one;
Aside
though I would not have it grow on my chin. Is thy
lady within?
Clown Would not a pair of these have bred, sir?
VIOLA Yes, being kept together and put to use.
Clown I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia, sir, to bring
a Cressida to this Troilus.
VIOLA I understand you, sir; ’tis well begged.
Clown 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 ‘element,’ but the word is over-worn.
Exit
VIOLA 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,
And, like the haggard, cheque at every feather
That comes before his eye. This is a practise
As full of labour as a wise man’s art
For folly that he wisely shows is fit;
But wise men, folly-fall’n, quite taint their wit.
Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, and SIR ANDREW
SIR TOBY BELCH Save you, gentleman.
VIOLA And you, sir.
SIR ANDREW Dieu vous garde, monsieur.
VIOLA Et vous aussi; votre serviteur.
SIR ANDREW I hope, sir, you are; and I am yours.
SIR TOBY BELCH Will you encounter the house? my niece is desirous
you should enter, if your trade be to her.
VIOLA I am bound to your niece, sir; I mean, she is the
list of my voyage.
SIR TOBY BELCH Taste your legs, sir; put them to motion.
VIOLA My legs do better understand me, sir, than I
understand what you mean by bidding me taste my legs.
SIR TOBY BELCH I mean, to go, sir, to enter.
VIOLA I will answer you with gait and entrance. But we
are prevented.
Enter OLIVIA and MARIA
Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain
odours on you!
SIR ANDREW That youth’s a rare courtier: ‘Rain odours;’ well.
VIOLA My matter hath no voice, to your own most pregnant
and vouchsafed ear.
SIR ANDREW ‘Odours,’ ‘pregnant’ and ‘vouchsafed:’ I’ll get ’em
all three all ready.
OLIVIA Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing.
Exeunt SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and MARIA
Give me your hand, sir.
VIOLA My duty, madam, and most humble service.
OLIVIA What is your name?
VIOLA Cesario is your servant’s name, fair princess.
OLIVIA My servant, sir! ‘Twas never merry world
Since lowly feigning was call’d compliment:
You’re servant to the Count Orsino, youth.
VIOLA And he is yours, and his must needs be yours:
Your servant’s servant is your servant, madam.
OLIVIA For him, I think not on him: for his thoughts,
Would they were blanks, rather than fill’d with me!
VIOLA Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts
On his behalf.
OLIVIA O, 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.
VIOLA Dear lady,–
OLIVIA 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:
Under your hard construction must I sit,
To force that on you, in a shameful cunning,
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
That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiving
Enough is shown: a cypress, not a bosom,
Hideth my heart. So, let me hear you speak.
VIOLA I pity you.
OLIVIA That’s a degree to love.
VIOLA No, not a grize; for ’tis a vulgar proof,
That very oft we pity enemies.
OLIVIA Why, then, methinks ’tis time to smile again.
O, 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 of time.
Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you:
And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest,
Your were is alike to reap a proper man:
There lies your way, due west.
VIOLA Then westward-ho! Grace and good disposition
Attend your ladyship!
You’ll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?
OLIVIA Stay:
I prithee, tell me what thou thinkest of me.
VIOLA That you do think you are not what you are.
OLIVIA If I think so, I think the same of you.
VIOLA Then think you right: I am not what I am.
OLIVIA I would you were as I would have you be!
VIOLA Would it be better, madam, than I am?
I wish it might, for now I am your fool.
OLIVIA O, 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.
Cesario, by the roses of the spring,
By maidhood, honour, truth and every thing,
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,
For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause,
But rather reason thus with reason fetter,
Love sought is good, but given unsought better.
VIOLA By innocence I swear, and by my youth
I have one heart, one bosom and one truth,
And that no woman has; nor never none
Shall mistress be of it, save I alone.
And so adieu, good madam: never more
Will I my master’s tears to you deplore.
OLIVIA Yet come again; for thou perhaps mayst move
That heart, which now abhors, to like his love.
Exeunt
Scene 2
OLIVIA’s house.
Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN
SIR ANDREW No, faith, I’ll not stay a jot longer.
SIR TOBY BELCH Thy reason, dear venom, give thy reason.
FABIAN You must needs yield your reason, Sir Andrew.
SIR ANDREW Marry, I saw your niece do more favours to the
count’s serving-man than ever she bestowed upon me;
I saw’t i’ the orchard.
SIR TOBY BELCH Did she see thee the while, old boy? tell me that.
SIR ANDREW As plain as I see you now.
FABIAN This was a great argument of love in her toward you.
SIR ANDREW ‘Slight, will you make an ass o’ me?
FABIAN I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of
judgment and reason.
SIR TOBY BELCH And they have been grand-jury-men since before Noah
was a sailor.
FABIAN 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 and brimstone in your liver.
You should then have accosted her; and with some
excellent jests, fire-new from the mint, you should
have banged the youth into dumbness. This 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 Dutchman’s beard, unless you do redeem it by
some laudable attempt either of valour or policy.
SIR ANDREW An’t be any way, it must be with valour; for policy
I hate: I had as lief be a Brownist as a
politician.
SIR TOBY BELCH Why, then, build me thy fortunes 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; and assure thyself, there is no
love-broker in the world can more prevail in man’s
commendation with woman than report of valour.
FABIAN There is no way but this, Sir Andrew.
SIR ANDREW Will either of you bear me a challenge to him?
SIR TOBY BELCH Go, write it in a martial hand; be curst and brief;
it is no matter how witty, so it be eloquent and fun
of invention: taunt him with the licence of ink:
if thou thou’st 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 ink, though thou
write with a goose-pen, no matter: about it.
SIR ANDREW Where shall I find you?
SIR TOBY BELCH We’ll call thee at the cubiculo: go.
Exit SIR ANDREW
FABIAN This is a dear manikin to you, Sir Toby.
SIR TOBY BELCH I have been dear to him, lad, some two thousand
strong, or so.
FABIAN We shall have a rare letter from him: but you’ll