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TWELFTH-NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL.
Enter Olivia and Malvolio.
Re-enter Maria. Clo. Wit, an't be thy will, put me into good fool- Mar. Madam, there is at the gate a young gening! Those wits, that think they have thee, do very || teman, much desires to speak with
you. oft prove fools; and I, that am sure I lack thee, Oli. From the count Orsino, is it? may pass for a wise man: for what says Quinapa
Mar. I know not, madam; 'tis a fair young man, lus? Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit. God and well attended. bless thee, lady!
Oli. Who of my people hold him in delay? Oli. Take the fool away.
Mar. Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman. Clo. Do you not bear, fellows ? take away the Oli. Fetch him off, I pray you; he speaks nolady.
thing but madman: fie on him! (Exit Maria. Go Oli. Go to, you are a dry fool; I'll no more of you, Malvolio ; if it be a suit from the count, I am you: besides, you grow dishonest.
sick, or not at home; what you will, to dismiss it. Clo. Two faults, madonna,l that drink and good || [Exit Malvolio. Now you see, sir, how your foolcounsel will amend: for give the dry fool drink,ling grows old, and people dislike it. then is the fool not dry; bid the dishonest mend Clo. Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if eldest son should be a fool : whose skull Jove cram he cannot, let the botcher mend him: any thing, with brains, for here he comes, one of thy kin, has that's mended, is but patched: virtue, that trans- a most weak pia mater. 5 gresses, is but patched with sin; and sin, that amends, is but patched with virtue: if that this sim
Enter Sir Toby Belch. ple syllogism will serve, so; if it will not, what re- Oli. By mine honour, half drunk.—What is he medy? As there is no true cuckold but calamity, || at the gate, cousin ? so beauty's a flower :--the lady bade take away Sir To. A gentleman. the fool; therefore, I say again, take her away. Oli. A gentleman? What gentleman ? Oli. Sir, I bade them take away you.
Sir To. 'Tis a gentleman here-A plague o? Clo. Misprision in the highest degree !-Lady, these pickle-herrings !-How now, sot? Cucullus non facit monachum; that's as much as Clo. Good sir Toby, to say, I wear not motley in my brain. Good ma- Oli. Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early donna, give me leave to prove you a fool. by this lethargy? Oli. Can you do it?
Sir To. Lechery! I defy lechery: there's one Clo. Dexterously, good madonna.
at the gate. Oli. Make your proof.
Oli. Ay, marry; what is he? Clo. I must catechize you for it, madonna ; good Sir To. Let him be the devil, an he will, I care my mouse of virtue, answer me.
not: give me faith, say I. Well, it's all one. 'Oli. Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I'll
[Erit. 'bide your proof.
Oli. What's a drunken man like, fool?
man: one draught above heat makes him a fool; Clo. I think, his soul is in hell, madonna.
the second mads him; and a third drowns him. Oli. I know his soul is in heaven, fool.
Oli. Go thou and seek the coroner, and let him Clo. The more fool you, madonna, to mourn for sit o' my coz; for he's in the third degree of drink, your brother's soul being in heaven.-- Take away he's drown'd: go, look after him. the fool, gentlemen.
Clo. He is but mad yet, madonna ; and the fool
Mal. Madam, yond young fellow swears he will Clo. God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for speak with you. I told him you were sick; he takes the better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will be on bim to understand so much, and therefore comes sworn, that I am no fox; but he will not pass his to speak with you : I told him you were asleep; he word for two-pence that you are no fool. secms to have a fore-knowledge of that too, and Oli. How say you to that, Malvolio?
therefore comes to speak with you. What is to be Mal. I marvel your ladyship takes delight in said to him, lady? he's fortified against any denial. such a barren rascal: I saw him put down the Oli. Tell him, he shall not speak with me. other day with an ordinary fool, that has no more Mal. He has been told so: and he says, he'll brain than a stone. Look you now, he's out of his stand at your door like a sheriff's post, and be the guard already: unless you laugh and minister och supporter of a bench, but he'll speak with you. casion to hijn, he is gagved. I protest, I take these Oli. What kind of man is he? wise men, that crow so at these set kind of fools, no Mal. Why, of man kind. better than the fools' zanies. 2
Oli. What manner of man? Oli. O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and Mal. Of very ill manner : he'll speak with you, taste with a distempered appetite. To be generous, will you, or no. guiltless, and of free disposition, is to take those oli. Of what personage, and years, he? things for bird-bolts,3 that you deem cannon-bul- Mal. Not yet old enough for a man, nor young lets: there is no slander in an allowed fool, though enough for a boy ; as a squash is before 'tis a peas. he do nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known cod, or a codling when 'lis almost an apple: 'tis discreet man, though he do nothing but reprove. with bim e'en standing water, between boy and
Clo. Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, 4 for man. He is very well-favoured, and he speaks thou speakest well of fools !
very shrewishly; one would think, his mother's
milk were scarce out of him. (1) Italian, mistress, dame. (2) Fools' baubles. (3) Short arrows. (4) Lying
(5) The cover of the brain.
Oli. Let him approach : call in my gentlewoman. Oli. A comfortable doctrine, and much may be
Vio. In Orsino's bosom.
Oli. In his bosom? In what chapter of his bosom? Oli. Give me my veil : come, throw it o'er my || his heart.
Vio. To answer by the method, in the first of face;
Oli. O, I have read it; it is heresy. Have you We'll once more hear Orsino's embassy.
no more to say ?
Vio. Good madam, let me see your face.
Oli. Have you any commission from your lord to Vio. The honourable lady of the house, which negociate with my face? you are now out of your is she?
text: but we will draw the curtain, and show you Oli. Speak to me, I shall answer for her. Your the picture. Look you, sir, such a one as I was will ?
this present :3 is't not well done?
(Unveiling. Vio. Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable Vio. Excellently done, if God did all. beauty, I pray you, tell me, if this be the lady of Oli. 'Tis in grain, sir ; 'twill endure wind and the house, for I never saw her: I would be loath to weather. cast away my speech; for, besides that it is excel- Vio. 'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and lently well penn'd, I have taken great pains to con
white it. Good beauties, let me sustain no scorn; I am Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on: very comptible,' even to the least sinister usage. Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive, Oli. Whence came you, sir?
If you will lead these graces to the grave, Vio. I can say little more than I have studied,|| And leave the world no copy. and that question's out of my part. Good gentle Oli. O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will one, give me modest assurance, if you be the lady || give out divers schedules of my beauty : it shall be of the house, that I may proceed in my speech. inventoried; and every particle, and utensil, laOli. Are you a comedian?
belled to my will: as, item, two lips indifferent red; Vio. No, my profound heart: and yet, by the item, two grey eyes, with lids to them; item, one very fangs of malice, I swear, I am not that I play. || neck, one chin, and so forth. Were you sent Are you the lady of the house?
hither to 'praise me? oli. If I do not usurp myself, I am.
Vio. I see you what you are : you are too proud; Vio. Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp But, if you were the devil, you are fair. yourself; for what is yours to bestow, is not yours My lord and master loves you; 0, such love to reserve. But this is from my commission: will|Could be but recompens’d, though you were on with my speech in your praise, and then show
crown'd you the heart of my message.
The nonpareil of beauty ! Oli. Come to what is important in't: I forgive Oli.
How does he love me? you the praise.
Vio. With ions, with fertile tears, Vio. Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire. poetical.
Oli. Your lord does know my mind, I cannot Oli. It is the more like to be feigned ; I pray you
love him : keep it in. I heard, you were saucy at my gates : || Yet I suppose him virtuons, know him noble, and allowed your approach, rather to wonder at you of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth; than to bear you. If you be not mad, be gone; if In voices well divulg’d,5 free, learn'd'and valiant, you have reason, be brief: 'tis not that time of|| And, in dimension, and the shape of nature, moon with me, to make one in so skipping a dia- A gracious person : but yet I cannot love him; logue.
He might have took his answer long ago. Mar. Will you hoist sail, sir? here lies your way. Vio. If I did love you in my master's flame,
Vio. No, good swabber: I am to hull here a lit-With such a suffering, such a deadly life, tle longer. Some mollification for your giant,2 || In your denial I would find no sense, sweet lady.
I would not understand it. Oli. Tell me your mind.
Why, what would you ! Vio. I am a messenger.
Vio. Make me a willow cabin at your gate, Oli. Sure, you have some hideous matter to de- | And call upon my soul within the house ; liver, when the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speah | Write loyal cantons of contemned love, your office.
And sing them loud even in the dead of night; Vio. It alone concerns your ear. I bring no Holla your name to the reverberate bills, cverture of war, no taxation of homage; I hold the And make the babbling gossip of the air olive in my hand : my words are as full of peace | Cry out, Olivia! O, you should not rest as matter.
Between the elements of air and earth, Oli. Yet you began rudely. What are you? || But you should pity me. what would you ?
oli. You might do much: What is your parentVio. The rudeness, that hath appear'd in me,
age? have I learn'd from my entertainment. What I am, Vio. Above my fortunes, yet my state is well : and what I would, are as secret as maidenhead: to|I am a gentleman. your ears, divinity ; to any other's, profanation. Oli.
Get you to your lord ; Ol. Give us the place alone : we will hear this|| I cannot love him: let him send no more ; divinity. (Erit Maria.) Now; sir, what is your text? | Unless, perchance, you come to me again, Vio. Most sweet lady,
To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well : (1) Accountable.
(3) Presents. (4) Blended, mixed together. (2) It appears from several parts of this play, (5) Well spoken of by the world. that the original actress of Maria was very short. (6) Cantos, verses.
I thank you for your pains : spend this for me. not but call fair : she is drowned already, sir, with
Vio. I am no fee'd post," lady; keep your purse ; || salt water, though I seem to drown her remem-
Seb. O, good Antonio, forgive me your trouble.
me be your servant. Above my fortunes, yet my state is well :
Seb. "If you will not undo what you have done, I am a gentleman. -I'll be sworn thou art; that is, kill him whom you have recovered, desire Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit, it not. Fare ye well at once: my bosom is full of Do give thee five-fold blazon :2-Not too fast:- | kindness ; and I am yet so near the manners of my soft! soft!
mother, that upon the least occasion more, mine Unless the master were the man.-How now? eyes will tell tales of me. I am bound to the Even so quickly may one catch the plague ? count Orsino's court : farewell.
(Exit. Methinks, I feel this youth's perfections,
Ant. The gentleness of all the gods go with thee! With an invisible and subtle stealth,
I have many enemies in Orsino's court,
But, come what may, I do adore thee so,
That danger shall seem sport, and I will go. (Exit. Mal.
Here, madam, at your service. | SCENE II.-A street. Enter Viola ; Malvolio Oli. Run after that same peevish messenger,
following: The county's: man: he left this ring behind him, Would I, or not: tell him, I'll none of it.
Mal. Were not you even now with the countess
Olivia ? Desire him not to flatter, with his lord,
Vio. Even now, sir; on a moderate pace I have Nor hold him up with hopes ; I am not for him : If that the youth will come this way to-morrow,
since arrived but hither.
Mal. She returns this ring to you, sir ; you might I'll give him reasons for't. Hie thee, Malvolio. Mal. Madam, I will.
have saved me my pains, to have taken it away (Exit.
yourself. She adds moreover, Oli. I do I know not what: and fear to find
that you should put Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind.
your lord into a desperate assurance she will none Fate, show thy force : ourselves we do not owe ;4
of him: and one thing more; that you be never What is decreed, must be ; and be this so! (Exit. || report your lord's taking of this. Receive it so.
so hardy to come again in his affairs, unless it be to
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 so returned: if it be ACT II.
worth stooping for, there it lies in your eye; if not,
be it his that finds it. SCENE I.-The sea-coast. Enter Antonio and
(Erit. Vio. I left no ring with her: what means this lady? Sebastian.
Fortune forbid, my outside have not charm'd her! Ant. Will you stay no longer ? nor will you not, || She made good view of me; indeed, so much, that I go with you?
That, sure, methought, her eyes had lost ber Seb. By your patience, no : my stars shine dark
tongue, ly over me; the malignancy of my fate might,|| For she did speak in starts distractedly. perhaps, distemper yours ; therefore I shall crave She loves me, sure; the cunning of her passion of you your leave, that I may bear my evils alone : || Invites me in this churlish messenger. it were a bad recompense for your love, to lay any | None of my lord's ring! why, he sent her none. of them on you.
I am the man ;-if it be so (as 'tis,) Ant. Let me yet know of you, whither you are Poor lady, she were better love a dream. bound.
Disguise, I see, thou art a wickedness, Seb. No, 'sooth, sir ; my determinate voyage is Wherein the pregnant enemy does much. mere extravagancy. But I perceive in you so ex-How easy is it, for the proper-false? cellent a touch of modesty, that you will not extortIn women's waxen hearts to set their forms ! from me what I am willing to keep in ; therefore Alas! our frailty is the cause, not we; it charges me in manners the rather to express For, such as we are made of, such we be. myself. You must know of me then, Antonio, my| How will this fadge 8 My master loves her dearly; name is Sebastian, which I called Rodorigo; my | And I, poor monster, fond as much on him; father was that Sebastian of Messaline, whom 1 | And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me : know, you have heard of : be left behind him, || What will become of this! As I am man, myself, and a sister, both born in an hour. If the My state is desperate for my master's love; heavens had been pleased, 'would we had so As I am woman, now alas the day! ended! but you, sir, altered that; for, some hour What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe ? before you took me from the breach of the sea, was O time, thou must untangle this, not I; my sister drowned.
It is too hard a knot for me to untie. (Exit. Ant. Alas, the day !
Seb. A lady, sir, though it was said she much| SCENE III. A room in Olivia's house. resembled me, was yet of many accounted beauti
Sir Toby Belch, and Sir Andrew Ague-cheek. ful: but, though I could not, with such estimable Sir To. Approach, sir Andrew : not to be a-bed wonder, overfar believe that, yet thus far I will after midnight, is to be up betimes; and diluculo boldly publish her, she bore a mind that envy could surgere, thou know'st,—
(1) Messenger. (2) Proclamation of gentility. (6) Dexterous, ready fiend.
Sir And. Nay, by my troth, I know not: but I || Sir And. Most certain : let our catch be, Thors know, to be up late, is to be uplate.
knave. Sir To. A false conclusion; I hate it as an un- Clo. Hold thy peace, thou knave, knight? I filled can: to be up after midnight, and to go to shall be constrain'd in't to call thee knave, knight. bed then, is early ; so that, to go to bed after mid- Sir And, 'Tis not the first time I have constrain'd night, is to go to bed betimes. Do not our lives one to call me knave. Begin, fool ; it begins, consist of the four elements ?
Hold thy peace. Sir And. 'Faith, so they say ; but, I think, it Clo. I shall never begin, if I hold my peace. rather consists of eating and drinking.
Sir And. Good, i'faith! Come, begin. Sir To. Thou art a scholar; let us therefore eat
(They sing a catch. and drink.-Maria, I say ! a stoop of wine !
Mar. What a catterwauling do you keep here! Sir And. Here comes the fool, i'faith.
If my lady have not called up her steward, MalvoClo. How now, my hearts? Did you never see lio, and bid him turn you out of doors, never trust the picture of we three ?1 Sir To. Welcome, ass. Now let's have a catch.
Sir To. My lady's a Cataian, we are politicians ; Sir And. By my troth, the fool has an excellent Malvolio's a Peg-a-Ramsey, and Three merry men breast.? I had rather than forty shillings I had such || we be. Am not I consanguineous ? am I not of her a leg; and so sweet a breath to sing, as the foolblood ? Tilly-valley, lady! There dwelt a man in has. In sooth, ou wast in very gracious fooling Babylon, lady, lady?
(Singing. last night, when thou spokest of Pigrogromitus, of Cio. Beshrew me, the knight's in admirable the Vapians passing the equinoctial of Queubus ; || fooling. 'twas very good, i'faith. I sent thee sixpence for
Sir And. Ay, he does well enough, if he be disthy leman :3 hadst it? Clo . I did impeticos thy gratillity ;t for Malvo- | posed, and so do I too; he does it with a better
grace, but I do it more natural. lio's nose is no whipstock : my lady has a white
Sir To. O, the twelfth day of December,band, and the myrmidons are no boitle-ale houses.
(Singing. Sir And. Excellent! Why, this is the best fool- Mar. For the love of God, peace. ing, when all is done. Now, a song. Sir To. Come on; there is sixpence for you:
Enter Malvolio. let's have a song.
Sir And. There's a testril of me too: if one Mal. My masters, are you mad? or what are knight give a —
you? Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty, but Co. Would you have a love-song, or a song of to gabble like tinkers at this time of night?' Do
ye make an alehouse of my lady's house, that ye Sir To. A love-song, a love-song.
squeak out your coziers' catches without any mitiSir And. Ay, ay;
gation or remorse of voice? Is there no respect of
place, persons, nor time, in you? SONG.
Sir To. We did keep time, sir, in our catches. Clo. O mistress mine, where are you roaming ?
110 O, stay and hear; your true love's coming, lady bade me tell you, that, though she harbours
Mal. Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My That can sing both high and low : Trip no further, pretty sweeting;
you as her kinsman, she's nothing allied to your disJourneys end in lovers' meeting,
orders. If you can separate yourself and your misEvery wise man's son doth know. demeanors, you are welcome to the house ; if not, Sir And. Excellent good, i'faith.
an it would please you to take leave of her, she is Sir To. Good, good.
very willing to bid you farewell.
Sir To. Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs
Mar. Nay, good sir Toby.
Clo. His eyes do show his days are almost done. In delay there lies no plenty ;
Mal. Is't even so ?
Sir To. But I will never die.
Clo. Sir Toby, there you lie.
Mal. This is much credit to you.
Sir To. Shall I bid him go.? knight
(Singing. Sir To. A contagious breath.
Clo. What an if you do? Sir And. Very sweet and contagious, i'faith.
Sir To. Shall I bid him go, and spare not? Sir To. To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in con
Clo. O no, no, no, no, you dare not. tagion. But shall we make the welkin dances in-| than a steward? Dost thou think, because thou
Sir To. Out o time? sir, ye lie.-Art any more deed? Shall we rouse the night-owl in a catch, that will draw three souls out of one weaver ? shali || art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale ? we do that?
Clo. Yes, by Saint Anne ; and ginger shall be
hot i' the mouth too. Sir And. An you love me, let's do't: I am dog
Sir To. Thou'rt i' the right. --Go, sir, rub at a catch Clo. By'r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch
chain!! with crums :-a stoop of wine, Maria! well.
Mal. Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady's fa
vour at any thing more than contempt, you would (1) Loggerheads be. (2) Voice. (3) Mistress. (4) I did impetticoat thy gratuity.
(8) Equivalent to filly fally, shilly shally. (5) Drink till the sky turns round.
(9) Cobblers. (10) Hang yourself. Romancer. Name of an old song.
(11) Stewards anciently wore a chain.
row, friends :
not give means for this uncivil rule ;' she shall Sir To. Send for money, knight; if thou hast know of it, by this hand.
[Exit. || her not i' the end, call me Cut.? Mar. Go shake your ears.
Sir And. If I do not, never trust me, take it how Sir And. 'Twere as good a deed as to drink || you will. when a man's a hungry, to challenge him to the Sir To. Come, come; I'll go burn some sack, field; and then to break promise with him, and 'tis too late to go to bed now: come, knight; come, make a fool of him.
(Exeunt. Sir To. Do't, knight; I'll write thee a challenge ; or I'll deliver thy indignation to him by SCENE IV: -A room in the Duke's palace. word of mouth.
Enter Duke, Viola, Curio, and others. Mar. Sweet sir Toby, be patient for to-night; Duke. Give me some music: Now, good mor. since the youth of the count's was to-day with
my lady, she is much out of quiet. For monsieur Mal. Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song, volio, let me alone with him: if I do not gull him That old and antique song we heard last night; into a nay-word, and make him a common recrea- Methought, it did relieve my passion much; tion, do not think I have wit enough to lie straight More than light airs and recollected terms, in my bed: I know I can do it.
Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times :• Sir To. Possess us,3 possess us ; tell us some-Come, but one verse. thing of him.
Cur. He is not here, so please your lordship, Mar. Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of Pu- | that should sing it. ritan.
Duke. Who was it? Sir And. O, if I thought that, I'd beat him like Cur. Feste, the jester, my lord ; a fool, that the a dog.
lady Olivia's father took much delight in : he is Sir To. What, for being a Puritan? thy exqui- || about the house. site reason, dear knight?
Duke. Seek him out, and play the tune the while. Sir And. I have no exquisite reason forêt, but I
Exit Curio.-Music. have reason good enough.
Come hither, boy ; If ever thou shalt love, Mar. The devil a Puritan that he is, or any thing || In the sweet pangs of it remember me : constantly but a time-pleaser ; an affectionedi ass, For, such as I am, all true lovers are; that cons state without book, and utiers it by great Unstaid and skittish in all motions else, swarths :5 the best persuaded of himself, so cram-Save, in the constant image of the creature med, as he thinks, with excellencies, that it is bis | That is belov'd. -How dost thou like this tune? ground of faith, that all that look on him, love him; Vio. It gives a very echo to the seat and on that vice in him will my revenge find nota-|| Where love is thron'd. ble cause to work.
Duke. Thou dost speak masterly : Sir To. What wilt thou do?
My life upon't, young though thou art, thine eye Mar. I will drop in his way some obscure epis- || Hath stay'd upon some favours that it loves ; tles of love; wherein, by the colour of his beard, || Hath it not, boy? the shape of his leg, the manner of his gait, the ex- Vio
A little, by your favour. pressure of bis eye, forehead, and complexion, he Duke. What kind of woman is't? shall find himself inost feelingly personated : I can Vio
Of your complexion. write very like my lady, your niece ; on a forgotten Duke. She is not worth thee then. What years, matter we can hardly make distinction of our hands.
i'faith? Sir To. Excellent! I sinell a device.
Vio. About your years, my lord. Sir And. I hav't in my nose too.
Duke. Too old, by heaven ; Let still the woman Sir To. He shall think, by the letters that thou
take wilt drop, that they come from my niece, and that | An elder than herself; so wears she to him, she is in love with him.
So sways she level in her husband's heart, Mar. My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that|For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, colour.
Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, Sir And. And your horse now would make him More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn,
Than women's are. Mar. Ass, I doubt not.
I think it well, my lord. Sir And. O, 'twill be admirable.
Duke. Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Mar. Sport royal, I warrant you : I know, my Or thy affection cannot hold the bent : physic will work with him. I will plant you two, For women are as roses; whose fair flower, and let the fool make a third, where he shall find | Being once display'd, doth fall that very hour. the letter ; observe his construction of it. For this Vio. And so they are: alas, that they are so; night, to bed, and dream on the event. Farewell. || To die, even when they to perfection grow!
(Exit. Sir To. Good night, Penthesilea,
Re-enter Curio, and Clown. Sir And. Before me, she's a good wench. Duke. O fellow, come, the song we had last Sir To. She's a beagle, true-bred, and one that night :adores me; What o' that?
Mark it, Cesario; it is old and plain : Sir And. I was adored once too.
The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, Sir To. Let's to bed, knight.— Thou hadst need || And the free maids, that weave their thread with send for more money.
bones, Sir And. If I cannot recover your niece, I am a Do use to chaunt it; it is silly sooth, 10 foul way out.
And dallies with the innocence of love,
Like the old age. 11 (1) Method of life. (2) By-word. (3) Inform us. (6) Amazon. (7) Horse. (8) Countenance. (4) Affected.
(9) Lace makers. (10) Simple truth. (5) The row of grass left by a mower.
(11) Times of simplicity.