mistook, V. i. 266. Mistress Mall's picture, I. iii. 137-38. modest, I. iii. 9; I. v. 201. modesty of honour, V. i. 345. motion, II. iv. 99. motions, II. iv. 18. mouse of virtue, I. v. 72. murder me, II. i. 39. music from the spheres, III. L 119. mute, I. ii. 62. my , II. v. 65. Natural, I. iii. 31. natural perspective, V. i. 224. nature to her bias, V. i. 267. nayword, II. iii. 153. new map, III. ii. 87. nightingales answer daws, IIL iv. 38-39. noblest (heart), I. i. 18. not all love, III. iii. 6. nor no, I. v. 108. nor . . . not, II. i. 1; III. iv. 167. notoriously, IV. ii. 99. numbers altered, II. v. 110. nuncio, I. iv. 29. O mistress mine, II. iii. 43 ft. od's lifelings, V. i. 188. of, III. iv. 2. old age, II. iv. 48. olive, I. v. 237. on a forgotten matter, II. iii. 183. on't, III. iv. 227; V. i. 328. opinion of Pythagoras, IV. ii. 5& opposite, II. v. 162. orbed continent, V. i. 278. out, II. iii. 210. othergates, V. i. 199. O, the twelfth, II. iii. 95. 190 WORD INDEX. overture, I. v. 236. owe, I. v. 342. Pair of these, III. 1. 55. Pandarus, III. i. 57. parish top, I. iii. 47. participate, V. i. 245. pass upon, III. i. 48. passages of grossness, III. ii. 79. passed, V. i. 362. passy measures pavin, V. i. 207, 208. pedant, III. ii. 82. peevish, I. v. 331. Peg-a-Ramsey, II. iii. 85. peevishly, II. ii. 15. Penthesilea, II. iii. 202. perchance, I. ii. 5. perpend, V.i. 307. persuaded of himself, II. iii. 170-71. pia mater, I. v. 129. picture of "we three," II. iii. 18. Pigrogromitus, II. iii. 25 pilchards, III. i. 39. pitch, I. i.12. plague, I. iii. 1. please one, III. iv. 25-26. point-devise, II. v. 179. points, I. v. 26. politic, II. v. 177. politician, III. ii. 35. propertied, IV. ii. 104. possess us, II. iii. 157. practice, V. i. 362. praise, I. v. 280. pregnant, II. ii. 30; III. i.97. presently, III. iv. 222. prevented, III. i. 91. profound heart, I. v. 205. proper, III. i. 143; V. i. 329. proper-false, II. ii. 31. prove, III. iv. 425. pure, V.i. 87. put down, I. iii. 89. Pythagoras, IV. ii. 58. Qneubus, II. iii. 26. quick, L i. 9. Quinapalus, I. v. 40. quirk, III. iv. 273. quits, V. i. 331. Recollected terms, II. iv. & recommended, V. i. 95. record, V. i. 253. recover, II. iii. 209. regard, II. v. 71. receiving, III. i. 130. religious in it, III. iv. 432-35*. reliques, III. iii. 19. retention, II. iv. 97. reverberate, I. v. 303. round, II. iii. 108. rub your chain, II. iii. 135-3a rubious, I. iv. 33. rudesby, IV. i. 55. Sad, III. iv. 5. said, IV. ii. 10 scathful, V. i. 60. scout me, III. iv. 197. self, I. i. 39. semblative, I. Iv. 35. set, V.i. 206. seven years' heat, I. L 26 shall I to, II. iv. 123. she, I. v. 270. she were better, II. ii. 28 sheep-biter, II. v. 6. shent, IV. ii. 118. sheriff's post, I.v. 164., shrewdly, V. i. 362. shrewishly, I. v. 178. silly-sooth, II. iv. 46. since bonds, III.!. 23 24 sinister usage, I. v 197. sir priest, III. iv. 303. Sir Topas, IV. ii. 2. skills, V.i. 295. 'slid, III. iv. 434. 'slight, II. v. 37; III. ii. Id. slough, II. v. 161. smiling, II. iv. 116. sneck-up, II. iii. 107. so, II. ii. 13. so do not I, III. iv 415, WORD INDEX. 191 so hardy to come, II. ii. 10-11. so please, I. i. 24. song, II. iv. 51 ff. Sophy, II. v. 201; III. iv. 313. sound, I.i.5; I. iv.34. Sowter, II. v. 134. speaks . . . madman, I. v. 119- 120. spinster, II. iv. 44. spleen, III. ii. 74. spoke, I. iv. 21 ; I. v. 126. squash, I. v. 174. stake, III. i. 128. state, I. v. 309; II. v.49. staiiiel, II. v. 122. stone-bow, II. v. 50. stoup, II. iii. 15. stout, II. v. 188. strange, II. v. 188. strange regard, V. i. 219. strangle thy propriety, V. i. 151. strife, I.iv. 42. stuck, III. iv. 309. substractors, I. iii. 38. such estimable wonder, II. i. 31. such . . . which, V. i. 360. suited, V. i. 241. sure, II. ii. 22. swabber, I. v. 228. swarths, II. iii. 170. sways she level, II. iv. 31. sweet and twenty, II. iii. 55. Tabor, III. i. 2. taffeta, II. iv. 75. taint their wit, III. i. 74. take up, III. iv. 326. tall, I. iii. 21. tang arguments of state, II. v. 163-64. Tartar, II. v. 230. taste, III. i. 85. 'Taurus, I. iii. 149. taxation, I. v. 236. tell me your mind, I. v. 230. tender, V. i. 130. testril, II. iii. 37. thanks. Too, III. iii. 15. that, II. iv. 100. that deity . . . , V. i. 234-35. that orbed continent, V. i. 278. the like, I. ii. 21. the old age, II. iv. 48. "There dwelt . . . ," II. iii. there is ... sides, II. iv. 94. these set kind, I. v. 100. these things, V. i. 326. this present, I. v. 263-64. this simulation, II. v. 150. those poor number, I. ii. 10. thought, II. iv. 113. thought is free, I. iii. 75. thou'st, HI.ii.49. "Three merry men be we." II iii. 85-86. three months, V. i. 98. three souls, II. iii. 64. thriftless, II. ii. 41. tilly vally, II. iii. 87-88. time of moon, I. v. 224. to do you rest, V. i. 137. to force, III. i. 126. tongues, I. iii. 102-108. took, I. v. 29*. trade, III. i. 81. travel of regard, II. v. 57. tray-trip, II. v. 211. trick of singularity, II. v. 165. triplex, V. i. 41. trunks o'er flourished, III. iv. 410. turned into a hart, I. i. 21. turning away, I. v. 22. Uncivil rule, II. iii. 139-40. undertaker, III. iv. 357. ungird thy strangeness, IV. i. 16. ungracious, IV. i. 51. unhatched, III. iv. 262. unkind, III. iv. 408. unmuzzled, III. i. 129. upon, V. i. 282. upon some stubborn, V. i. 371-72 unprizable, V. i. 59. use, III. i. 56. utters, II. iii. 169 192 WORD INDEX. Vainness, III. iv. 395. validity, I. i. 12. Vaplans, II. iii. 25. venerable, III. iv. 403. vice, IV. ii. 141. viol-de-gamboys, I. iii. 28. voices, I. v. 291. Vox, V. i. 304. vulgar proof, III. i. 134. Ways, II. v. 1. we three, II. iii. 18. wears she to, II. iv. 30. weeds, V. i. 262. welkin, II. iii. 62. welkin . . . element, III. i. 64-65. well done* I. v, 264. were best, III. iv. 12. whiles, IV. iii. 29. will on, I. v. 212. willow, I. v. 299. windy, III. iv. 184. with, I. v. 95. witty, I. v. 40. woodcock, II. v. 90; IV. ii. 68. worth, III, iii. 17. Yard, III. iv. 250. yet living, III. iv.422. you, I. v. 281. you were best, I. v. 35. youngest wren of nine, III. ii. your, V. i. 24. your grace, V, L 35. APPENDIX APPENDIX (Adapted, and enlarged, from the Manual for tlie Study of English Classics, by George L. Marsh) HELPS TO STUDY THE DRAMA In what did the drama originate? Describe briefly the miracle plays, or ' ' mysteries, " telling where they were performed, by whom, and what, in general, was their subject matter (pp. 12, 13). What elements were contained in the miracle plays that had an influence toward the development of comedy ? What were moralities? Interludes? What foreign influences contributed to the development of the Elizabethan drama (pp. 15, 16) ? Name several of Shakspere 's predecessors in the drama. Who was the greatest of them?' Describe briefly the theater of Shakspere 's day (pp. 22, 23). The characteristics of an Elizabethan audience. Did Shakspere write his plays for posterity or to please an audience of his own time? SHAKSPERE 's CAREER When and where was Shakspere born? What can you say as to his education (p. 18) ? His occupations before he went to London? What do we know about his early years in London? 195 196 APPENDIX What were his first dramatic efforts (p. 20) ? What other literary work, besides the writing of plays, did he do? Learn the general characteristics of Shakspere's work during each of the four periods into which it is divided, and the names of representative plays of each period (pp. 24-27). Perry Pictures 73-75 have to do with Shakspere and his home. TWELFTH NIGHT DATE, SOURCES, FORM When was this play probably written (pp. 29-31) ? To what period of Shakspere's life does it belong? W^hen and where was it first printed? Where did Shakspere apparently get his main plot (p. 32) ? Point out specific resemblances between the plot of Twelfth Night and that of Apolonius and Silla as out- lined on pages 32 and 33. What characters are wholly Shakspere 's (p. 33)? What do they give to the play which is not in Kiche's story? What do you think of your editor's suggestion (p. 34) as to a source for the ' * charge of madness in Malvolio, ' ' etc.? Point out in detail whatever resemblances you find in the situations. Find good examples for yourself of all the peculiarities of language and meter summarized on pages 35 to 41. DEVELOPMENT OF THE PLOT Does I, i, give an erroneous idea as to who are to be the leading personages of the play? Is the failure to in- troduce or mention Viola a defect? I, ii: What is the "motive for Viola 's disguise 7 ' (note, bottom p. 157) ? APPENDIX 197 Why does Viola mention that her father knew Orsino and that he is (or was) a bachelor? Is she already in love with him? What is the dramatic purpose of her mention of Se- bastian? I, iv: Is the favor Viola has obtained with the Duke accounted for? Her attitude towards him which is so suddenly shown at the end of this scene? Is her attitude shown to one who sees the play acted before it is expressed in words? How and when? Is anything accomplished by the elaborate fooling in the first part of I, v? Is there too long a time before Viola enters and the main story is taken up again? What love affair is foreshadowed in I, v, besides the main ones already started (see 1. 30) ? When does Olivia begin to be especially interested in Cesario? When and how do we learn most about this (II, ii) ? What situation in As You Like It does it resemble? II, i: Why does Sebastian mention his resemblance to Viola? Did she mention it? Do you see any reason why? II, ii: Why does Viola accept the ring from Olivia? Had she realized before this the turn affairs were taking? II, iii: What is the dramatic purpose of having Mal- volio interrupt the revellers; that is, what later action is accounted for? II, iv : Point out all the veiled references Viola makes to her own love. Can they be as effective when the play is read as when it is acted? Why? What dramatic purpose does the Clown's comment on the Duke's changeableness serve (II, iv, 75) ? II, v : How and to whom are the remarks of Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian made after Malvolio enters (1, 26) ? Describe a proper setting for the scene. 198 APPENDIX III, i: Does the talk of Viola and the Clown at the beginning of this scene further the plot? What does it do? What defense is there (as in difference of rank) for Olivia's declaration of her love? What new complication of the plot begins in III, ii? Note how this brings the main serious plot and the comic under-plots together. Ill, iii: What dramatic reason do you find for An- tonio's fear to be seen in Illyria? III, iv: Point out the specific effect of every part of the letter Malvolio found. What incentive besides mere love of a joke have the plotters against Malvolio? Do you find it objectionable that the heroine should be the butt of a practical joke? What does the mock duel accomplish for the plot? Of what scene in a more recent English play are you reminded by this scene (cf. The Rivals) ? To whom is Viola talking just after Antonio's exit, III, iv, 414 ff.? What is the l ' element ' ' referred to in the first note on Act IV (p. 179) ? IV, ii: What portions of the Clown's speeches on page 134 are in his own person? What other person does he represent? Is the action of IV, iii, sufficiently accounted for? How? See the question in the note on V, i, 129. Whose appearance unties the dramatic knot? Show in detail how. Do you find the Duke 's transfer of his affection to Viola prepared for (e. g., in his character)? Is it reasonable? Does he deserve her? What becomes of the various characters besides the two APPENDIX 199 principal pairs of lovers especially Malvolio, Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew? What significance has the song at the end of the play? THE PLOT IN GENERAL Whence comes the title of the play? What do you think of it? What contemporary beliefs and customs do you find satirized (as in IV, ii) ? Where is Illyria, the scene of the play? For what purposes is soliloquy used in this play (as at end of II, ii, etc.) ? What examples of ' ' double time ' ' are there in Twelfth Night (as I, iv, 3; V, i, 103; etc.)? Compare this play with The Comedy of Errors as to the use of confusion of identity. What scenes here are farcical? What scenes are much more effective acted than read? Why? CHARACTERIZATION The scene of the play is Illyria. Of what nationality are the comic characters? What male part requires the best actor in a stage pre- sentation of Twelfth Night? Why? What idea of the Duke's character do we get at the very beginning of the play? Is the portrait of him con- sistent throughout? He has been compared with Romeo before the meeting with Juliet. What is the point of the comparison? How are we prepared for the characteristics of Sir Andrew before we meet him? How does his name fit him? What other characters are there in this play whose names fit similarly? To what extent is Malvolio 's character indicated by his first speeches (I, v, 84, 93), and Olivia's comment? In 200 APPENDIX what respects is he properly called by Maria a Puritan (II, iii, 160) f Point out the different ways in which Viola's character is revealed. Verify the statement as to Viola 's speeches in note on III, i, 97 (p. 173). Compare the Clown in this play with Touchstone in As You Like It, and other Shaksperean fools. Does he have any function -beside creating humor? THEME SUBJECTS 1. Shakspere 's life (pp. 17-28). 2. The drama before Shakspere (pp. 16-17). 3. The stage of Shakspere 's time (pp. 22, 23; with illustration of how different parts of this play were pre- sumably staged). 4. Twelfth Night and its source (pp. 32-35; note especially what is added by the characters of Shakspere 's creation). 5. Narrative themes on the following subjects: The story of Duke Orsino; The story of Viola ; Olivia's love affairs; The deluding of Malvolio ; The story of Sebastian. 6. Character sketches of the following: Orsino (cf. Eomeo before he meets Juliet) ; Viola; Olivia; Malvolio ; Sir Toby; Sir Andrew; Maria, APPENDIX 201 7. Comparison of the Clown with other Shaksperean clowns (e. g., Touchstone). 8. Comparison of the duel scene in Twelfth Night with that in The Rivals. 9. Viola's disguise (the reason for it, effects of it, double meanings made possible by it especially p. 87, etc.). 10. Confusion of identity in this play (where it oc- curs, what part it plays in working up comic situations, etc.). 11. The use of prose and verse. 12. Twelfth Night on the stage. (Note especially parts that are more effective when acted than one easily realizes on merely reading them.) 13. Discussion of Malvolio's alleged Puritanism. (To what extent, if at all, is he a satire on the Puritans?) 14. The songs in the play. (Note what relations, if any, they have to the situations in which they are intro- duced; what merits they have in themselves, etc.). 202 APPENDIX SELECTIONS FOB CLASS READING Passages particularly worth reading aloud or acting in the classroom are as follows: 1. The love-sick Duke (pp. 45-47). 2. Enter Sir Toby and Sir Andrew (pp. 50-55). 3. Malvolio is introduced (pp. 60-63). 4. Olivia and Viola (pp. 66-70). 5. Viola receives Olivia's ring (pp. 73, 74). 6. Malvolio stirs up resentment (pp. 78-82). 7. Viola and the Duke (pp. 83-88). 8. Malvolio deluded (pp. 89-95). 9. Viola and the Clown (pp. 97-99). 10. Sir Andrew is urged to the duel (pp. 104-6). 11. Malvolio and Olivia (pp. 110-13). 12. Sir Andrew's quarrel (pp. 115-17, 119-22). 13. "Sir Topas":'and Malvolio (pp. 130-35). 14. The misunderstanding as to Olivia's wedding (pp. 142-45). 15. Explanations (pp. 147-50). 16. Malvolio is* enlightened (pp. 152-54). ROLAW 14 DAY USE RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED LOAN DEPT. This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on the date to which renewed. Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. LIBRARY USE ORT i 1 1960 "\ftl^ 5 KEXTD LD ^^^ ( OCTliflfiO 24lul'64Jf i " 4^ REC'D L n *"^ *JL/ UL 13-64 . a p.. *i4^6S) REC'D ^ ftpR!4'65^H (A9562slO)476B Berkeley YA 09146 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY