Sivut kuvina

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 Rodorigo; 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 the sea," was my sister drowned. Ant. Alas, the day! Seb. 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, over-far believe that, yet thus far I will boldly publish her, she bore a mind that envy could but call fair: she is drowned already, sir, with salt water, though I seem to drown her remembrance again with more. Ant. Pardon me, sir, your bad entertainment. Seb. O, good Antonio, forgive me your trouble. Ant. If you will not murder me for my love, let me be your servant. Seb. 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 Orsino's court : farewell. [Erit. Ant. The gentleness of all the gods go with thee! I have many enemies in Orsino's court, Else would I very shortly see thee there: But, come what may, I do adore thee so, That danger shall seem sport, and I will go. . [Erit.

A Street.

Enter Viola; MAlvolio following.

Mal. Were not you even now with the countess Olivia? Vio. Even now, sir; on a moderate pace I have since arrived but hither. Mal. 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 lord’s taking of this. Receive it so. Vio. She took the ring of me?—I’ll none of it. Mal. Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her; and her will is, it should be so returned: if it be worth stooping for, there it lies in your eye; if not, be it his that finds it. [Erit. Vio. I left no ring with her : What means this lady ? Fortune forbid, my outside have not charm'd 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 Invites me in this churlish messenger. None of my lord’s ring ! why, he sent her none.— I am the man;–If it be so, (as 'tis,) Poor lady, she were better love a dream. Disguise, I see, thou art a wickedness, Wherein the pregnant" enemy does much. How easy is it, for the proper-false” In women's waxen hearts to set their forms' Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we ; For, such as we are made of, such we be. How will this fadge?' My master loves her dearly; And I, poor monster, fond as much on him; And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me : What will become of this As I am man, My state is desperate for my master's love; As I am woman, now alas the day ! What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathet

the breach of the sea,] i. e. What we now call the breaking of the sea. Sreevens. * — estimable wonder, i. e. Esteeming wonder—Johnson.

y pregnant—) i. e. Crafty, full of arts. * proper-false—] i. e. Comely, well-looking false persons.—Nanes.

*—fadge?] Suit, fit. 2 D

O time, thou must entangle this, not I;
It is too hard a knot for me to untie. [Erit.


A Room in Olivia's House. Enter Sir To BY BE Lch and Sir ANDREw AGU e-cHEEK.

Sir To. Approach, sir Andrew : not to be a-bed after midnight, is to be up betimes; and diluculo surgere," thou know'st, Sir And. Nay, by my troth, I know not: but I know, to be up late, is to be up late. Sir To. 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. Do not our lives consist of the four elements? Sir And. 'Faith, so they say; but, I think, it rather consists of eating and drinking. Sir To. Thou art a scholar; let us therefore eat and drink.-Marian, I say ! a stoop” of wine.

Enter Clown.

Sir And. Here comes the fool, i'faith. Clo. How now, my hearts 2 Did you never see the picture of we three ?" Sir To. Welcome ass. Now let's have a catch. Sir And. 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 Wapians passing the equinoctial of Queubus; ’twas very good, i'faith. I sent thee sixpence for thy leman: Hadst it?

MAlone. c gallon. d the picture of we three?]—Alluding to the common print of we three loggerheads be. e breast.] Was formerly used for voice. f I sent thee sirpence for thy leman;] i. e. Mistress.

diluculo surgere, Saluberrimum est: an adage in Lilly's Grammar.—

a stoop 1. A stoop seems to have been something more than half a

Clo. I did impeticos thy gratillity; for Malvolio's nose is no whipstock: My lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses. Sir And. Excellent! Why, this is the best fooling, when all is done. Now, a song. Sir To. Come on; there is sixpence for you: let's have a song. Sir And. There's a testril of me, too: if one knight give a o Would you have a love-song, or a song of good ife? Sir To. A love-song, a love-song. Sir And. Ay, ay; I care not for good life.


Clo. O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O, stay and hear; your true love's coming,
That can sing both high and low:
Trip no further, pretty sweeting,
Journeys end in lovers' meeting,
Every wise man's son doth know.

Sir And. Excellent good, i'faith.
Sir To. Good, good.

Clo. What is love? 'tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What's to come, is still unsure;
In delay there lies no plenty;
Then come kiss me, sweet-and-twenty,
Youth's a stuff will not endure.

Sir And. A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight. Sir To. A contagious breath. Sir And. Very sweet and contagious, i'faith. Sir To. To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in contagion. But shall we make the welkin dance" indeed? Shall we - s I did impeticos thy gratility; for Malvolio's nose is no whipstock;] This nonsensical sentence is designedly unintelligible and intended to ridicule the prevailing euphonism of the day—impeticos may mean to impetticoat—gratillity rouse the night-owl in a catch, that will draw three souls out of one weaver ?" shall we do that? Sir And. An you love me, let's do’t: I am dog at a catch. Clo. By’r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well. Sir And. Most certain: let our catch be, Thou knave. Clo. Hold thy peace, thou knave, knight? I shall be constrain’d in't to call thee knave, knight. Sir And. "Tis not the first time I have constrained one to call me knave. Begin fool; it begins, Hold thy peace. Clo. I shall never begin, if I hold my peace. Sir And, Good, i'faith ! Come, begin. [They sing a catch. Enter MARIA.

may mean gratuity, as the editors suppose. F_ make the relkin dance—] That is, drink till the sky seems to turn


Mar. What a catterwauling do you keep here ! If my lady have not called up her steward, Malvolio, and bid him turn you out of doors, never trust me. Sir To. My lady's a Cataian, we are politicians; Malvolio's a Peg-a-Ramsay," and Three merry men be we. Am not I consanguineous? am not I of her blood 2 Tilly-valley, lady ?" There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady, lady! [Singing. Clo. Beshrew me, the knight's in admirable fooling. Sir And, 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 more natural. Sir To. O, the twelfth day of December, [Singing. Mar. For the love o'God, peace.

Enter MALvolio. Mal. My masters are you mad? or what are you? Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty, but to gabble like tinkers at this time of night ! Do ye make an alehouse of my lady's house, that ye squeak out your coziers” catches

three souls out of one weaver?]—By the three souls is meant all his souls, namely, vegetative, sensitive, and reasonable, according to the scholastic philosophy.—A weaver is mentioned as one particularly fond of music, their trade being sedentary gave them an opportunity of practising, and sometimes in parts, while they were at work.-FARM ER and Na Res.

k — Peg-a-Ramsay,) An old and indecent song.—Percy.

| Tilly-valley, lady!] Tilly-valley was an interjection of contempt;-from titivi litium. Lat.—STE Eve Ns.

ru. cozier—l A tailor, or botcher.

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