If one should be a prey, how much the better The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.- Vio. Then westward-ho: Grace, and good disposition 'tend your ladyship! You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me? Oli. Stay: I pr'ythee, tell me, what thou think'st of me. I wish it might; for now I am your fool. Oli. O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his lip! A murd'rous guilt shows not itself more soon By maidhood, honor, truth, and every thing, I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth, [Cock strikes. And so adieu, good madam; never more Will I my master's tears to you deplore. Oli. Yet come again: for thou, perhaps, may'st move That heart, which now abhors, to like his love. ACT V. [Exeunt. Sebastian, the twin-brother of Viola, is saved from the wreck in which he believes his sister was lost. Having business at Orsino's court, he arrives there accompanied by his friend Antonio. He is supposed to be the exact counterpart of his sister, as she appears, when disguised as the Page. In passing near Olivia's house, he is encountered by a servant of the lady's, who has been sent to request Viola will come and speak with Olivia. He denies all knowledge of the lady, but Olivia enters, and believing him to be Viola, entreats him to enter the house: he consents,-and the lady so charms him, that he yields a willing assent to her proposals of immediate marriage. The Duke still persist ing in his passion for Olivia, determines to seek the lady in person, accompanied by Viola. On reaching Olivia's house, he is met by Antonio, Sebastian's friend, who accosts Viola, supposing her to be Sebastian. The Duke, supposing the man to be insane, indignantly rebukes him.-Olivia enters from the house, and seeing Viola, addresses her as her lately married husband. 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. What would my lord, but that he may not 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, Vio. My lord would speak, my duty hushes me. It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear, As howling after music. Oli. Still so constant, lord. Duke. What! to perverseness? you uncivil lady, To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars My soul the faithfull'st offerings hath breath'd out, That e'er devotion tender'd! What shall I do? Oli. Even what it please my lord, that shall become him. Like to the Egyptian thief, at point of death, Kill what I love; a savage jealousy, That sometime savors nobly?-But hear me this: That screws me from my true place in your favor, 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, To spite a raven's heart within a dove. Vio. And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly, To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die. After him I love, Vio. [Going. [Following If I do feign, you witnesses above, Punish my life, for tainting of my love! Oli. Ah me, detested! how am I beguil❜d! Vio. Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong? Duke. Come away. [Exit an Attendan Oli. Whither, my lord? Cesario, husband, stay. Oli. Ay, husband, can he that deny ? Duke. Her husband, sirrah? No, my lord, not I. Oli. Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear, Re-enter Attendant and Priest. Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence, Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings; Seal'd in my function, by my testimony: Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave, Duke. O, thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be Oli. Enter SEBASTIAN. Duke. One face, one habit, and two persons; A natural perspective, that is, and is not. [TO VIOLA Ant. Sebastian are you? Seb. Fear'st thou that, Antonio? Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian? Seb. Do I stand there? I never had a brother: What countryman? what name? what parentage? So went he suited to his watery tomb: Seb. Were you a woman, as the rest goes even, Vio. And died that day when Viola from her birth Seb. O, that record is lively in my soul! I'll bring you to a captain in this town, Where lie my maiden weeds; by whose gentle help All the occurrence of my fortune since Seb. So comes it, lady, you have been mistook: But nature to her bias drew in that, [TO VIOLA [TO OLIVIA. You would have been contracted to a maid; Nor are you therein, by my life, deceiv'd, You are betroth'd both to a maid and man. Duke. Be not amaz'd; right noble is his blood.— If this be so, as yet the glass seems true, I shall have share in this most happy wreck: [TO VIO. As doth that orbed continent the fire That severs day from night. Duke. Give me thy hand; Vio. The captain, that did bring me first on shore, A gentleman, and follower of my lady's. My lord, so please you, these things further thought on, One day shall crown the alliance on't, so please you, Duke. Madam, I am most apt to embrace your offer. Your master quits you;-[To VIOLA.]—and, for your service done him, So much against the mettle of your sex, So far beneath your soft and tender breeding, Oli. A sister?-you are she. Duke. A solemn combination shall be made ¡Exeunt. |