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,
So went he suited to his watery tomb.
If spirits can assume both form and suit
You come to fright us.

That severs day from night.

Duke. Give me thy hand; And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds. Vio. The captain that did bring me first on

284

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.

And yet, alas, now I remember me,

288

248

Seb. A spirit I am indeed; But am in that dimension grossly clad Which from the womb I did participate. 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.

253 Vio. And died that day when Viola from her birth

Had number'd thirteen years.

Seb. O! that record is lively in my soul. 256 He finished indeed his mortal act That day that made my sister thirteen years.

Clo. Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the stave's end as well as a man in his case may do. He has here writ a letter to you: I should have given it to you to-day morning; but as a madman's epistles are no gospels, so it skills not much when they are delivered.

Oli. Open it, and read it.

300

312

Oli. [TO FABIAN.] Read it you, sirrah. Fab. 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 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 unthought of, and speak out of my injury. THE MADLY-USED MALVOLIO. Oli. Did he write this? Clo. Ay, madam.

324

Duke. This savours not much of distraction. Oli. See him deliver'd, Fabian; bring him hither. [Exit FABIAN.

My lord, so please you, these things further thought on,

To think me as well a sister as a wife,

328

One day shall crown the alliance on 't, so please you,

Here at my house and at my proper cost.
Duke. Madam, I am most apt to embrace
your offer.
332
[TO VIOLA.] Your master quits you; and, for
your service done him,

So much against the mettle of your sex,
So far beneath your soft and tender breeding;
And since you call'd me master for so long, 336
Here is my hand: you shall from this time be
Your master's mistress.

Ay, my lord, this same.

Mal. Madam, you have done me wrong, Notorious wrong.

Oli.

Have I, Malvolio? no. 341 Mal. Lady, you have. Pray you peruse that letter.

You must not now deny it is your hand:
Write from it, if you can, in hand or phrase,
Or say 'tis not your seal nor your invention: 345
You can say none of this. Well, grant it then,
And tell me, in the modesty of honour,
Why you have given me such clear lights of
favour,
348
Bade me come smiling and cross-garter'd to you,
To put on yellow stockings, and to frown
Upon Sir Toby and the lighter people;
And, acting this in an obedient hope,
Why have you suffer'd me to be imprison'd,
Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest,
And made the most notorious geck and gull
That e'er invention play'd on? tell me why. 356
Oli. 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

352

360

First told me thou wast mad; then cam'st in smiling,

And in such forms which here were presuppos'd Upon thee in the letter. Prithee, be content: This practice hath most shrewdly pass'd upon thee;

364

But when we know the grounds and authors of it,

Clo. Why, some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrown upon them.' I was one, sir, in this interlude; one Sir Topas, sir; but that's all one. By the Lord, fool, I am not mad:' But do you remember? 'Madam, why laugh you at such a barren rascal? an you smile not, he's gagged:' and thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges. 389 Mal. I'll be reveng'd on the whole pack of you. [Exit.

Oli. He hath been most notoriously abus`d. Duke. Pursue him, and entreat him to a

368

But when I came, alas! to wive,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain;
By swaggering could I never thrive,
For the rain it raineth every day.
But when I came unto my beds,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain;
With toss-pots still had drunken heads,
For the rain it raineth every day.
A great while ago the world begun,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain;
But that's all one, our play is done,
And we'll strive to please you every day.
[Exit.

412

416

Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge 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 wonder'd at. In hope it shall

not,

throne

Without a burden: time as long again

What lady she her lord. You'll stay?

Pol.

No, madam. 44

Would be fill'd up, my brother, with our thanks; And yet we should for perpetuity

5

Pol.

I may not, verily.

Her. Verily!

Go hence in debt: and therefore, like a cipher,
Yet standing in rich place, I multiply

With one 'We thank you' many thousands moe
That go before it.
Leon.
Stay your thanks awhile,
And pay them when you part.
Pol.

9

Sir, that's to-morrow. I am question'd by my fears, of what may chance Or breed upon our absence; that may blow 12 No sneaping winds at home, to make us say, 'This is put forth too truly!' Besides, I have stay'd

To tire your royalty.

Leon.

We are tougher, brother,

Than you can put us to't.

Pol.

No longer stay. 16 Leon. One seven-night longer. Pol. Very sooth, to-morrow. Leon. We'll part the time between's then; and in that I'll no gainsaying. Pol. Press me not, beseech you, so. There is no tongue that moves, none, none i' the world,

20

So soon as yours could win me: so it should now, Were there necessity in your request, although 'Twere needful I denied it. My affairs

Do even drag me homeward; which to hinder 24
Were in your love a whip to me; my stay
To you a charge and trouble: to save both,
Farewell, our brother.

Leon. Tongue-tied, our queen? speak you. Her. I had thought, sir, to have held my peace until

28 You had drawn oaths from him not to stay. You, sir,

Charge him too coldly: tell him, you are sure
All in Bohemia's well: this satisfaction
The by-gone day proclaim'd: say this to him, 32
He's beat from his best ward.

Leon.
Well said, Hermione.
Her. To tell he longs to see his son were
strong:

But let him say so then, and let him go;
But let him swear so, and he shall not stay, 36
We'll thwack him hence with distaffs.
[TO POLIXENES.] Yet of your royal presence I'll
adventure

The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia
You take my lord, I'll give him my commission
To let him there a month behind the gest 41
Prefix'd for's parting: yet, good deed, Leontes,

Was innocence for innocence; we knew not
The doctrine of ill-doing, no nor dream'd
That any did. Had we pursu'd that life,
And our weak spirits ne'er been higher rear'd 72
With stronger blood, we should have answer'd
heaven

Boldly, 'not guilty;' the imposition clear'd
Hereditary ours.
Her.
By this we gather
You have tripp'd since.
Pol.
O! my most sacred lady, 76
Temptations have since then been born to's; for
In those unfledg'd days was my wife a girl;
Your precious self had then not cross'd the eyes
Of my young playfellow.

Her.

Leon.

Never?

88

Never, but once. Her. What! have I twice said well? when was 't before?

I prithee tell me; cram's with praise, and make's

As fat as tame things: one good deed, dying tongueless, 92

Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that.
Our praises are our wages: you may ride's
With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs ere
With spur we heat an acre. But to the goal: 96
My last good deed was to entreat his stay:
What was my first? it has an elder sister,
Or I mistake you: O! would her name were
Grace.

But once before I spoke to the purpose: when?
Nay, let me have 't; I long.

Leon. Why, that was when Three crabbed months had sour'd themselves to death,

Ere I could make thee open thy white hand And clap thyself my love: then didst thou utter,

'I am yours for ever.'

Her.

'Tis grace indeed.

104

Why, lo you now, I have spoke to the purpose

twice:

[Giving her hand to POLIXENES. Leon. [Aside.] Too hot, too hot! To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods. I have tremor cordis on me: my heart dances; But not for joy; not joy. This entertainment 112 May a free face put on, derive a liberty From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom, And well become the agent: 't may I grant: But to be paddling palms and pinching fingers, As now they are, and making practis'd smiles, 117 As in a looking-glass; and then to sigh, as 'twere

The mort o' the deer; O! that is entertainment My bosom likes not, nor my brows. Mamillius, Art thou my boy?

Ay, my good lord.

Mam. Leon. I' fecks? 121 Why, that's my bawcock. What! hast smutch'd thy nose?

They say it is a copy out of mine. Come, captain,

125

We must be neat; not neat, but cleanly, captain:
And yet the steer, the heifer, and the calf,
Are all call'd neat. Still virginalling
Upon his palm! How now, you wanton calf!
Art thou my calf?

Mam.
Yes, if you will, my lord. 128
Leon. Thou want'st a rough pash and the
shoots that I have,

To be full like me: yet they say we are
Almost as like as eggs; women say so,
That will say anything: but were they false 132
As o'er-dy'd blacks, as wind, as waters, false
As dice are to be wish'd by one that fixes
No bourn 'twixt his and mine, yet were it true
To say this boy were like me. Come, sir page,
Look on me with your welkin eye: sweet villain!
Most dear'st! my collop! Can thy dam?-may't
be?-

Affection! thy intention stabs the centre:
Thou dost make possible things not so held, 140
Communicat'st with dreams;-how can this be?—
With what's unreal thou co-active art,
And fellow'st nothing: then, 'tis very credent
Thou mayst co-join with something; and thou
dost,

144

And that beyond commission, and I find it,
And that to the infection of my brains
And hardening of my brows.
Pol.
What means Sicilia?
Her. He something seems unsettled.
Pol.
How, my lord! 148
What cheer? how is't with you, best brother?
Her.

You look
As if you held a brow of much distraction:
Are you mov'd, my lord?

Leon. No, in good earnest. How sometimes nature will betray its folly, 152 Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime To harder bosoms! Looking on the lines Of my boy's face, methoughts I did recoil Twenty-three years, and saw myself unbreech'd, In my green velvet coat, my dagger muzzled, Lest it should bite its master, and so prove, As ornaments oft do, too dangerous: How like, methought, I then was to this kernel, This squash, this gentleman. Mine honest friend,

Will you take eggs for money?

161

Mam.
No, my lord, I'll fight.
Leon. You will? why, happy man be his dole!

My brother,

Are you so fond of your young prince as we 164
Do seem to be of ours?

Pol.
If at home, sir,
He's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter,