Mine own escape 'unfoldeth to my hope, The like of him. Know'st thou this country ? Cap. Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and born, Not three hours travel from this very place. Vio. Who governs here? Cap. A noble duke in nature, as in name. Vio. What is his name? Cap. Orfino. Vio. Orfino! I have heard my father name him: Cap. And fo is now, or was fo very late: Vio. What's fhe? Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count That dy'd fome twelve-month fince; then leaving her In the protection of his fon, her brother, Who fhortly alfo dy'd: for whofe dear love, They fay, the hath abjur'd the fight And company of men. Vio. O, that I ferv'd that lady; And might not be deliver'd to the world, 'Till I had made mine own occafion mellow, What my estate is! Cap. That were hard to compafs; Because she will admit no kind of fuit, No, not the duke's. Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, captain; i unfoldeth to my hope,]-encourages me to hope. deliver'd to the world, till I bad made mine own occafion mellow,]— difcovered, divulged, till my defign was ripened. And And though that nature with a beauteous wall I pray thee, and I'll pay thee bounteously, Conceal me what I am; and be my aid For fuch difguife as, haply, fhall become Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be: SCENE III. Olivia's Houfe. Enter Sir Toby, and Maria. [Exeunt. Sir To. What a plague means my neice, to take the death of her brother thus? I am fure, care's an enemy to life. Mar. By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier o'nights; your coufin, my lady, takes great exceptions to your ill hours. Sir To. Why, let her "except, as before excepted. if your fweet fway "Allow obedience." LEAR, A& II, Sc. 4. Lear. Mar. Mar. Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modeft limits of order. Sir To. Confine? I'll confine myself no finer than I am: these clothes are good enough to drink in, and so be these boots too; an they be not, let them hang themselves in their own straps. Mar. That quaffing and drinking will undo you : I heard my lady talk of it yesterday; and of a foolish knight, that you brought in one night here, to be her wooer. Sir To. Who? Sir Andrew Ague-cheek? Mar. Ay, he. Sir To. He's as " tall a man as any's in Illyria. Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats a year. Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats; he's a very fool, and a prodigal. Sir To. Fie, that you'll fay fo! he plays o'th' ' viol-degambo, and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature. Mar. He hath, indeed, almost natural: for, besides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller; and, but that he hath a gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among the prudent, he would quickly have the gift of a grave. Sir To. By this hand they are fcoundrels, and subtractors, that say so of him. Who are they? Mar. They that add moreover, he's drunk nightly in your company. Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece; I'll drink to her, as long as there's a paffage in my throat, and drink in Illyria: He's a coward, and a coyftril, that will not drink to my niece, till his brains turn o'the toe like a tall]-proper. Pall, most natural. • viol-de-gambo,]-base viol. parish 'parish-top. What, wench? Caftiliano volto, for here comes Sir Andrew Ague-face. Enter Sir Andrew. Sir And. Sir Toby Belch! how now, Sir Toby Belch? Sir And. Bless you, fair fhrew. Mar. And you too, fir. Sir To. Accoft, fir Andrew, accost. Sir And. What's that? Sir To. My niece's chamber-maid. Sir And. Good mistress Accoft, I defire better acquaint ance. Mar. My name is Mary, fir. Sir And. Good Mrs. Mary Accoft Sir To. You mistake, knight: accoft, is, front her, board her, woo her, affail her. Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake her in this company. Is that the meaning of accost? Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen. Sir To. An thou let part fo, fir Andrew, would thou might'st never draw fword again. Sir And. An you part fo, mistress, I would I might never draw fword again; Fair lady, do you think you have fools in hand? Mar. Sir, I have not you by the hand. Sir And. Marry, but you fhall have; and here's my hand. Mar. Now, fir, thought is free: I pray you, bring your hand to the buttery-bar, and let it drink. parish-top.]-a large one, kept formerly in most villages for the exercise of the peasants, in frofty weather, when they could not work: hence the proverb, "To fleep like a town-top.' Caftiliano volto;]-Put on your best looks, bridle, hold up your head. bring your hand to the buttery-bar, and let it drink.]—a proverbial expreffion, meaning, give me a kifs, and make me a prefent. Sir And Sir And. Wherefore, fweet heart? what's your metaphor? Mar. "It's dry, fir. Sir And. Why, I think fo; I am not such an ass, but I can keep my hand dry. But what's your jeft? Mar. A dry jeft, fir. Sir And. Are you full of them? Mar. Ay, fir; I have them at my fingers' ends: marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren. [Exit Maria. Sir To. O knight, thou lack'ft a cup of canary; When did I fee thee fo put down? Sir And. Never in your life, I think; unless you see canary put me down: Methinks, fometimes I have no more wit than a christian, or an ordinary man has: but I am a great eater of beef, and, I believe, that does harm to my wit. Sir To. No queftion. Sir And. An I thought that, I'd forfwear it. I'll ride home to-morrow, fir Toby. Sir To. Pourquoy, my dear knight? Sir And. What is pourquoy? do or not do? I would I had bestowed that time in the tongues, that I have in fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting: O, had I but followed the arts! Sir To. Then hadft thou had an excellent head of hair. Sir And. Why, would that have mended my hair? Sir To. Paft queftion; for thou feeft, it will not curl by nature. W Sir And. But it becomes me well enough, does't not? Sir To. Excellent! it hangs like flax on a distaff; and " It's dry, fir.]—a fign of frigidity and avarice. "If an oily palm be not a fruitful prognostication, "I cannot fcratch my ear." ANTHONY AND CLEOPATRA, A&t I, Sc. 21 Char. without tongs. (a pun.) |