Fly not; for shouldst thou take the river Styx,


Hold thy whore, Grecian!--now for thy whore,


Trojan!--now the sleeve, now the sleeve!


What art thou, Greek? art thou for Hectors match?


No, no, I am a rascal; a scurvy railing knave:


God-a-mercy, that thou wilt believe me; but a


plague break thy neck for frightening me! Whats


become of the wenching rogues? I think they have


swallowed one another: I would laugh at that


miracle: yet, in a sort, lechery eats itself.


Go, go, my servant, take thou Troilus horse;


Present the fair steed to my lady Cressid:


Fellow, commend my service to her beauty;


Tell her I have chastised the amorous Trojan,


Hath beat down Menon: bastard Margarelon


And stands colossus-wise, waving his beam,


Epistrophus and Cedius: Polyxenes is slain,


Sore hurt and bruised: the dreadful Sagittary


And bid the snail-paced Ajax arm for shame.


There is a thousand Hectors in the field:


Now here he fights on Galathe his horse,


And there lacks work; anon hes there afoot,


And there they fly or die, like scaled sculls


Before the belching whale; then is he yonder,


And there the strawy Greeks, ripe for his edge,


Fall down before him, like the mowers swath:


Here, there, and every where, he leaves and takes,


That what he will he does, and does so much


O, courage, courage, princes! great Achilles


Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing vengeance:


Patroclus wounds have roused his drowsy blood,


That noseless, handless, hackd and chippd, come to him,


Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend


And foams at mouth, and he is armd and at it,


Roaring for Troilus, who hath done to-day


With such a careless force and forceless care


As if that luck, in very spite of cunning,


Come, come, thou boy-queller, show thy face;


Hector? wheres Hector? I will none but Hector.


Troilus, thou coward Troilus, show thy head!


Were I the general, thou shouldst have my office


Ere that correction. Troilus, I say! what, Troilus!


O traitor Diomed! turn thy false face, thou traitor,


And pay thy life thou owest me for my horse!


Ill fight with him alone: stand, Diomed.


Come, both you cogging Greeks; have at you both!


Yea, Troilus? O, well fought, my youngest brother!


Now do I see thee, ha! have at thee, Hector!


I do disdain thy courtesy, proud Trojan:


My rest and negligence befriends thee now,


I would have been much more a fresher man,


Had I expected thee. How now, my brother!


No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven,


He shall not carry him: Ill be taen too,


Or bring him off: fate, hear me what I say!


Stand, stand, thou Greek; thou art a goodly mark:


No? wilt thou not? I like thy armour well;


Why, then fly on, Ill hunt thee for thy hide.


Mark what I say. Attend me where I wheel:


Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in breath:


And when I have the bloody Hector found,


Empale him with your weapons round about;


Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye:


It is decreed Hector the great must die.


Enter MENELAUS and PARIS, fighting: then THERSITES


The cuckold and the cuckold-maker are at it. Now,


bull! now, dog! Loo, Paris, loo! now my double-


henned sparrow! loo, Paris, loo! The bull has the


I am a bastard too; I love bastards: I am a bastard


begot, bastard instructed, bastard in mind, bastard


in valour, in every thing illegitimate. One bear will


not bite another, and wherefore should one bastard?


Take heed, the quarrels most ominous to us: if the


son of a whore fight for a whore, he tempts judgment:


Thy goodly armour thus hath cost thy life.


Now is my days work done; Ill take good breath:


Rest, sword; thou hast thy fill of blood and death.


Puts off his helmet and hangs his shield behind him


Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set;


How ugly night comes breathing at his heels:


Even with the vail and darking of the sun,


To close the day up, Hectors life is done.


I am unarmd; forego this vantage, Greek.


Strike, fellows, strike; this is the man I seek.


So, Ilion, fall thou next! now, Troy, sink down!


Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone.


The Trojan trumpets sound the like, my lord.


The dragon wing of night oerspreads the earth,


And, stickler-like, the armies separates.


My half-suppd sword, that frankly would have fed,


Pleased with this dainty bait, thus goes to bed.


Along the field I will the Trojan trail.


Enter AGAMEMNON, AJAX, MENELAUS, NESTOR, DIOMEDES, and others, marching. Shouts within


Achilles! Achilles! Hectors slain! Achilles.


The bruit is, Hectors slain, and by Achilles.


If in his death the gods have us befriended,


Great Troy is ours, and our sharp wars are ended.


Stand, ho! yet are we masters of the field:


Never go home; here starve we out the night.


Hes dead; and at the murderers horses tail,


In beastly sort, draggd through the shameful field.


Frown on, you heavens, effect your rage with speed!


Sit, gods, upon your thrones, and smile at Troy!


I say, at once let your brief plagues be mercy,


And linger not our sure destructions on!


My lord, you do discomfort all the host!


I do not speak of flight, of fear, of death,


But dare all imminence that gods and men


Address their dangers in. Hector is gone:


Let him that will a screech-owl aye be calld,


Go in to Troy, and say there, Hectors dead:


There is a word will Priam turn to stone;


Make wells and Niobes of the maids and wives,


Cold statues of the youth, and, in a word,


Scare Troy out of itself. But, march away:


Hector is dead; there is no more to say.


Thus proudly pight upon our Phrygian plains,


Ill through and through you! and, thou great-sized coward,


No space of earth shall sunder our two hates:


Ill haunt thee like a wicked conscience still,


That mouldeth goblins swift as frenzys thoughts.


Strike a free march to Troy! with comfort go:


Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe.


As TROILUS is going out, enter, from the other side, PANDARUS


Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name!


A goodly medicine for my aching bones! O world!


world! world! thus is the poor agent despised!


O traitors and bawds, how earnestly are you set


a-work, and how ill requited! why should our


endeavour be so loved and the performance so loathed?


what verse for it? what instance for it? Let me see:


Till he hath lost his honey and his sting;


Sweet honey and sweet notes together fail.


Good traders in the flesh, set this in your


Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandars fall;


Or if you cannot weep, yet give some groans,


Though not for me, yet for your aching bones.


Brethren and sisters of the hold-door trade,


Some two months hence my will shall here be made:


It should be now, but that my fear is this,


Some galled goose of Winchester would hiss:


Till then Ill sweat and seek about for eases,


And at that time bequeathe you my diseases.


Enter DUKE ORSINO, CURIO, and other Lords; Musicians attending


O, it came oer my ear like the sweet sound,


Stealing and giving odour! Enough; no more:


O spirit of love! how quick and fresh art thou,


Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,


Even in a minute: so full of shapes is fancy


Methought she purged the air of pestilence!


And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,


So please my lord, I might not be admitted;


But from her handmaid do return this answer:


The element itself, till seven years heat,


Shall not behold her face at ample view;


But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk


With eye-offending brine: all this to season


A brothers dead love, which she would keep fresh


O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame


To pay this debt of love but to a brother,


How will she love, when the rich golden shaft


Hath killd the flock of all affections else


That live in her; when liver, brain and heart,


These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and filld


Her sweet perfections with one self king!


Away before me to sweet beds of flowers:


Love-thoughts lie rich when canopied with bowers.


Perchance he is not drownd: what think you, sailors?


It is perchance that you yourself were saved.


O my poor brother! and so perchance may he be.


True, madam: and, to comfort you with chance,


Assure yourself, after our ship did split,


When you and those poor number saved with you


Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother,


Courage and hope both teaching him the practise,


To a strong mast that lived upon the sea;


I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves


Whereto thy speech serves for authority,


The like of him. Knowst thou this country?


Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and born


Not three hours travel from this very place.


Orsino! I have heard my father name him:


And then twas fresh in murmur,--as, you know,


What great ones do the less will prattle of,--


That he did seek the love of fair Olivia.


A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count


That died some twelvemonth since, then leaving her


In the protection of his son, her brother,


Who shortly also died: for whose dear love,


And might not be delivered to the world,


Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,


There is a fair behavior in thee, captain;


And though that nature with a beauteous wall


Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee


I will believe thou hast a mind that suits


With this thy fair and outward character.


I prithee, and Ill pay thee bounteously,


The form of my intent. Ill serve this duke:


Thou shall present me as an eunuch to him:


It may be worth thy pains; for I can sing


That will allow me very worth his service.


What else may hap to time I will commit;


Be you his eunuch, and your mute Ill be:


When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see.


What a plague means my niece, to take the death of


her brother thus? I am sure cares an enemy to life.


By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier o


nights: your cousin, my lady, takes great


Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest


Confine! Ill 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


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.


Why, he has three thousand ducats a year.


Ay, but hell have but a year in all these ducats:


viol-de-gamboys, and speaks three or four languages


word for word without book, and hath all the good


He hath indeed, almost natural: for besides that


hes a fool, hes a great quarreller: and but that


he hath the 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.


By this hand, they are scoundrels and subtractors


They that add, moreover, hes drunk nightly in your company.


With drinking healths to my niece: Ill drink to


her as long as there is a passage in my throat and


drink in Illyria: hes a coward and a coystrill


that will not drink to my niece till his brains turn


o the toe like a parish-top. What, wench!


Castiliano vulgo! for here comes Sir Andrew Agueface.


Sir Toby Belch! how now, Sir Toby Belch!


Good Mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance.


You mistake, knight; accost is front her, board


By my troth, I would not undertake her in this


An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, would thou mightst


An you part so, mistress, I would I might never


draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think you have


Marry, but you shall have; and heres my hand.


Now, sir, thought is free: I pray you, bring


your hand to the buttery-bar and let it drink.


Wherefore, sweet-heart? whats your metaphor?


Why, I think so: I am not such an ass but I can


Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers ends: marry,


O knight thou lackest a cup of canary: when did I


Never in your life, I think; unless you see canary


put me down. Methinks sometimes 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.


An I thought that, Ild forswear it. Ill ride home


What is Pourquoi? 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


Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair.


Past question; for thou seest it will not curl by nature.


But it becomes me well enough, doest not?


Excellent; it hangs like flax on a distaff; and I


hope to see a housewife take thee between her legs


Faith, Ill home to-morrow, Sir Toby: your niece


will not be seen; or if she be, its four to one


shell none of me: the count himself here hard by woos her.


Shell none o the count: shell not match above


her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; I


have heard her sweart. Tut, theres life int,


Ill stay a month longer. I am a fellow o the


strangest mind i the world; I delight in masques


Art thou good at these kickshawses, knight?


As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be, under the


degree of my betters; and yet I will not compare


What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight?


And I think I have the back-trick simply as strong


Wherefore are these things hid? wherefore have


these gifts a curtain before em? are they like to


take dust, like Mistress Malls picture? why dost


thou not go to church in a galliard and come home in


a coranto? My very walk should be a jig; I would not


so much as make water but in a sink-a-pace. What


dost thou mean? Is it a world to hide virtues in?


I did think, by the excellent constitution of thy


leg, it was formed under the star of a galliard.


Ay, tis strong, and it does indifferent well in a


flame-coloured stock. Shall we set about some revels?


What shall we do else? were we not born under Taurus?


No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let me see the


Enter VALENTINE and VIOLA in mans attire


If the duke continue these favours towards you,


Cesario, you are like to be much advanced: he hath


known you but three days, and already you are no stranger.


You either fear his humour or my negligence, that


you call in question the continuance of his love:


Enter DUKE ORSINO, CURIO, and Attendants


Thou knowst no less but all; I have unclaspd


To thee the book even of my secret soul:


Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her;


Be not denied access, stand at her doors,


And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow


As it is spoke, she never will admit me.


Say I do speak with her, my lord, what then?


Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith:


It shall become thee well to act my woes;


For they shall yet belie thy happy years,


Is not more smooth and rubious; thy small pipe


Is as the maidens organ, shrill and sound,


For this affair. Some four or five attend him;


When least in company. Prosper well in this,


And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord,


Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will


not open my lips so wide as a bristle may enter in


way of thy excuse: my lady will hang thee for thy absence.


Let her hang me: he that is well hanged in this


A good lenten answer: I can tell thee where that


In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in your foolery.


Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those


that are fools, let them use their talents.


Yet you will be hanged for being so long absent; or,


to be turned away, is not that as good as a hanging to you?


Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage; and,


for turning away, let summer bear it out.


Not so, neither; but I am resolved on two points.


That if one break, the other will hold; or, if both


Apt, in good faith; very apt. Well, go thy way; if


Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a


Peace, you rogue, no more o that. Here comes my


lady: make your excuse wisely, you were best.


Wit, ant be thy will, put me into good fooling!


Those wits, that think they have thee, do very oft


prove fools; and I, that am sure I lack thee, may


pass for a wise man: for what says Quinapalus?


Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit.


Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady.


Go to, youre a dry fool; Ill no more of you:


Two faults, madonna, that drink and good counsel


will amend: for give the dry fool drink, then is


the fool not dry: bid the dishonest man mend


himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if


he cannot, let the botcher mend him. Any thing


thats mended is but patched: virtue that


transgresses is but patched with sin; and sin that


amends is but patched with virtue. If that this


simple syllogism will serve, so; if it will not,


what remedy? As there is no true cuckold but


calamity, so beautys a flower. The lady bade take


away the fool; therefore, I say again, take her away.


Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, cucullus non


facit monachum; thats as much to say as I wear not


motley in my brain. Good madonna, give me leave to


I must catechise you for it, madonna: good my mouse


Well, sir, for want of other idleness, Ill bide your proof.


The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your brothers


soul being in heaven. Take away the fool, gentlemen.


What think you of this fool, Malvolio? doth he not mend?


Yes, and shall do till the pangs of death shake him:


infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever make the


God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the


better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will be


sworn that I am no fox; but he will not pass his


word for two pence that you are no fool.


I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such a


barren rascal: I saw him put down the other day


with an ordinary fool that has no more brain


than a stone. Look you now, hes out of his guard


already; unless you laugh and minister occasion to


him, he is gagged. I protest, I take these wise men,


that crow so at these set kind of fools, no better


Oh, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste


with a distempered appetite. To be generous,


guiltless and of free disposition, is to take those


things for bird-bolts that you deem cannon-bullets:


there is no slander in an allowed fool, though he do


nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known discreet


Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for thou


Madam, there is at the gate a young gentleman much


I know not, madam: tis a fair young man, and well attended.


Fetch him off, I pray you; he speaks nothing but


Go you, Malvolio: if it be a suit from the count, I


am sick, or not at home; what you will, to dismiss it.


Now you see, sir, how your fooling grows old, and


Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy eldest


son should be a fool; whose skull Jove cram with


brains! for,--here he comes,--one of thy kin has a


By mine honour, half drunk. What is he at the gate, cousin?


Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by this lethargy?


Lechery! I defy lechery. Theres one at the gate.


Let him be the devil, an he will, I care not: give


Like a drowned man, a fool and a mad man: one


draught above heat makes him a fool; the second mads


Go thou and seek the crowner, and let him sit o my


coz; for hes in the third degree of drink, hes


He is but mad yet, madonna; and the fool shall look


Madam, yond young fellow swears he will speak with


you. I told him you were sick; he takes on him to


understand so much, and therefore comes to speak


with you. I told him you were asleep; he seems to


have a foreknowledge of that too, and therefore


comes to speak with you. What is to be said to him,


Has been told so; and he says, hell stand at your


door like a sheriffs post, and be the supporter to


Of very ill manner; hell speak with you, will you or no.


Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough for


a boy; as a squash is before tis a peascod, or a


cooling when tis almost an apple: tis with him


in standing water, between boy and man. He is very


well-favoured and he speaks very shrewishly; one


would think his mothers milk were scarce out of him.


Let him approach: call in my gentlewoman.


Give me my veil: come, throw it oer my face.


The honourable lady of the house, which is she?


Most radiant, exquisite and unmatchable beauty,--I


pray you, tell me if this be the lady of the house,


for I never saw her: I would be loath to cast away


my speech, for besides that it is excellently well


penned, I have taken great pains to con it. Good


beauties, let me sustain no scorn; I am very


comptible, even to the least sinister usage.


I can say little more than I have studied, and that


questions out of my part. Good gentle one, give me


modest assurance if you be the lady of the house,


No, my profound heart: and yet, by the very fangs


of malice I swear, I am not that I play. Are you


Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp


yourself; for what is yours to bestow is not yours


to reserve. But this is from my commission: I will


on with my speech in your praise, and then show you


Come to what is important int: I forgive you the praise.


Alas, I took great pains to study it, and tis poetical.


It is the more like to be feigned: I pray you,


keep it in. I heard you were saucy at my gates,


and allowed your approach rather to wonder at you


than to hear you. If you be not mad, be gone; if


you have reason, be brief: tis not that time of


moon with me to make one in so skipping a dialogue.


Will you hoist sail, sir? here lies your way.


No, good swabber; I am to hull here a little


longer. Some mollification for your giant, sweet


lady. Tell me your mind: I am a messenger.


Sure, you have some hideous matter to deliver, when


the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak your office.


It alone concerns your ear. I bring no overture of


war, no taxation of homage: I hold the olive in my


hand; my words are as fun of peace as matter.


Yet you began rudely. What are you? what would you?


The rudeness that hath appeared in me have I


learned from my entertainment. What I am, and what I


would, are as secret as maidenhead; to your ears,


Give us the place alone: we will hear this divinity.


A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said of it.


In his bosom! In what chapter of his bosom?


To answer by the method, in the first of his heart.


O, I have read it: it is heresy. Have you no more to say?


Have you any commission from your lord to negotiate


with my face? You are now out of your text: but


we will draw the curtain and show you the picture.


Look you, sir, such a one I was this present: ist


Tis in grain, sir; twill endure wind and weather.


Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white


Natures own sweet and cunning hand laid on:


If you will lead these graces to the grave


O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will give


out divers schedules of my beauty: it shall be


inventoried, and every particle and utensil


labelled to my will: as, item, two lips,


indifferent red; item, two grey eyes, with lids to


them; item, one neck, one chin, and so forth. Were


I see you what you are, you are too proud;


But, if you were the devil, you are fair.


My lord and master loves you: O, such love


Could be but recompensed, though you were crownd


With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.


Your lord does know my mind; I cannot love him:


Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble,


Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth;


In voices well divulged, free, learnd and valiant;


And in dimension and the shape of nature


A gracious person: but yet I cannot love him;


With such a suffering, such a deadly life,


And sing them loud even in the dead of night;


Halloo your name to the reverberate hills


Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:


I cannot love him: let him send no more;


Unless, perchance, you come to me again,


To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well:


I thank you for your pains: spend this for me.


I am no feed post, lady; keep your purse:


My master, not myself, lacks recompense.


Love make his heart of flint that you shall love;


And let your fervor, like my masters, be


Placed in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty.


I am a gentleman. Ill be sworn thou art;


Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions and spirit,


Do give thee five-fold blazon: not too fast:


Unless the master were the man. How now!


Even so quickly may one catch the plague?


To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.


The countys man: he left this ring behind him,


Would I or not: tell him Ill none of it.


Desire him not to flatter with his lord,


Nor hold him up with hopes; I am not for him:


If that the youth will come this way to-morrow,


Ill give him reasons fort: hie thee, Malvolio.


Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind.


Fate, show thy force: ourselves we do not owe;


What is decreed must be, and be this so.


Will you stay no longer? nor will you not that I go with you?


By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly over


me: the malignancy of my fate might perhaps


distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of you your


leave that I may bear my evils alone: it were a bad


recompense for your love, to lay any of them on you.


ANTONIO: Let me yet know of you whither you are bound.


No, sooth, sir: my determinate voyage is mere


extravagancy. But I perceive in you so excellent a


touch of modesty, that you will not extort from me


what I am willing to keep in; therefore it charges


me in manners the rather to express myself. You


must know of me then, Antonio, my name is Sebastian,


which I called Roderigo. My father was that


Sebastian of Messaline, whom I know you have heard


of. He left behind him myself and a sister, both


born in an hour: if the heavens had been pleased,


would we had so ended! but you, sir, altered that;


for some hour before you took me from the breach of


A lady, sir, though it was said she much resembled


me, was yet of many accounted beautiful: but,


though I could not with such estimable wonder


overfar believe that, yet thus far I will boldly


publish her; she bore a mind that envy could not but


call fair. She is drowned already, sir, with salt


water, though I seem to drown her remembrance again with more.


O good Antonio, forgive me your trouble.


If you will not murder me for my love, let me be


If you will not undo what you have done, that is,


kill him whom you have recovered, desire it not.


Fare ye well at once: my bosom is full of kindness,


and I am yet so near the manners of my mother, that


upon the least occasion more mine eyes will tell


tales of me. I am bound to the Count Orsinos court: farewell.


The gentleness of all the gods go with thee!


Else would I very shortly see thee there.


That danger shall seem sport, and I will go.


Were not you even now with the Countess Olivia?


Even now, sir; on a moderate pace I have since


She returns this ring to you, sir: you might have


saved me my pains, to have taken it away yourself.


She adds, moreover, that you should put your lord


into a desperate assurance she will none of him:


and one thing more, that you be never so hardy to


come again in his affairs, unless it be to report


your lords taking of this. Receive it so.


She took the ring of me: Ill none of it.


Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her; and her


will is, it should be so returned: if it be worth


stooping for, there it lies in your eye; if not, be


I left no ring with her: what means this lady?


Fortune forbid my outside have not charmd her!


She made good view of me; indeed, so much,


That sure methought her eyes had lost her tongue,


For she did speak in starts distractedly.


She loves me, sure; the cunning of her passion


None of my lords ring! why, he sent her none.


Poor lady, she were better love a dream.


In womens waxen hearts to set their forms!


How will this fadge? my master loves her dearly;


And I, poor monster, fond as much on him;


My state is desperate for my masters love;


What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe!


Approach, Sir Andrew: not to be abed after


midnight is to be up betimes; and diluculo


Nay, my troth, I know not: but I know, to be up


A false conclusion: I hate it as an unfilled can.


To be up after midnight and to go to bed then, is


early: so that to go to bed after midnight is to go


to bed betimes. Does not our life consist of the


Faith, so they say; but I think it rather consists


Thourt a scholar; let us therefore eat and drink.


How now, my hearts! did you never see the picture


By my troth, the fool has an excellent breast. I


had rather than forty shillings I had such a leg,


and so sweet a breath to sing, as the fool has. In


sooth, thou wast in very gracious fooling last


night, when thou spokest of Pigrogromitus, of the


Vapians passing the equinoctial of Queubus: twas


very good, i faith. I sent thee sixpence for thy


I did impeticos thy gratillity; for Malvolios nose


is no whipstock: my lady has a white hand, and the


Excellent! why, this is the best fooling, when all


Come on; there is sixpence for you: lets have a song.


Theres a testril of me too: if one knight give a--


Would you have a love-song, or a song of good life?


O, stay and hear; your true loves coming,


A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight.


To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in contagion.


But shall we make the welkin dance indeed? shall we


rouse the night-owl in a catch that will draw three


souls out of one weaver? shall we do that?


An you love me, lets dot: I am dog at a catch.


Byr lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well.


Most certain. Let our catch be, Thou knave.


Hold thy peace, thou knave, knight? I shall be


constrained int to call thee knave, knight.


Tis not the first time I have constrained one to


call me knave. Begin, fool: it begins Hold thy peace.


What a caterwauling do you keep here! If my lady


have not called up her steward Malvolio and bid him


My ladys a Cataian, we are politicians, Malvolios


a Peg-a-Ramsey, and Three merry men be we. Am not


I consanguineous? am I not of her blood?


There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady, lady!


Beshrew me, the knights in admirable fooling.


Ay, he does well enough if he be disposed, and so do


I too: he does it with a better grace, but I do it


[Sings]  O, the twelfth day of December,--


My masters, are you mad? or what are you? Have ye


no wit, manners, nor honesty, but to gabble like


tinkers at this time of night? Do ye make an


alehouse of my ladys house, that ye squeak out your


coziers catches without any mitigation or remorse


of voice? Is there no respect of place, persons, nor


We did keep time, sir, in our catches. Sneck up!


Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My lady bade me


tell you, that, though she harbours you as her


kinsman, shes nothing allied to your disorders. If


you can separate yourself and your misdemeanors, you


are welcome to the house; if not, an it would please


you to take leave of her, she is very willing to bid


Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be gone.


His eyes do show his days are almost done.


Out o tune, sir: ye lie. Art any more than a


steward? Dost thou think, because thou art


virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?


Yes, by Saint Anne, and ginger shall be hot i the


Thourt i the right. Go, sir, rub your chain with


Mistress Mary, if you prized my ladys favour at any


thing more than contempt, you would not give means


for this uncivil rule: she shall know of it, by this hand.


Twere as good a deed as to drink when a mans


a-hungry, to challenge him the field, and then to


break promise with him and make a fool of him.


Dot, knight: Ill write thee a challenge: or Ill


deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth.


Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for tonight: since the


youth of the counts was today with thy lady, she is


much out of quiet. For Monsieur Malvolio, let me


alone with him: if I do not gull him into a


nayword, and make him a common recreation, do not


think I have wit enough to lie straight in my bed:


Possess us, possess us; tell us something of him.


Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of puritan.


O, if I thought that Ild beat him like a dog!


What, for being a puritan? thy exquisite reason,


I have no exquisite reason fort, but I have reason


The devil a puritan that he is, or any thing


constantly, but a time-pleaser; an affectioned ass,


that cons state without book and utters it by great


swarths: the best persuaded of himself, so


crammed, as he thinks, with excellencies, that it is


his grounds of faith that all that look on him love


him; and on that vice in him will my revenge find


I will drop in his way some obscure epistles of


love; wherein, by the colour of his beard, the shape


of his leg, the manner of his gait, the expressure


of his eye, forehead, and complexion, he shall find


himself most feelingly personated. I can write very


like my lady your niece: on a forgotten matter we


can hardly make distinction of our hands.


He shall think, by the letters that thou wilt drop,


that they come from my niece, and that shes in


My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour.


And your horse now would make him an ass.


Sport royal, I warrant you: I know my physic will


work with him. I will plant you two, and let the


fool make a third, where he shall find the letter:


observe his construction of it. For this night, to


Shes a beagle, true-bred, and one that adores me:


Lets to bed, knight. Thou hadst need send for


If I cannot recover your niece, I am a foul way out.


Send for money, knight: if thou hast her not i


If I do not, never trust me, take it how you will.


Come, come, Ill go burn some sack; tis too late


to go to bed now: come, knight; come, knight.


Enter DUKE ORSINO, VIOLA, CURIO, and others


Give me some music. Now, good morrow, friends.


Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song,


That old and antique song we heard last night:


Methought it did relieve my passion much,


More than light airs and recollected terms


Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times:


He is not here, so please your lordship that should sing it.


Feste, the jester, my lord; a fool that the lady


Olivias father took much delight in. He is about the house.


Seek him out, and play the tune the while.


Come hither, boy: if ever thou shalt love,


Unstaid and skittish in all motions else,


Save in the constant image of the creature


That is beloved. How dost thou like this tune?


My life upont, young though thou art, thine eye


Hath stayd upon some favour that it loves:


She is not worth thee, then. What years, i faith?


Too old by heaven: let still the woman take


An elder than herself: so wears she to him,


So sways she level in her husbands heart:


For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,


More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn,


Then let thy love be younger than thyself,


For women are as roses, whose fair flower


Being once displayd, doth fall that very hour.


And so they are: alas, that they are so;


To die, even when they to perfection grow!


O, fellow, come, the song we had last night.


The spinsters and the knitters in the sun


And the free maids that weave their thread with bones


My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown:


No pains, sir: I take pleasure in singing, sir.


Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or another.


Now, the melancholy god protect thee; and the


tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffeta, for


thy mind is a very opal. I would have men of such


constancy put to sea, that their business might be


every thing and their intent every where; for thats


it that always makes a good voyage of nothing. Farewell.


Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty:


Tell her, my love, more noble than the world,


The parts that fortune hath bestowd upon her,


That nature pranks her in attracts my soul.


Say that some lady, as perhaps there is,


Hath for your love a great a pang of heart


As you have for Olivia: you cannot love her;


You tell her so; must she not then be answerd?


Can bide the beating of so strong a passion


As love doth give my heart; no womans heart


So big, to hold so much; they lack retention


That suffer surfeit, cloyment and revolt;


Too well what love women to men may owe:


In faith, they are as true of heart as we.


As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman,


A blank, my lord. She never told her love,


But let concealment, like a worm i the bud,


Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought,


Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?


We men may say more, swear more: but indeed


Our shows are more than will; for still we prove


Much in our vows, but little in our love.


But died thy sister of her love, my boy?


I am all the daughters of my fathers house,


And all the brothers too: and yet I know not.


To her in haste; give her this jewel; say,


My love can give no place, bide no denay.


Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN


Nay, Ill come: if I lose a scruple of this sport,


let me be boiled to death with melancholy.


Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly


rascally sheep-biter come by some notable shame?


I would exult, man: you know, he brought me out o


favour with my lady about a bear-baiting here.


To anger him well have the bear again; and we will


fool him black and blue: shall we not, Sir Andrew?


Get ye all three into the box-tree: Malvolios


coming down this walk: he has been yonder i the


sun practising behavior to his own shadow this half


hour: observe him, for the love of mockery; for I


know this letter will make a contemplative idiot of


him. Close, in the name of jesting! Lie thou there,


for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling.


Tis but fortune; all is fortune. Maria once told


me she did affect me: and I have heard herself come


thus near, that, should she fancy, it should be one


of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a more


exalted respect than any one else that follows her.


O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock


of him: how he jets under his advanced plumes!


There is example fort; the lady of the Strachy


Having been three months married to her, sitting in


O, for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye!


Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet


gown; having come from a day-bed, where I have left


And then to have the humour of state; and after a


demure travel of regard, telling them I know my


place as I would they should do theirs, to for my


Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make


out for him: I frown the while; and perchance wind


up watch, or play with my--some rich jewel. Toby


Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace.


I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar


smile with an austere regard of control,--


And does not Toby take you a blow o the lips then?


Saying, Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast me on


your niece give me this prerogative of speech,--


Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot.


Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with


I knew twas I; for many do call me fool.


O, peace! and the spirit of humour intimate reading


By my life, this is my ladys hand these be her


very Cs, her Us and her Ts and thus makes she her


great Ps. It is, in contempt of question, her hand.


[Reads]  To the unknown beloved, this, and my good


wishes:--her very phrases! By your leave, wax.


Soft! and the impressure her Lucrece, with which she


uses to seal: tis my lady. To whom should this be?


No man must know. What follows? the numbers


altered! No man must know: if this should be


With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore:


M, O, A, I, doth sway my life. Nay, but first, let


And with what wing the staniel cheques at it!


I may command where I adore. Why, she may command


me: I serve her; she is my lady. Why, this is


evident to any formal capacity; there is no


obstruction in this: and the end,--what should


that alphabetical position portend? If I could make


that resemble something in me,--Softly! M, O, A,


O, ay, make up that: he is now at a cold scent.


Sowter will cry upont for all this, though it be as


M,--Malvolio; M,--why, that begins my name.


Did not I say he would work it out? the cur is


M,--but then there is no consonancy in the sequel;


that suffers under probation A should follow but O does.


Ay, or Ill cudgel him, and make him cry O!


Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you might see


more detraction at your heels than fortunes before


M, O, A, I; this simulation is not as the former: and


yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for


every one of these letters are in my name. Soft!


If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I


am above thee; but be not afraid of greatness: some


are born great, some achieve greatness, and some


have greatness thrust upon em. Thy Fates open


their hands; let thy blood and spirit embrace them;


and, to inure thyself to what thou art like to be,


cast thy humble slough and appear fresh. Be


opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants; let


thy tongue tang arguments of state; put thyself into


the trick of singularity: she thus advises thee


that sighs for thee. Remember who commended thy


yellow stockings, and wished to see thee ever


cross-gartered: I say, remember. Go to, thou art


made, if thou desirest to be so; if not, let me see


thee a steward still, the fellow of servants, and


not worthy to touch Fortunes fingers. Farewell.


She that would alter services with thee,


Daylight and champaign discovers not more: this is


open. I will be proud, I will read politic authors,


I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off gross


acquaintance, I will be point-devise the very man.


I do not now fool myself, to let imagination jade


me; for every reason excites to this, that my lady


loves me. She did commend my yellow stockings of


late, she did praise my leg being cross-gartered;


and in this she manifests herself to my love, and


with a kind of injunction drives me to these habits


of her liking. I thank my stars I am happy. I will


be strange, stout, in yellow stockings, and


cross-gartered, even with the swiftness of putting


on. Jove and my stars be praised! Here is yet a


Thou canst not choose but know who I am. If thou


entertainest my love, let it appear in thy smiling;


thy smiles become thee well; therefore in my


presence still smile, dear my sweet, I prithee.


Jove, I thank thee: I will smile; I will do


I will not give my part of this sport for a pension


I could marry this wench for this device.


And ask no other dowry with her but such another jest.


Shall I play my freedom at traytrip, and become thy


Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that when


the image of it leaves him he must run mad.


Nay, but say true; does it work upon him?


If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark


his first approach before my lady: he will come to


her in yellow stockings, and tis a colour she


abhors, and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests;


and he will smile upon her, which will now be so


unsuitable to her disposition, being addicted to a


melancholy as she is, that it cannot but turn him


into a notable contempt. If you will see it, follow


To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit!


Save thee, friend, and thy music: dost thou live by


No such matter, sir: I do live by the church; for


I do live at my house, and my house doth stand by


So thou mayst say, the king lies by a beggar, if a


beggar dwell near him; or, the church stands by thy


tabour, if thy tabour stand by the church.


You have said, sir. To see this age! A sentence is


but a cheveril glove to a good wit: how quickly the


Nay, thats certain; they that dally nicely with


I would, therefore, my sister had had no name, sir.


Why, sir, her names a word; and to dally with that


word might make my sister wanton. But indeed words


are very rascals since bonds disgraced them.


Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words; and


words are grown so false, I am loath to prove


I warrant thou art a merry fellow and carest for nothing.


Not so, sir, I do care for something; but in my


conscience, sir, I do not care for you: if that be


to care for nothing, sir, I would it would make you invisible.


No, indeed, sir; the Lady Olivia has no folly: she


will keep no fool, sir, till she be married; and


fools are as like husbands as pilchards are to


herrings; the husbands the bigger: I am indeed not


Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun,


it shines every where. I would be sorry, sir, but


the fool should be as oft with your master as with


my mistress: I think I saw your wisdom there.


Nay, an thou pass upon me, Ill no more with thee.


Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send thee a beard!


By my troth, Ill tell thee, I am almost sick for


though I would not have it grow on my chin. Is thy


Would not a pair of these have bred, sir?


Yes, being kept together and put to use.


I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia, sir, to bring


The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, begging but


a beggar: Cressida was a beggar. My lady is


within, sir. I will construe to them whence you


come; who you are and what you would are out of my


welkin, I might say element, but the word is over-worn.


This fellow is wise enough to play the fool;


And to do that well craves a kind of wit:


He must observe their mood on whom he jests,


And, like the haggard, cheque at every feather


That comes before his eye. This is a practise


But wise men, folly-falln, quite taint their wit.


Will you encounter the house? my niece is desirous


you should enter, if your trade be to her.


I am bound to your niece, sir; I mean, she is the


Taste your legs, sir; put them to motion.


My legs do better understand me, sir, than I


understand what you mean by bidding me taste my legs.


I will answer you with gait and entrance. But we


Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain


That youths a rare courtier: Rain odours; well.


My matter hath no voice, to your own most pregnant


Odours, pregnant and vouchsafed: Ill get em


Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing.


Exeunt SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and MARIA


My duty, madam, and most humble service.


Cesario is your servants name, fair princess.


Since lowly feigning was calld compliment:


Youre servant to the Count Orsino, youth.


And he is yours, and his must needs be yours:


Your servants servant is your servant, madam.


For him, I think not on him: for his thoughts,


Would they were blanks, rather than filld with me!


Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts


After the last enchantment you did here,


Under your hard construction must I sit,


To force that on you, in a shameful cunning,


Which you knew none of yours: what might you think?


Have you not set mine honour at the stake


And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts


That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiving


Enough is shown: a cypress, not a bosom,


Hideth my heart. So, let me hear you speak.


No, not a grize; for tis a vulgar proof,


Why, then, methinks tis time to smile again.


O, world, how apt the poor are to be proud!


If one should be a prey, how much the better


The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.


Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you:


And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest,


Your were is alike to reap a proper man:


Then westward-ho! Grace and good disposition


I prithee, tell me what thou thinkest of me.


That you do think you are not what you are.


Then think you right: I am not what I am.


I would you were as I would have you be!


I wish it might, for now I am your fool.


A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon


Than love that would seem hid: loves night is noon.


By maidhood, honour, truth and every thing,


I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride,


Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,


For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause,


But rather reason thus with reason fetter,


Love sought is good, but given unsought better.


I have one heart, one bosom and one truth,


Yet come again; for thou perhaps mayst move


That heart, which now abhors, to like his love.


Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN


Thy reason, dear venom, give thy reason.


You must needs yield your reason, Sir Andrew.


Marry, I saw your niece do more favours to the


counts serving-man than ever she bestowed upon me;


Did she see thee the while, old boy? tell me that.


This was a great argument of love in her toward you.


I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of


And they have been grand-jury-men since before Noah


She did show favour to the youth in your sight only


to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse valour, to


put fire in your heart and brimstone in your liver.


You should then have accosted her; and with some


excellent jests, fire-new from the mint, you should


have banged the youth into dumbness. This was


looked for at your hand, and this was balked: the


double gilt of this opportunity you let time wash


off, and you are now sailed into the north of my


ladys opinion; where you will hang like an icicle


on a Dutchmans beard, unless you do redeem it by


some laudable attempt either of valour or policy.


Ant be any way, it must be with valour; for policy


I hate: I had as lief be a Brownist as a


Why, then, build me thy fortunes upon the basis of


valour. Challenge me the counts youth to fight


with him; hurt him in eleven places: my niece shall


take note of it; and assure thyself, there is no


love-broker in the world can more prevail in mans


commendation with woman than report of valour.


Will either of you bear me a challenge to him?


Go, write it in a martial hand; be curst and brief;


it is no matter how witty, so it be eloquent and fun


of invention: taunt him with the licence of ink:


if thou thoust him some thrice, it shall not be


amiss; and as many lies as will lie in thy sheet of


paper, although the sheet were big enough for the


bed of Ware in England, set em down: go, about it.


Let there be gall enough in thy ink, though thou


write with a goose-pen, no matter: about it.


This is a dear manikin to you, Sir Toby.


I have been dear to him, lad, some two thousand


We shall have a rare letter from him: but youll


Never trust me, then; and by all means stir on the


youth to an answer. I think oxen and wainropes


cannot hale them together. For Andrew, if he were


opened, and you find so much blood in his liver as


will clog the foot of a flea, Ill eat the rest of


And his opposite, the youth, bears in his visage no


Look, where the youngest wren of nine comes.


If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourself


into stitches, follow me. Yond gull Malvolio is


turned heathen, a very renegado; for there is no


Christian, that means to be saved by believing


rightly, can ever believe such impossible passages


Most villanously; like a pedant that keeps a school


i the church. I have dogged him, like his


murderer. He does obey every point of the letter


that I dropped to betray him: he does smile his


face into more lines than is in the new map with the


augmentation of the Indies: you have not seen such


a thing as tis. I can hardly forbear hurling things


at him. I know my lady will strike him: if she do,


hell smile and taket for a great favour.


I would not by my will have troubled you;


But, since you make your pleasure of your pains,


More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth;


And not all love to see you, though so much


As might have drawn one to a longer voyage,


But jealousy what might befall your travel,


Being skilless in these parts; which to a stranger,


Rough and unhospitable: my willing love,


And thanks; and ever [         ] oft good turns


Are shuffled off with such uncurrent pay:


But, were my worth as is my conscience firm,


You should find better dealing. Whats to do?


Shall we go see the reliques of this town?


To-morrow, sir: best first go see your lodging.


With the memorials and the things of fame


I do not without danger walk these streets:


Once, in a sea-fight, gainst the count his galleys


I did some service; of such note indeed,


That were I taen here it would scarce be answerd.


Belike you slew great number of his people.


The offence is not of such a bloody nature;


Albeit the quality of the time and quarrel


Might well have given us bloody argument.


It might have since been answerd in repaying


What we took from them; which, for traffics sake,


Most of our city did: only myself stood out;


For which, if I be lapsed in this place,


It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, heres my purse.


Is best to lodge: I will bespeak our diet,


Whiles you beguile the time and feed your knowledge


With viewing of the town: there shall you have me.


Haply your eye shall light upon some toy


You have desire to purchase; and your store,


I have sent after him: he says hell come;


How shall I feast him? what bestow of him?


For youth is bought more oft than beggd or borrowd.


And suits well for a servant with my fortunes:


Hes coming, madam; but in very strange manner. He


No. madam, he does nothing but smile: your


ladyship were best to have some guard about you, if


he come; for, sure, the man is tainted ins wits.


Sad, lady! I could be sad: this does make some


obstruction in the blood, this cross-gartering; but


what of that? if it please the eye of one, it is


with me as the very true sonnet is, Please one, and


Why, how dost thou, man? what is the matter with thee?


Not black in my mind, though yellow in my legs. It


did come to his hands, and commands shall be


executed: I think we do know the sweet Roman hand.


To bed! ay, sweet-heart, and Ill come to thee.


God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so and kiss


At your request! yes; nightingales answer daws.


Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady?


Be not afraid of greatness: twas well writ.


And some have greatness thrust upon them.


Remember who commended thy yellow stocking s,--


Go to thou art made, if thou desirest to be so;--


If not, let me see thee a servant still.


Madam, the young gentleman of the Count Orsinos is


returned: I could hardly entreat him back: he


Good Maria, let this fellow be looked to. Wheres


my cousin Toby? Let some of my people have a special


care of him: I would not have him miscarry for the


O, ho! do you come near me now? no worse man than


Sir Toby to look to me! This concurs directly with


the letter: she sends him on purpose, that I may


appear stubborn to him; for she incites me to that


in the letter. Cast thy humble slough, says she;


be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants;


let thy tongue tang with arguments of state; put


thyself into the trick of singularity; and


consequently sets down the manner how; as, a sad


face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in the


habit of some sir of note, and so forth. I have


limed her; but it is Joves doing, and Jove make me


thankful! And when she went away now, Let this


fellow be looked to: fellow! not Malvolio, nor


after my degree, but fellow. Why, every thing


adheres together, that no dram of a scruple, no


scruple of a scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous


or unsafe circumstance--What can be said? Nothing


that can be can come between me and the full


prospect of my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the


Re-enter MARIA, with SIR TOBY BELCH and FABIAN


Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all


the devils of hell be drawn in little, and Legion


himself possessed him, yet Ill speak to him.


Here he is, here he is. How ist with you, sir?


Go off; I discard you: let me enjoy my private: go


Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did not


I tell you? Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a


Go to, go to; peace, peace; we must deal gently


with him: let me alone. How do you, Malvolio? how


ist with you? What, man! defy the devil:


La you, an you speak ill of the devil, how he takes


it at heart! Pray God, he be not bewitched!


Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning, if I


live. My lady would not lose him for more than Ill say.


Prithee, hold thy peace; this is not the way: do


you not see you move him? let me alone with him.


No way but gentleness; gently, gently: the fiend is


Why, how now, my bawcock! how dost thou, chuck?


Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, man! tis not for


gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan: hang


Get him to say his prayers, good Sir Toby, get him to pray.


No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godliness.


Go, hang yourselves all! you are idle shallow


things: I am not of your element: you shall know


If this were played upon a stage now, I could


His very genius hath taken the infection of the device, man.


Nay, pursue him now, lest the device take air and taint.


Come, well have him in a dark room and bound. My


niece is already in the belief that hes mad: we


may carry it thus, for our pleasure and his penance,


till our very pastime, tired out of breath, prompt


us to have mercy on him: at which time we will


bring the device to the bar and crown thee for a


Heres the challenge, read it: warrant theres


Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art but a scurvy fellow.


[Reads]  Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind,


why I do call thee so, for I will show thee no reason fort.


A good note; that keeps you from the blow of the law.


[Reads]  Thou comest to the lady Olivia, and in my


sight she uses thee kindly: but thou liest in thy


throat; that is not the matter I challenge thee for.


Very brief, and to exceeding good sense--less.


[Reads]  I will waylay thee going home; where if it


[Reads]  Thou killest me like a rogue and a villain.


Still you keep o the windy side of the law: good.


[Reads]  Fare thee well; and God have mercy upon


one of our souls! He may have mercy upon mine; but


my hope is better, and so look to thyself. Thy


friend, as thou usest him, and thy sworn enemy,


If this letter move him not, his legs cannot:


You may have very fit occasion fort: he is now in


some commerce with my lady, and will by and by depart.


Go, Sir Andrew: scout me for him at the corner the


orchard like a bum-baily: so soon as ever thou seest


him, draw; and, as thou drawest swear horrible; for


it comes to pass oft that a terrible oath, with a


swaggering accent sharply twanged off, gives manhood


more approbation than ever proof itself would have


Now will not I deliver his letter: for the behavior


of the young gentleman gives him out to be of good


capacity and breeding; his employment between his


lord and my niece confirms no less: therefore this


letter, being so excellently ignorant, will breed no


terror in the youth: he will find it comes from a


clodpole. But, sir, I will deliver his challenge by


word of mouth; set upon Aguecheek a notable report


of valour; and drive the gentleman, as I know his


youth will aptly receive it, into a most hideous


opinion of his rage, skill, fury and impetuosity.


This will so fright them both that they will kill


one another by the look, like cockatrices.


Here he comes with your niece: give them way till


I will meditate the while upon some horrid message


Exeunt SIR TOBY BELCH, FABIAN, and MARIA


I have said too much unto a heart of stone


Theres something in me that reproves my fault;


But such a headstrong potent fault it is,


With the same havior that your passion bears


Here, wear this jewel for me, tis my picture;


Refuse it not; it hath no tongue to vex you;


Nothing but this; your true love for my master.


How with mine honour may I give him that


Well, come again to-morrow: fare thee well:


A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell.


That defence thou hast, betake thee tot: of what


nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know


not; but thy intercepter, full of despite, bloody as


the hunter, attends thee at the orchard-end:


dismount thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation, for


thy assailant is quick, skilful and deadly.


You mistake, sir; I am sure no man hath any quarrel


to me: my remembrance is very free and clear from


Youll find it otherwise, I assure you: therefore,


if you hold your life at any price, betake you to


your guard; for your opposite hath in him what


youth, strength, skill and wrath can furnish man withal.


He is knight, dubbed with unhatched rapier and on


carpet consideration; but he is a devil in private


brawl: souls and bodies hath he divorced three; and


his incensement at this moment is so implacable,


that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death


and sepulchre. Hob, nob, is his word; givet or taket.


I will return again into the house and desire some


conduct of the lady. I am no fighter. I have heard


of some kind of men that put quarrels purposely on


others, to taste their valour: belike this is a man


Sir, no; his indignation derives itself out of a


very competent injury: therefore, get you on and


give him his desire. Back you shall not to the


house, unless you undertake that with me which with


as much safety you might answer him: therefore, on,


or strip your sword stark naked; for meddle you


must, thats certain, or forswear to wear iron about you.


This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you, do me


this courteous office, as to know of the knight what


my offence to him is: it is something of my


I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by this


Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter?


I know the knight is incensed against you, even to a


mortal arbitrement; but nothing of the circumstance more.


I beseech you, what manner of man is he?


Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read him by


his form, as you are like to find him in the proof


of his valour. He is, indeed, sir, the most skilful,


bloody and fatal opposite that you could possibly


have found in any part of Illyria. Will you walk


towards him? I will make your peace with him if I


I shall be much bound to you fort: I am one that


had rather go with sir priest than sir knight: I


care not who knows so much of my mettle.


Re-enter SIR TOBY BELCH, with SIR ANDREW


Why, man, hes a very devil; I have not seen such a


firago. I had a pass with him, rapier, scabbard and


all, and he gives me the stuck in with such a mortal


motion, that it is inevitable; and on the answer, he


pays you as surely as your feet hit the ground they


step on. They say he has been fencer to the Sophy.


Ay, but he will not now be pacified: Fabian can


Plague ont, an I thought he had been valiant and so


cunning in fence, Ild have seen him damned ere Ild


have challenged him. Let him let the matter slip,


and Ill give him my horse, grey Capilet.


Ill make the motion: stand here, make a good show


ont: this shall end without the perdition of souls.


Marry, Ill ride your horse as well as I ride you.


I have his horse to take up the quarrel:


I have persuaded him the youths a devil.


He is as horribly conceited of him; and pants and


looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels.


[To VIOLA]  Theres no remedy, sir; he will fight


with you fors oath sake: marry, he hath better


bethought him of his quarrel, and he finds that now


scarce to be worth talking of: therefore draw, for


the supportance of his vow; he protests he will not hurt you.


[Aside]  Pray God defend me! A little thing would


make me tell them how much I lack of a man.


Come, Sir Andrew, theres no remedy; the gentleman


will, for his honours sake, have one bout with you;


he cannot by the duello avoid it: but he has


promised me, as he is a gentleman and a soldier, he


Put up your sword. If this young gentleman


Have done offence, I take the fault on me:


One, sir, that for his love dares yet do more


Than you have heard him brag to you he will.


Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for you.


O good Sir Toby, hold! here come the officers.


Pray, sir, put your sword up, if you please.


Marry, will I, sir; and, for that I promised you,


Ill be as good as my word: he will bear you easily


Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit of Count Orsino.


No, sir, no jot; I know your favour well,


Though now you have no sea-cap on your head.


Take him away: he knows I know him well.


But theres no remedy; I shall answer it.


Makes me to ask you for my purse? It grieves me


Than what befalls myself. You stand amazed;


I must entreat of you some of that money.


For the fair kindness you have showd me here,


And, part, being prompted by your present trouble,


Ill lend you something: my having is not much;


Ill make division of my present with you:


Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery,


Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness,


Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption


Let me speak a little. This youth that you see here


I snatchd one half out of the jaws of death,


Relieved him with such sanctity of love,


And to his image, which methought did promise


Whats that to us? The time goes by: away!


Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame.


In nature theres no blemish but the mind;


None can be calld deformd but the unkind:


Virtue is beauty, but the beauteous evil


Are empty trunks oerflourishd by the devil.


The man grows mad: away with him! Come, come, sir.


Methinks his words do from such passion fly,


That I, dear brother, be now taen for you!


Come hither, knight; come hither, Fabian: well


whisper oer a couplet or two of most sage saws.


Yet living in my glass; even such and so


Still in this fashion, colour, ornament,


Tempests are kind and salt waves fresh in love.


A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward than


a hare: his dishonesty appears in leaving his


friend here in necessity and denying him; and for


A coward, a most devout coward, religious in it.


Do; cuff him soundly, but never draw thy sword.


I dare lay any money twill be nothing yet.


Will you make me believe that I am not sent for you?


Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow:


Well held out, i faith! No, I do not know you; nor


I am not sent to you by my lady, to bid you come


speak with her; nor your name is not Master Cesario;


nor this is not my nose neither. Nothing that is so is so.


I prithee, vent thy folly somewhere else: Thou


Vent my folly! he has heard that word of some


great man and now applies it to a fool. Vent my


folly! I am afraid this great lubber, the world,


will prove a cockney. I prithee now, ungird thy


strangeness and tell me what I shall vent to my


lady: shall I vent to her that thou art coming?


I prithee, foolish Greek, depart from me: Theres


money for thee: if you tarry longer, I shall give


By my troth, thou hast an open hand. These wise men


that give fools money get themselves a good


Enter SIR ANDREW, SIR TOBY BELCH, and FABIAN


Now, sir, have I met you again? theres for you.


Why, theres for thee, and there, and there. Are all


Hold, sir, or Ill throw your dagger oer the house.


This will I tell my lady straight: I would not be


Nay, let him alone: Ill go another way to work


with him; Ill have an action of battery against


him, if there be any law in Illyria: though I


struck him first, yet its no matter for that.


Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young


soldier, put up your iron: you are well fleshed; come on.


I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou now? If


thou darest tempt me further, draw thy sword.


What, what? Nay, then I must have an ounce or two


Hold, Toby; on thy life I charge thee, hold!


Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch,


Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves,


Where manners neer were preachd! out of my sight!


Exeunt SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN


Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway


Against thy peace. Go with me to my house,


And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks


This ruffian hath botchd up, that thou thereby


Mayst smile at this: thou shalt not choose but go:


He started one poor heart of mine in thee.


What relish is in this? how runs the stream?


Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;


If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!


Nay, come, I prithee; would thouldst be ruled by me!


Nay, I prithee, put on this gown and this beard;


make him believe thou art Sir Topas the curate: do


it quickly; Ill call Sir Toby the whilst.


Well, Ill put it on, and I will dissemble myself


int; and I would I were the first that ever


dissembled in such a gown. I am not tall enough to


become the function well, nor lean enough to be


thought a good student; but to be said an honest man


and a good housekeeper goes as fairly as to say a


careful man and a great scholar. The competitors enter.


Bonos dies, Sir Toby: for, as the old hermit of


Prague, that never saw pen and ink, very wittily


said to a niece of King Gorboduc, That that is is;


so I, being Master Parson, am Master Parson; for,


The knave counterfeits well; a good knave.


Sir Topas the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio


Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to my lady.


Out, hyperbolical fiend! how vexest thou this man!


Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged: good Sir


Topas, do not think I am mad: they have laid me


Fie, thou dishonest Satan! I call thee by the most


modest terms; for I am one of those gentle ones


that will use the devil himself with courtesy:


Why it hath bay windows transparent as barricadoes,


and the clearstores toward the south north are as


lustrous as ebony; and yet complainest thou of


I am not mad, Sir Topas: I say to you, this house is dark.


Madman, thou errest: I say, there is no darkness


but ignorance; in which thou art more puzzled than


I say, this house is as dark as ignorance, though


ignorance were as dark as hell; and I say, there


was never man thus abused. I am no more mad than you


are: make the trial of it in any constant question.


What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild fowl?


That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird.


I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his opinion.


Fare thee well. Remain thou still in darkness:


thou shalt hold the opinion of Pythagoras ere I will


allow of thy wits, and fear to kill a woodcock, lest


thou dispossess the soul of thy grandam. Fare thee well.


Thou mightst have done this without thy beard and


To him in thine own voice, and bring me word how


thou findest him: I would we were well rid of this


knavery. If he may be conveniently delivered, I


would he were, for I am now so far in offence with


my niece that I cannot pursue with any safety this


sport to the upshot. Come by and by to my chamber.


Good fool, as ever thou wilt deserve well at my


hand, help me to a candle, and pen, ink and paper:


as I am a gentleman, I will live to be thankful to


Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits?


Fool, there was never a man so notoriously abused: I


am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art.


But as well? then you are mad indeed, if you be no


They have here propertied me; keep me in darkness,


send ministers to me, asses, and do all they can to


Advise you what you say; the minister is here.


Malvolio, Malvolio, thy wits the heavens restore!


endeavour thyself to sleep, and leave thy vain


Maintain no words with him, good fellow. Who, I,


sir? not I, sir. God be wi you, good Sir Topas.


Alas, sir, be patient. What say you sir? I am


Good fool, help me to some light and some paper: I


tell thee, I am as well in my wits as any man in Illyria.


By this hand, I am. Good fool, some ink, paper and


light; and convey what I will set down to my lady:


it shall advantage thee more than ever the bearing


I will help you tot. But tell me true, are you


not mad indeed? or do you but counterfeit?


Nay, Ill neer believe a madman till I see his


brains. I will fetch you light and paper and ink.


Fool, Ill requite it in the highest degree: I


This is the air; that is the glorious sun;


This pearl she gave me, I do feelt and seet;


And though tis wonder that enwraps me thus,


Yet tis not madness. Wheres Antonio, then?


Yet there he was; and there I found this credit,


That he did range the town to seek me out.


His counsel now might do me golden service;


For though my soul disputes well with my sense,


That this may be some error, but no madness,


Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune


So far exceed all instance, all discourse,


And wrangle with my reason that persuades me


Or else the ladys mad; yet, if twere so,


She could not sway her house, command her followers,


Take and give back affairs and their dispatch


With such a smooth, discreet and stable bearing


As I perceive she does: theres something int


That is deceiveable. But here the lady comes.


Blame not this haste of mine. If you mean well,


Plight me the full assurance of your faith;


That my most jealous and too doubtful soul


Whiles you are willing it shall come to note,


Ill follow this good man, and go with you;


And, having sworn truth, ever will be true.


Then lead the way, good father; and heavens so shine,


That they may fairly note this act of mine!


Now, as thou lovest me, let me see his letter.


Good Master Fabian, grant me another request.


This is, to give a dog, and in recompense desire my


Enter DUKE ORSINO, VIOLA, CURIO, and Lords


I know thee well; how dost thou, my good fellow?


Truly, sir, the better for my foes and the worse


Just the contrary; the better for thy friends.


Marry, sir, they praise me and make an ass of me;


now my foes tell me plainly I am an ass: so that by


my foes, sir I profit in the knowledge of myself,


and by my friends, I am abused: so that,


conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives


make your two affirmatives why then, the worse for


By my troth, sir, no; though it please you to be


Thou shalt not be the worse for me: theres gold.


But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I would


Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this once,


Well, I will be so much a sinner, to be a


Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play; and the old


saying is, the third pays for all: the triplex,


sir, is a good tripping measure; or the bells of


Saint Bennet, sir, may put you in mind; one, two, three.


You can fool no more money out of me at this throw:


if you will let your lady know I am here to speak


with her, and bring her along with you, it may awake


Marry, sir, lullaby to your bounty till I come


again. I go, sir; but I would not have you to think


that my desire of having is the sin of covetousness:


but, as you say, sir, let your bounty take a nap, I


Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me.


Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmeard


For shallow draught and bulk unprizable;


With which such scathful grapple did he make


With the most noble bottom of our fleet,


Cried fame and honour on him. Whats the matter?


That took the Phoenix and her fraught from Candy;


And this is he that did the Tiger board,


When your young nephew Titus lost his leg:


Here in the streets, desperate of shame and state,


In private brabble did we apprehend him.


He did me kindness, sir, drew on my side;


But in conclusion put strange speech upon me:


What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies,


Whom thou, in terms so bloody and so dear,


Be pleased that I shake off these names you give me:


Though I confess, on base and ground enough,


Orsinos enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither:


That most ingrateful boy there by your side,


From the rude seas enraged and foamy mouth


My love, without retention or restraint,


Where being apprehended, his false cunning,


Not meaning to partake with me in danger,


Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,


While one would wink; denied me mine own purse,


To-day, my lord; and for three months before,


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;


What would my lord, but that he may not have,


Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.


What do you say, Cesario? Good my lord,--


If it be aught to the old tune, my lord,


What, to perverseness? you uncivil lady,


To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars


My soul the faithfullst offerings hath breathed out


That eer devotion tenderd! What shall I do?


Even what it please my lord, that shall become him.


Why should I not, had I the heart to do it,


Like to the Egyptian thief at point of death,


That sometimes savours nobly. But hear me this:


Since you to non-regardance cast my faith,


That screws me from my true place in your favour,


Live you the marble-breasted tyrant still;


But this your minion, whom I know you love,


And whom, by heaven I swear, I tender dearly,


Where he sits crowned in his masters spite.


Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mischief:


To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.


More than I love these eyes, more than my life,


More, by all mores, than eer I shall love wife.


Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong?


Hast thou forgot thyself? is it so long?


Whither, my lord? Cesario, husband, stay.


Fear not, Cesario; take thy fortunes up;


Be that thou knowst thou art, and then thou art


Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence,


Here to unfold, though lately we intended


Reveals before tis ripe, what thou dost know


Hath newly passd between this youth and me.


Confirmd by mutual joinder of your hands,


Strengthend by interchangement of your rings;


Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave


O thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be


When time hath sowd a grizzle on thy case?


Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow,


That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow?


Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feet


Where thou and I henceforth may never meet.


Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear.


For the love of God, a surgeon! Send one presently


He has broke my head across and has given Sir Toby


a bloody coxcomb too: for the love of God, your


help! I had rather than forty pound I were at home.


The counts gentleman, one Cesario: we took him for


a coward, but hes the very devil incardinate.


Ods lifelings, here he is! You broke my head for


nothing; and that that I did, I was set on to dot


Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you:


You drew your sword upon me without cause;


But I bespoke you fair, and hurt you not.


If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me: I


think you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb.


Here comes Sir Toby halting; you shall hear more:


but if he had not been in drink, he would have


Thats all one: has hurt me, and theres the end


O, hes drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyes


Then hes a rogue, and a passy measures panyn: I


Away with him! Who hath made this havoc with them?


Ill help you, Sir Toby, because well be dressed together.


Will you help? an ass-head and a coxcomb and a


Get him to bed, and let his hurt be lookd to.


Exeunt Clown, FABIAN, SIR TOBY BELCH, and SIR ANDREW


I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kinsman:


But, had it been the brother of my blood,


I must have done no less with wit and safety.


You throw a strange regard upon me, and by that


One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons,


A natural perspective, that is and is not!


How have the hours rackd and tortured me,


An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin


Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian?


Do I stand there? I never had a brother;


Nor can there be that deity in my nature,


Of here and every where. I had a sister,


Whom the blind waves and surges have devourd.


What countryman? what name? what parentage?


If spirits can assume both form and suit


Were you a woman, as the rest goes even,


I should my tears let fall upon your cheek,


And died that day when Viola from her birth


That day that made my sister thirteen years.


Do not embrace me till each circumstance


Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and jump


Ill bring you to a captain in this town,


Where lie my maiden weeds; by whose gentle help


I was preserved to serve this noble count.


Hath been between this lady and this lord.


[To OLIVIA]  So comes it, lady, you have been mistook:


You would have been contracted to a maid;


Nor are you therein, by my life, deceived,


You are betrothd both to a maid and man.


Be not amazed; right noble is his blood.


If this be so, as yet the glass seems true,


I shall have share in this most happy wreck.


Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times


Thou never shouldst love woman like to me.


And those swearings keep as true in soul


And let me see thee in thy womans weeds.


The captain that did bring me first on shore


Hath my maids garments: he upon some action


He shall enlarge him: fetch Malvolio hither:


They say, poor gentleman, hes much distract.


Re-enter Clown with a letter, and FABIAN


From my remembrance clearly banishd his.


Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the stavess end as


well as a man in his case may do: has here writ a


letter to you; I should have givent you to-day


morning, but as a madmans epistles are no gospels,


so it skills not much when they are delivered.


Look then to be well edified when the fool delivers


No, madam, I do but read madness: an your ladyship


will have it as it ought to be, you must allow Vox.


So I do, madonna; but to read his right wits is to


read thus: therefore perpend, my princess, and give ear.


[Reads]  By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and the


world shall know it: though you have put me into


darkness and given your drunken cousin rule over


me, yet have I the benefit of my senses as well as


your ladyship. I have your own letter that induced


me to the semblance I put on; with the which I doubt


not but to do myself much right, or you much shame.


Think of me as you please. I leave my duty a little


unthought of and speak out of my injury.


See him deliverd, Fabian; bring him hither.


My lord so please you, these things further


One day shall crown the alliance ont, so please you,


Madam, I am most apt to embrace your offer.


Your master quits you; and for your service done him,


So far beneath your soft and tender breeding,


And since you calld me master for so long,


Here is my hand: you shall from this time be


Lady, you have. Pray you, peruse that letter.


Write from it, if you can, in hand or phrase;


Or say tis not your seal, nor your invention:


You can say none of this: well, grant it then


Why you have given me such clear lights of favour,


Bade me come smiling and cross-garterd to you,


Why have you sufferd me to be imprisond,


Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest,


And made the most notorious geck and gull


That eer invention playd on? tell me why.


Though, I confess, much like the character


First told me thou wast mad; then camest in smiling,


And in such forms which here were presupposed


Upon thee in the letter. Prithee, be content:


This practise hath most shrewdly passd upon thee;


But when we know the grounds and authors of it,


Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge


Taint the condition of this present hour,


Which I have wonderd at. In hope it shall not,


Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts


We had conceived against him: Maria writ


The letter at Sir Tobys great importance;


In recompense whereof he hath married her.


How with a sportful malice it was followd,


May rather pluck on laughter than revenge;


Alas, poor fool, how have they baffled thee!


Why, some are born great, some achieve greatness,


and some have greatness thrown upon them. I was


one, sir, in this interlude; one Sir Topas, sir; but


thats all one. By the Lord, fool, I am not mad.


But do you remember? Madam, why laugh you at such


a barren rascal? an you smile not, hes gagged:


and thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.


Ill be revenged on the whole pack of you.


When that is known and golden time convents,


Of our dear souls. Meantime, sweet sister,


We will not part from hence. Cesario, come;


For so you shall be, while you are a man;


Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate,


And well strive to please you every day.


Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.


Weret not affection chains thy tender days


To the sweet glances of thy honourd love,


Than, living dully sluggardized at home,


Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness.


But since thou lovest, love still and thrive therein,


Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine, adieu!


Think on thy Proteus, when thou haply seest


Some rare note-worthy object in thy travel:


When thou dost meet good hap; and in thy danger,


Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers,


Upon some book I love Ill pray for thee.


Thats on some shallow story of deep love:


How young Leander crossd the Hellespont.


For he was more than over shoes in love.


Tis true; for you are over boots in love,


Over the boots? nay, give me not the boots.


To be in love, where scorn is bought with groans;


Coy looks with heart-sore sighs; one fading moments mirth


With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights:


If lost, why then a grievous labour won;


So, by your circumstance, you call me fool.


So, by your circumstance, I fear youll prove.


Love is your master, for he masters you:


Methinks, should not be chronicled for wise.


The eating canker dwells, so eating love


And writers say, as the most forward bud


Even so by love the young and tender wit


And all the fair effects of future hopes.


But wherefore waste I time to counsel thee,


Expects my coming, there to see me shippd.


And thither will I bring thee, Valentine.


Sweet Proteus, no; now let us take our leave.


To Milan let me hear from thee by letters


Of thy success in love, and what news else


All happiness bechance to thee in Milan!


As much to you at home! and so, farewell.


He leaves his friends to dignify them more,


I leave myself, my friends and all, for love.


Thou, Julia, thou hast metamorphosed me,


Made me neglect my studies, lose my time,


War with good counsel, set the world at nought;


Made wit with musing weak, heart sick with thought.


Sir Proteus, save you! Saw you my master?


But now he parted hence, to embark for Milan.


Twenty to one then he is shippd already,


And I have playd the sheep in losing him.


You conclude that my master is a shepherd, then,


Why then, my horns are his horns, whether I wake or sleep.


A silly answer and fitting well a sheep.


It shall go hard but Ill prove it by another.


The shepherd seeks the sheep, and not the sheep the


shepherd; but I seek my master, and my master seeks


The sheep for fodder follow the shepherd; the


shepherd for food follows not the sheep: thou for


wages followest thy master; thy master for wages


follows not thee: therefore thou art a sheep.


Such another proof will make me cry baa.


But, dost thou hear? gavest thou my letter to Julia?


Ay sir: I, a lost mutton, gave your letter to her,


a laced mutton, and she, a laced mutton, gave me, a


Heres too small a pasture for such store of muttons.


If the ground be overcharged, you were best stick her.


Nay: in that you are astray, twere best pound you.


Nay, sir, less than a pound shall serve me for


You mistake; I mean the pound,--a pinfold.


From a pound to a pin? fold it over and over,


Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to


You mistook, sir; I say, she did nod: and you ask


Now you have taken the pains to set it together,


No, no; you shall have it for bearing the letter.


Well, I perceive I must be fain to bear with you.


Marry, sir, the letter, very orderly; having nothing


And yet it cannot overtake your slow purse.


Come come, open the matter in brief: what said she?


Open your purse, that the money and the matter may


Well, sir, here is for your pains. What said she?


Truly, sir, I think youll hardly win her.


Why, couldst thou perceive so much from her?


Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from her; no,


not so much as a ducat for delivering your letter:


and being so hard to me that brought your mind, I


fear shell prove as hard to you in telling your


mind. Give her no token but stones; for shes as


No, not so much as Take this for thy pains. To


testify your bounty, I thank you, you have testerned


me; in requital whereof, henceforth carry your


letters yourself: and so, sir, Ill commend you to my master.


Go, go, be gone, to save your ship from wreck,


Being destined to a drier death on shore.


I fear my Julia would not deign my lines,


Receiving them from such a worthless post.


SCENE II. The same. Garden of JULIAs house.


Wouldst thou then counsel me to fall in love?


Ay, madam, so you stumble not unheedfully.


Please you repeat their names, Ill show my mind


What thinkst thou of the fair Sir Eglamour?


As of a knight well-spoken, neat and fine;


But, were I you, he never should be mine.


Well of his wealth; but of himself, so so.


What thinkst thou of the gentle Proteus?


Lord, Lord! to see what folly reigns in us!


How now! what means this passion at his name?


Should censure thus on lovely gentlemen.


Then thus: of many good I think him best.


And wouldst thou have me cast my love on him?


Ay, if you thought your love not cast away.


Why he, of all the rest, hath never moved me.


Yet he, of all the rest, I think, best loves ye.


His little speaking shows his love but small.


Fire thats closest kept burns most of all.


They do not love that do not show their love.


O, they love least that let men know their love.


Valentines page; and sent, I think, from Proteus.


He would have given it you; but I, being in the way,


Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines?


To whisper and conspire against my youth?


Now, trust me, tis an office of great worth


To plead for love deserves more fee than hate.


And yet I would I had oerlooked the letter:


And pray her to a fault for which I chid her.


What a fool is she, that knows I am a maid,


And would not force the letter to my view!


Which they would have the profferer construe ay.


Fie, fie, how wayward is this foolish love


That, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse


When willingly I would have had her here!


When inward joy enforced my heart to smile!


That you might kill your stomach on your meat


Then let it lie for those that it concerns.


Madam, it will not lie where it concerns


Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme.


As little by such toys as may be possible.


Best sing it to the tune of Light o love.


Ay, and melodious were it, would you sing it.


Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out:


And yet methinks I do not like this tune.


And mar the concord with too harsh a descant:


There wanteth but a mean to fill your song.


The mean is drownd with your unruly bass.


This babble shall not henceforth trouble me.


Go get you gone, and let the papers lie:


You would be fingering them, to anger me.


She makes it strange; but she would be best pleased


Nay, would I were so angerd with the same!


O hateful hands, to tear such loving words!


Injurious wasps, to feed on such sweet honey


And kill the bees that yield it with your stings!


Look, here is writ kind Julia. Unkind Julia!


I throw thy name against the bruising stones,


Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain.


Shall lodge thee till thy wound be thoroughly heald;


And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.


But twice or thrice was Proteus written down.


Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away


Till I have found each letter in the letter,


Except mine own name: that some whirlwind bear


And throw it thence into the raging sea!


Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ,


Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus,


Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will.


What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales here?


If you respect them, best to take them up.


Nay, I was taken up for laying them down:


Yet here they shall not lie, for catching cold.


Ay, madam, you may say what sights you see;


I see things too, although you judge I wink.


Tell me, Panthino, what sad talk was that


Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister?


Would suffer him to spend his youth at home,


Put forth their sons to seek preferment out:


Some to the wars, to try their fortune there;


To let him spend his time no more at home,


Which would be great impeachment to his age,


Nor needst thou much importune me to that


Whereon this month I have been hammering.


Not being tried and tutord in the world:


And perfected by the swift course of time.


Then tell me, whither were I best to send him?


Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him thither:


There shall he practise tilts and tournaments,


Hear sweet discourse, converse with noblemen.


Worthy his youth and nobleness of birth.


I like thy counsel; well hast thou advised:


And that thou mayst perceive how well I like it,


I will dispatch him to the emperors court.


To-morrow, may it please you, Don Alphonso,


And to commend their service to his will.


Good company; with them shall Proteus go:


And, in good time! now will we break with him.


Here is her hand, the agent of her heart;


Here is her oath for love, her honours pawn.


O, that our fathers would applaud our loves,


To seal our happiness with their consents!


How now! what letter are you reading there?


Mayt please your lordship, tis a word or two


Deliverd by a friend that came from him.


Lend me the letter; let me see what news.


There is no news, my lord, but that he writes


Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune.


My will is something sorted with his wish.


For what I will, I will, and there an end.


I am resolved that thou shalt spend some time


What maintenance he from his friends receives,


Like exhibition thou shalt have from me.


Look, what thou wantst shall be sent after thee:


No more of stay! to-morrow thou must go.


Thus have I shunnd the fire for fear of burning,


And drenchd me in the sea, where I am drownd.


I feard to show my father Julias letter,


Lest he should take exceptions to my love;


Which now shows all the beauty of the sun,


He is in haste; therefore, I pray you to go.


Why, this it is: my heart accords thereto,


Why, then, this may be yours, for this is but one.


Ha! let me see: ay, give it me, its mine:


Sweet ornament that decks a thing divine!


And yet I was last chidden for being too slow.


Go to, sir: tell me, do you know Madam Silvia?


Marry, by these special marks: first, you have


learned, like Sir Proteus, to wreathe your arms,


like a malecontent; to relish a love-song, like a


robin-redbreast; to walk alone, like one that had


the pestilence; to sigh, like a school-boy that had


lost his A B C; to weep, like a young wench that had


buried her grandam; to fast, like one that takes


diet; to watch like one that fears robbing; to


speak puling, like a beggar at Hallowmas. You were


wont, when you laughed, to crow like a cock; when you


walked, to walk like one of the lions; when you


fasted, it was presently after dinner; when you


looked sadly, it was for want of money: and now you


are metamorphosed with a mistress, that, when I look


on you, I can hardly think you my master.


Without you? nay, thats certain, for, without you


were so simple, none else would: but you are so


without these follies, that these follies are within


you and shine through you like the water in an


urinal, that not an eye that sees you but is a


But tell me, dost thou know my lady Silvia?


She that you gaze on so as she sits at supper?


Hast thou observed that? even she, I mean.


Dost thou know her by my gazing on her, and yet


That she is not so fair as, of you, well-favoured.


I mean that her beauty is exquisite, but her favour infinite.


Thats because the one is painted and the other out


Marry, sir, so painted, to make her fair, that no


How esteemest thou me? I account of her beauty.


You never saw her since she was deformed.


I have loved her ever since I saw her; and still I


Because Love is blind. O, that you had mine eyes;


or your own eyes had the lights they were wont to


have when you chid at Sir Proteus for going


Your own present folly and her passing deformity:


for he, being in love, could not see to garter his


hose, and you, being in love, cannot see to put on your hose.


Belike, boy, then, you are in love; for last


morning you could not see to wipe my shoes.


True, sir; I was in love with my bed: I thank you,


you swinged me for my love, which makes me the


I would you were set, so your affection would cease.


Last night she enjoined me to write some lines to


No, boy, but as well as I can do them. Peace!


[Aside]  O excellent motion! O exceeding puppet!


Madam and mistress, a thousand good-morrows.


[Aside]  O, give ye good even! heres a million of manners.


Sir Valentine and servant, to you two thousand.


[Aside]  He should give her interest and she gives it him.


As you enjoind me, I have writ your letter


Unto the secret nameless friend of yours;


Which I was much unwilling to proceed in


I thank you gentle servant: tis very clerkly done.


Now trust me, madam, it came hardly off;


Perchance you think too much of so much pains?


No, madam; so it stead you, I will write


Please you command, a thousand times as much; And yet--


A pretty period! Well, I guess the sequel;


And yet I will not name it; and yet I care not;


And yet take this again; and yet I thank you,


Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more.


[Aside]  And yet you will; and yet another yet.


What means your ladyship? do you not like it?


Yes, yes; the lines are very quaintly writ;


Ay, ay: you writ them, sir, at my request;


But I will none of them; they are for you;


I would have had them writ more movingly.


Please you, Ill write your ladyship another.


And when its writ, for my sake read it over,


And if it please you, so; if not, why, so.


Why, if it please you, take it for your labour:


As a nose on a mans face, or a weathercock on a steeple!


He being her pupil, to become her tutor.


O excellent device! was there ever heard a better,


That my master, being scribe, to himself should write


How now, sir? what are you reasoning with yourself?


Nay, I was rhyming: tis you that have the reason.


To yourself: why, she wooes you by a figure.


What need she, when she hath made you write to


yourself? Why, do you not perceive the jest?


No believing you, indeed, sir. But did you perceive


And that letter hath she delivered, and there an end.


For often have you writ to her, and she, in modesty,


Or else for want of idle time, could not again reply;


Or fearing else some messenger that might her mind discover,


Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto her lover.


All this I speak in print, for in print I found it.


Ay, but hearken, sir; though the chameleon Love can


feed on the air, I am one that am nourished by my


victuals, and would fain have meat. O, be not like


If you turn not, you will return the sooner.


Keep this remembrance for thy Julias sake.