Sir And. Excellent good, i'faith! Clo. What is love? 'tis not hereafter : Then come kifs me, fweet, and twenty : Sir And. A mellifluous voice, as I am a true knight. Sir To. A contagious breath. Sir And. Very fweet and contagious, i'faith. Sir To. To hear by the nofe, it is dulcet in contagion. But fhall we make the welkin dance, indeed? Shall we roufe the night-owl in a catch, that will draw three fouls out of one weaver ? fhall we do that? Sir And. An you love me, let's do't: I am a dog at a catch. Clo. By'r lady, Sir, and fome dogs will catch well. Sir And. Moft certain: let our catch be, Thou knave. Clo. Hold thy peace, thou knave, Knight. I fhall be conftrain'd in't, to call thee knave, Knight. Sir And. 'Tis not the first time I have constrain'd one to call me knave. Begin, fool; it begins, Hold. thy peace. Clo. I fhall never begin if I hold my peace. [They fing a catch. SCENE IV. Enter Maria. Mar. What a catterwauling do you keep here? If my lady have not call'd up her fteward, Malvolio, and bid him turn you out of doors, never trust me. Sir To My lady's a Catayan, we are politicians, Malvolio's a Peg-a-Ramfey, and Three merry men be we. Am not I confanguinious? am I not of her blood? Tilly valley, Lady! there dwelt a man in Babylon, Lady, Lady. [Singing. Clo. Befhrew me, the Knight's in admirable fooling. Sir And. Ay, he does well enough if he be difpos'd, and fo do I too: he does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural. Sir To. O, the twelfth day of December,-[Singing. Mar. For the love o'God, peace. Enter Malvolio. Mal. My Mafters, are you mad? or what are you? have you no wit, manners, nor honefty, but to gabble like tinkers at this time of night? Do you make an ale-house of my Lady's houfe, that you fqueak out your cottiers* catches without any mitigation or remorfe of voice? is there no refpect of place, perfons, nor time, in you? Sir To. We did keep time, Sir, in our catches. Sneck up! [Hiccoughs. Mal. Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My Lady bade me tell you, that though fhe harbours you as her uncle, she's nothing allay'd to your disorders. If you can separate yourself and your misdemeanors, you are welcome to the houfe; if not, an it would please you to take leave of her, fhe is very willing to bid you farewell. Sir To. Farewel, dear heart, fince Imuft needs be gone, Mal, Nay, good Sir Toby. Clo. His eyes do fhew his days are almoft done. Mal. Is't even fo? Sir To. But I will never die. Clo. Sir Toby, there you lye. Sir To. Shall I bid him go? Clo. What, an if you do? [Singing. art thou any more because thou art Sir To. Shall I bid him go, and spare not? Clo. O no, no, no, you dare not. Sir To. Out o'time, Sir, ye lye: than a steward? doft thou think, virtuous, there fhall be no more cakes and ale? Clo. Yes, by Saint Anne; and ginger fhall be hot i' th' mouth too. Sir To. Thou'rt i' th' right. Go, Sir, rub your chain with crums. A ftoop of wine, Maria. Mal. Mistress Mary, if you priz'd my Lady's favour at any thing more than contempt, you would not give Rutic, Clownish, Ο means means for this uncivil rule; she shall know of it by this hand. Mar. Go fhake your ears. [Exit. Sir And. 'Twere as good a deed as to drink when man's a hungry, to challenge him to the field, and then to break promife with him, and make a fool of him. Sir To. Do't, Knight; I'll write thee a challenge: or I'll deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth. Mar. Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for to-night; fince the youth of the Duke's was to-day with my lady, the is much out of quiet. For Monfieur Malvolio, let me alone with him: if I do not gull him into a nay-word, and make him a common recreation, do not think I have wit enough to lie straight in my bed. I know I can do it. Sir To. Poffefs us, poffefs us; tell us fomething of him. Mar. Marry, Sir, fometimes he is a kind of a Puritan. Sir And. O, if I thought that, I'd beat him like a dog. Sir To. What, for being a Puritan? thy exquifite reason, dear Knight. Sir And. I have no exquifite reafon for't, but I have, reafon good enough. Mar. The devil a Puritan that he is, or any thing constantly but a time-pleafer; an affection'd *afs, that cons ftate without book, and utters it by great swaths: the best perfuaded of himself: so cramm'd, as he thinks, with excellencies, that it is his ground of faith, that all that look on him, love him; and on that vice in him will my revenge find notable cause to work. Sir To. What wilt thou do? Mar. I will drop in his way fome obfcure epiftles of love, wherein, by the colour of his beard, the fhape of his leg, the manner of his gate, the expreffure of his eye, forehead, and complexion, he fhall find himself most feelingly perfonated. I can write very like my Lady your niece; on a forgotten matter we can hardly make diftinction of our hands. Sir To. Excellent, I fmell a device. Affectioned, for full of affectation. Sir And. Sir And. I have't in my nofe too. Sir To. He fhall think by the letters that thou wilt drop, that they come from my niece, and that she is in love with him. Mar. My purpofe is, indeed, a horfe of that colour. Sir And. And your horse now would make him an afs. Mar. Afs, I doubt not. Sir And. O, 'twill be admirable. Mar. Sport royal, I warrant you: I know my phyfic will work with him. I will plant you two, and let the fool make a third, where he fhall find the letter: obferve his construction of it: for this night to bed, and dream on the event. Farewel. Sir To. Good night, Penthefilea. Sir And. Before me, fhe's a good wench. [Exit. Sir To. She's a beagle, true-bred, and one that adores me; what o' that? Sir And. I was ador'd once too. Sir To. Let's to bed, Knight: thou hadst need fend for more money. Sir And. If I cannot recover your niece, I am a foul way out. Sir To. Send for money, Knight; if thou haft her not i' th' end, call me cut. Sir And. If I do not, never truft me, take it how you will, Sir To. Come, come, I'll go burn fome fack, 'tis too late to go to bed now: come, Knight; come, Knight, [Exeunt, SCENE V. Changes to the palace. Enter Duke, Viola, Curio, and others. Duke Give me fome mufic; now, good morrow, Now, good Cefario, but that piece of fong, [friends: That old and antique fong, we heard last night; Methought it did relieve my paffion much; More than light airs, and recollected * terms Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times, Come, but one verfe. Recollected for ftudied, O 2 Cur Cur. He is not here, so please your Lordship, that fhould fing it. Duke. Who was it? Cur. Fefte the jefter, my Lord; a fool that the Lady Olivia's father took much delight in. He is about the house. Duke. Seek him out, and play the tune the while. Come hither, boy, if ever thou shalt love, Duke. Thou doft fpeak mafterly. My life upon't, young though thou art, thine eye Hath it not, boy? Vio. A little, by your favour. Duke. What kind of woman is't? Vio. Of your complexion. Duke. She is not worth thee then. What years, i' Vio. About your years, my Lord. [faith? Duke. "Too old, by Heav'n; let still the woman take "An elder than herself, fo wears fhe to him; "So fways fhe level in her husband's heart. More longing, wavering, fooner lost and worn, Vio. I think it well, my Lord. Duke. Then let thy love be younger Or thy affection cannot hold the bent: than thyself, For women are as rofes, whofe fair flower, Enter Curio, and Clown. Duke. O fellow, come; the fong we had last night. Mark |