Vio. Even now, Sir; on a moderate pace I have fince arrived but hither. Mal. She returns this ring to you, Sir; you might have faved me my pains, to have taken it away your felf. She adds moreover, that you should put your Lord into a defperate affurance, she will none of him. And one thing more, that you be never fo hardy to come again in his affairs, unlefs it be to report your Lord's taking of this: receive it fo. Vio. She took the ring of me, I'll none of it. Mal. Come, Sir, you peevishly threw it to her, and her will is, it should be fo returned: if it be worth ftooping for, there it lies in your eye; if not, be it his that finds it. [Exit. She loves me, fure; the cunning of her paffion None of my Lord's ring? why, he fent her none. In womens waxen hearts to fet their forms! F 2 [Exit. SCENE SCENE changes to Olivia's Houfe. Enter Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew. Sir To. A Pproach, Sir Andrew, not to be a-bed af ter midnight, is to be up Diluculo furgere, thou know'ft,- betimes; and Sir And. Nay, by my troth, I know not: but I know, to be up late, is to be up late. Sir To. A falfe conclufion: I hate it, as an unfill'd can; to be up after midnight, and to go to bed then, is early; fo that to go to bed after midnight, is to go to bed betimes. Does not our life confift of the four. elements ? Sir And. 'Faith, fo they fay; but, I think, it rather confifts of eating and drinking. Sir To. Th'art a fcholar, let us therefore eat and drink. Maria! I fay!— a floop of wine. Enter Clown.. Sir And. Here comes the fool, i' faith. Clo. How now, my hearts? did you never fee the picture of we three? Sir To. Welcome, afs, now let's have a catch. Sir And. (5) By my troth, the fool has an excellent breaft. I had rather than forty fhillings I had fuch a leg, and fo fweet a breath to fing, as the fool has." Infooth, thou waft in very gracious fooling laft night, (5) By my troth, the fool has an excellent breast.] I have been advis'd to read, breath, here. But the text is, certainly, right without any alteration. The allufion is not to the clown, having a white skin, but a good power in finging. It was a phrafe in vogue, in our author's time. In a Spanish vocabulary, printed in Queen Elizabeth's reign, Aquel tiene linda box is thus expounded; He has a good breast, i. as we now fay, good lungs, to hold out in finging. So Ben Johnson, in his mafque of Gipfils me amorphos'd; An and a fweet fongfter, and would have done rarely in a cae. a difh of water and hempfeed; fine breaft of his own! And Beaumont and Fletcher, in their Pilgrim; Pray you, ftay a little: Let's hear him fing, h'as a fine breaft when when thou fpok'ft of Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians paffing the equinoctial of Queubus 'twas very good, i' faith (6) I fent thee fix-pence for thy Leman, had't it? Clo. I did impetticos thy gratillity; for Malvolio's "nofe is no whip-ftock. My Lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houfes. Sir And. Excellent: why, this is the beft fooling, when all is done. Now, a fong.. Sir To. Come on, there's fix-pence for you. Let's have a fong. Sir And. There's a teftril of me too; if one Knight give a Clo. Would you have a love-fong, or a fong of good life? Sir To. A love-fong, a love-fong. Sir And. Ay, ay, I care not for good life. Clown fings. O Miftrefs mine, where are you roaming? Ev'ry wife man's fon doth know. Sir And. Excellent good, i' faith! Clo. What is love? 'tis not hereafter: Prefent mirth hath prefent laughter: (6) I fent thee fix-pence for thy Lemon, bad'ft it.] But the Clown was neither pantler, nor butler. The Poet's word was certainly miftaken by the ignorance of the Printers. I have restored, leman, i. e. I fent thee fix-pence to spend on thy mistress. So, in Merry Wives of Windfor; as jealous as Ford, that fearch'd a hollow wallnut for his wife's leman; 2 Henry IV. A cup of wine, that's brisk and fine, And drink unto the leman mine; The word was ufed indifferently, to fignify, either a mistress, or gallant; as the word, lover, stood for both fexes, What's to come, is ftill unfure; Then come kifs me, fweet, and twenty: Youth's a ftuff will not endure. 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? (7) Shall we rouze 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. (7) Shall we rouxe the night-owl in a catch, that it will draw three fouls out of one weaver?] i. e. by which he shall be thrice tranfported, or equally transported with every one of us three fingers. As for drawing out the foul, this is a phrafe, which, as it feems, our author delights to ufe, to exprefs the ravishing power of mufick. Much Ado about Nothing. Now is his foul ravish'd. Is it not ftrange that sheep's guts should bale fouls out of men's bodies, &c. But, perhaps, by mentioning three fouls, Sir Toby may be hinting at the peripatetic philosophy (the learning then in vogue,) which very liberally gave to every man three fouls, the vegitative or plaftic, the animal, and the rational. I would not imagine that Shakespeare had no further drift in this, than either to expofe that fyftem, or make a parade of his own knowledge. Thofe, who are converfant in him, can't but obferve, that he takes delight on all occafions to display the great power and force of mufick. And here, in the moft extraordi nary manner, he conveys to us the idea of that power in its full extent as we receive it from poetical relations. For in speaking of it's power, to draw the three fouls out of man, viz. the vegitative or plaftic, the fenfative or animal, and the rational or human, he would infinuate to us all those furprizing effects of mufick that the antients fpeak of, when they tell us of Amphion who mov'd ftones and trees; Orpheus and Arion, who tam'd the favages; and Timotheus, who go. vern'd as he pleas'd the paffions of his human auditors, by the irre fiftible force of harmony. So noble and extraordinary an ob fervation has our author cover'd under the ribaldry of a fantastick character, Mr. Warburton. Clo. Clo. Hold thy peace, thou knave, Knight. I fhall be conftrain'd in't, to call the knave, Knight. Sir And. 'Tis not the firft time I have constrain'd one to call me knave. Begin, fool; it begins, Hold tby peace. Clo. I fhall never begin, if I hold my peace. Enter Maria. [They fing a catch. 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 vally, 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, Enter Malvolio. [Singing. 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 alehoufe of my Lady's houfe, that ye fqueak out your coziers catches without any mitigation or remorse of voice? is there no refpect of place, perfons, nor time in you? Sir Ta. 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 the harbours you as her uncle, fhe's nothing ally'd to your diforders. If you can separate yourself and your misdemeanors, you are welcome to the house: if not, an it would please you to F 4 take |
