297Ma. Nay, either tell me where thou hast bin, or I will

298not open my lippes so wide as a brissle may enter, in way

299of thy excuse: my Lady will hang thee for thy absence.

300Clo. Let her hang me: hee that is well hang'de in this

301world, needs to feare no colours.

302Ma. Make that good.

303Clo. He shall see none to feare.

304Ma. A good lenton answer: I can tell thee where y^t

305saying was borne, of I feare no colours.

306Clo. Where good mistris Mary?

307Ma. In the warrs, & that may you be bolde to say in

308your foolerie.

309Clo. Well, God giue them wisedome that haue it: &

310those that are fooles, let them vse their talents.

311Ma. Yet you will be hang'd for being so long absent,

312or to be turn'd away: is not that as good as a hanging to

313you?

314Clo. Many a good hanging, preuents a bad marriage:

315and for turning away, let summer beare it out.

316Ma. You are resolute then?

317Clo. Not so neyther, but I am resolu'd on two points

318Ma. That if one breake, the other will hold: or if both

319breake, your gaskins fall.

320Clo. Apt in good faith, very apt: well go thy way, if

321sir Toby would leaue drinking, thou wert as witty a piece

322of Eues flesh, as any in Illyria.

323Ma. Peace you rogue, no more o'that: here comes my

324Lady: make your excuse wisely, you were best.

326Clo. Wit, and't be thy will, put me into good fooling:

327those wits that thinke they haue thee, doe very oft proue

328fooles: and I that am sure I lacke thee, may passe for a

329wise man. For what saies Quinapalus, Better a witty foole,

330then a foolish wit. God blesse thee Lady.

331Ol. Take the foole away.

332Clo. Do you not heare fellowes, take away the Ladie.

333Ol. Go too, y'are a dry foole: Ile no more of you: be-

334sides you grow dis-honest.

335Clo. Two faults Madona, that drinke & good counsell

336wil amend: for giue the dry foole drink, then is the foole

337not dry: bid the dishonest man mend himself, if he mend,

338he is no longer dishonest; if hee cannot, let the Botcher

339mend him: any thing that's mended, is but patch'd: vertu

340that transgresses, is but patcht with sinne, and sin that a-

341mends, is but patcht with vertue. If that this simple

342Sillogisme will serue, so: if it will not, vvhat remedy?

Y3 As

258 Twelfe Night, or, What you will.

343As there is no true Cuckold but calamity, so beauties a

344flower; The Lady bad take away the foole, therefore I

345say againe, take her away.

346Ol. Sir, I bad them take away you.

347Clo. Misprision in the highest degree. Lady, Cucullus

348non facit monachum: that's as much to say, as I weare not

349motley in my braine: good Madona, giue mee leaue to

350proue you a foole.

351Ol. Can you do it?

352Clo. Dexteriously, good Madona.

353Ol. Make your proofe.

354Clo. I must catechize you for it Madona, Good my

355Mouse of vertue answer mee.

356Ol. Well sir, for want of other idlenesse, Ile bide your

357proofe.

358Clo. Good Madona, why mournst thou?

359Ol. Good foole, for my brothers death.

360Clo. I thinke his soule is in hell, Madona.

361Ol. I know his soule is in heauen, foole.

362Clo. The more foole (Madona) to mourne for your

363Brothers soule, being in heauen. Take away the Foole,

364Gentlemen.

365Ol. What thinke you of this foole Maluolio, doth he

366not mend?

367Mal. Yes, and shall do, till the pangs of death shake

368him: Infirmity that decaies the wise, doth euer make the

369better foole.

370Clow. God send you sir, a speedie Infirmity, for the

371better increasing your folly: Sir Toby will be sworn that

372I am no Fox, but he wil not passe his word for two pence

373that you are no Foole.

374Ol. How say you to that Maluolio?

375Mal. I maruell your Ladyship takes delight in such

376a barren rascall: I saw him put down the other day, with

377an ordinary foole, that has no more braine then a stone.

378Looke you now, he's out of his gard already: vnles you

379laugh and minister occasion to him, he is gag'd. I protest

380I take these Wisemen, that crow so at these set kinde of

381fooles, no better then the fooles Zanies.

382Ol. O you are sicke of selfe-loue Maluolio, and taste

383with a distemper'd appetite. To be generous, guitlesse,

384and of free disposition, is to take those things for Bird-

385bolts, that you deeme Cannon bullets: There is no slan-

386der in an allow'd foole, though he do nothing but rayle;

387nor no rayling, in a knowne discreet man, though hee do

388nothing but reproue.

389Clo. Now Mercury indue thee with leasing, for thou

390speak'st well of fooles.

392Mar. Madam, there is at the gate, a young Gentle-

393man, much desires to speake with you.

394Ol. From the Count Orsino, is it?

395Ma I know not (Madam) 'tis a faire young man, and

396well attended.

397Ol. Who of my people hold him in delay:

398Ma. Sir Toby Madam, your kinsman.

399Ol. Fetch him off I pray you, he speakes nothing but

400madman: Fie on him. Go you Maluolio; If it be a suit

401from the Count, I am sicke, or not at home. What you

402will, to dismisse it. Exit Maluo.

403Now you see sir, how your fooling growes old, & peo-

404ple dislike it.

405Clo. Thou hast spoke for vs (Madona) as if thy eldest

406sonne should be a foole: whose scull, Ioue cramme with

407braines, for heere he comes. Enter Sir Toby.

408One of thy kin has a most weake Pia-mater.

409Ol. By mine honor halfe drunke. What is he at the

410gate Cosin?

411To. A Gentleman.

412Ol. A Gentleman? What Gentleman?

413To. 'Tis a Gentleman heere. A plague o'these pickle

414herring: How now Sot.

415Clo. Good Sir Toby.

416Ol. Cosin, Cosin, how haue you come so earely by

417this Lethargie?

418To. Letcherie, I defie Letchery: there's one at the

419gate.

420Ol. I marry, what is he?

421To. Let him be the diuell and he will, I care not: giue

422me faith say I. Well, it's all one. Exit

423Ol. What's a drunken man like, foole?

424Clo. Like a drown'd man, a foole, and a madde man:

425One draught aboue heate, makes him a foole, the second

426maddes him, and a third drownes him.

427Ol. Go thou and seeke the Crowner, and let him sitte

428o'my Coz: for he's in the third degree of drinke: hee's

429drown'd: go looke after him.

430Clo. He is but mad yet Madona, and the foole shall

431looke to the madman.

433Mal. Madam, yond young fellow sweares hee will

434speake with you. I told him you were sicke, he takes on

435him to vnderstand so much, and therefore comes to speak

436with you. I told him you were asleepe, he seems to haue

437a fore knowledge of that too, and therefore comes to

438speake with you. What is to be said to him Ladie, hee's

439fortified against any deniall.

440Ol. Tell him, he shall not speake with me.

441Mal. Ha's beene told so: and hee sayos hee'l stand at

442your doore like a Sheriffes post, and be the supporter to

443a bench, but hee'l speake with you.

444Ol. What kinde o'man is he?

445Mal. Why of mankinde.

446Ol. What manner of man?

447Mal. Of verie ill manner: hee'l speake with you, will

448you, or no.

449Ol. Of what personage, and yeeres is he?

450Mal. Not yet old enough for a man, nor yong enough

451for a boy: as a squash is before tis a pescod, or a Codling

452when tis almost an Apple: Tis with him in standing wa-

453ter, betweene boy and man. He is verie well-fauour'd,

454and he speakes verie shrewishly: One would thinke his

455mothers milke were scarse out of him.

456Ol. Let him approach: Call in my Gentlewoman.'

457Mal. Gentlewoman, my Lady calles. Exit.

459Ol. Giue me my vaile: come throw it ore my face,

460Wee'l once more heare Orsinos Embassie.

462Vio. The honorable Ladie of the house, which is she?

463Ol. Speake to me, I shall answer for her: your will.

464Vio. Most radiant, exquisite, and vnmatchable beau-

465tie. I pray you tell me if this bee the Lady of the house,

466for I neuer saw her. I would bee loath to cast away my

467speech: for besides that it is excellently well pend, I haue

468taken great paines to con it. Good Beauties, let mee su-

469staine no scorne; I am very comptible, euen to the least

470sinister vsage.

471Ol. Whence came you sir?

472Vio. I can say little more then I haue studied, & that

473question's out of my part. Good gentle one, giue mee

474modest assurance, if you be the Ladie of the house, that

Twelfe Night, or, What you will. 259

475may proceede in my speech.

476Ol. Are you a Comedian?

477Vio. No my profound heart: and yet (by the verie

478phangs of malice, I sweare) I am not that I play. Are you

479the Ladie of the house?

480Ol. If I do not vsurpe my selfe, I am.

481Vio. Most certaine, if you are she, you do vsurp your

482selfe: for what is yours to bestowe, is, not yours to re-

483serue. But this is from my Commission: I will on with

484my speech in your praise, and then shew you the heart of

485my message.

486Ol. Come to what is important in't: I forgiue you

487the praise.

488Vio. Alas, I tooke great paines to studie it, and 'tis

489Poeticall.

490Ol. It is the more like to be feigned, I pray you keep

491it in. I heard you were sawcy at my gates, & allowd your

492approach rather to wonder at you, then to heare you. If

493you be not mad, be gone: if you haue reason, be breefe:

494'tis not that time of Moone with me, to make one in so

495skipping a dialogue.

496Ma. Will you hoyst sayle sir, here lies your way.

497Vio. No good swabber, I am to hull here a little lon-

498ger. Some mollification for your Giant, sweete Ladie;

499tell me your minde, I am a messenger.

500Ol. Sure you haue some hiddeous matter to deliuer,

501when the curtesie of it is so fearefull. Speake your office.

502Vio. It alone concernes your eare: I bring no ouer-

503ture of warre, no taxation of homage; I hold the Olyffe

504in my hand: my words are as full of peace, as matter.

505Ol. Yet you began rudely. What are you?

506What would you?

507Vio. The rudenesse that hath appear'd in mee, haue I

508learn'd from my entertainment. What I am, and what I

509would, are as secret as maiden-head: to your eares, Di-

510uinity; to any others, prophanation.

511Ol. Giue vs the place alone,

512We will heare this diuinitie. Now sir, what is your text?

513Vio. Most sweet Ladie.

514Ol. A comfortable doctrine, and much may bee saide

515of it. Where lies your Text?

516Vio. In Orsinoes bosome.

517Ol. In his bosome? In what chapter of his bosome?

518Vio. To answer by the method, in the first of his hart.

519Ol. O, I haue read it: it is heresie. Haue you no more

520to say?

521Vio. Good Madam, let me see your face.

522Ol. Haue you any Commission from your Lord, to

523negotiate with my face: you are now out of your Text:

524but we will draw the Curtain, and shew you the picture.

525Looke you sir, such a one I was this present: Ist not well

526done?

527Vio. Excellently done, if God did all.

528Ol. 'Tis in graine sir, 'twill endure winde and wea-

529ther.

530Vio. Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white,

531Natures owne sweet, and cunning hand laid on:

532Lady, you are the cruell'st shee aliue,

533If you will leade these graces to the graue,

534And leaue the world no copie.

535Ol. O sir, I will not be so hard-hearted: I will giue

536out diuers scedules of my beautie. It shalbe Inuentoried

537and euery particle and vtensile labell'd to my will: As,

538Item two lippes indifferent redde, Item two grey eyes,

539with lids to them: Item, one necke, one chin, & so forth.

540Were you sent hither to praise me?

541Vio. I see you what you are, you are too proud:

542But if you were the diuell, you are faire:

543My Lord, and master loues you: O such loue

544Could be but recompenc'd, though you were crown'd

545The non-pareil of beautie.

546Ol. How does he loue me?

547Vio. With adorations, fertill teares,

548With groanes that thunder loue, with sighes of fire.

549Ol. Your Lord does know my mind, I cannot loue him

550Yet I suppose him vertuous, know him noble,

551Of great estate, of fresh and stainlesse youth;

552In voyces well divulg'd, free, learn'd, and valiant,

553And in dimension, and the shape of nature,

554A gracious person; But yet I cannot loue him:

555He might haue tooke his answer long ago.

556Vio. If I did loue you in my masters flame,

557With such a suffring, such a deadly life:

558In your deniall, I would finde no sence,

559I would not vnderstand it.

560Ol. Why, what would you?

561Vio. Make me a willow Cabine at your gate,

562And call vpon my soule within the house,

563Write loyall Cantons of contemned loue,

564And sing them lowd euen in the dead of night:

565Hallow your name to the reuerberate hilles,

566And make the babling Gossip of the aire,

567Cry out Oliuia: O you should not rest

568Betweene the elements of ayre, and earth,

569But you should pittie me.

570Ol. You might do much:

571What is your Parentage?

572Vio. Aboue my fortunes, yet my state is well:

573I am a Gentleman.

574Ol. Get you to your Lord:

575I cannot loue him: let him send no more,

576Vnlesse (perchance) you come to me againe,

577To tell me how he takes it: Fare you well:

578I thanke you for your paines: spend this for mee.

579Vio. I am no feede poast, Lady; keepe your purse,

580My Master, not my selfe, lackes recompence.

581Loue make his heart of flint, that you shal loue,

582And let your feruour like my masters be,

583Plac'd in contempt: Farwell fayre crueltie. Exit

584Ol. What is your Parentage?

585Aboue my fortunes, yet my state is well;

586I am a Gentleman. Ile be sworne thou art,

587Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbes, actions, and spirit,

588Do giue thee fiue-fold blazon: not too fast: soft, soft,

589Vnlesse the Master were the man. How now?

590Euen so quickly may one catch the plague?

591Me thinkes I feele this youths perfections

592With an inuisible, and subtle stealth

593To creepe in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.

594What hoa, Maluolio.

596Mal. Heere Madam, at your seruice.

597Ol. Run after that same peeuish Messenger

598The Countes man: he left this Ring behinde him

599Would I, or not: tell him, Ile none of it.

600Desire him not to flatter with his Lord,

601Nor hold him vp with hopes, I am not for him:

602If that the youth will come this way to morrow,

603Ile giue him reasons for't: hie thee Maluolio.

604Mal. Madam, I will. Exit.

605Ol. I do I know not what, and feare to finde

606Mine eye too great a flatterer for my minde:

260Twelfe Night, or, What you will.

607Fate, shew thy force, our selues we do not owe,

608What is decreed, must be: and be this so.