 | Twelfe Night, or what you will |  |
Scæna prima.
Enter Uiola and Clowne.Vio.
Saue thee Friend and thy Musick: dost thou liue
by thy Tabor?
Clo.
No sir, I liue by the Church.
Vio.
Art thou a Churchman?
Clo.
No such matter sir, I do liue by the Church: For,
I do liue at my house, and my house dooth stand by the
Church.
Vio.
So thou maist say the Kings lyes by a begger, if a
begger dwell neer him: or the Church stands by thy Tabor,
if thy Tabor stand by the Church.
Clo.
You haue said sir: To see this age: A sentence is
but a cheu'rill gloue to a good witte, how quickely the
wrong side may be turn'd outward.
Vio.
Nay that's certaine: they that dally nicely with
words, may quickely make them wanton.
Clo.
I would therefore my sister had had no name Sir.
Vio.
Why man?
Clo.
Why sir, her names a word, and to dallie with
that word, might make my sister wanton: But indeede,
words are very Rascals, since bonds disgrac'd them.
Vio.
Thy reason man?
Throth sir, I can yeeld you none without wordes,
and wordes are growne so false, I am loath to proue reason
with them.
Vio.
I warrant thou art a merry fellow, and car'st for
nothing.
Clo.
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 inuisible.
Uio.
Art not thou the Lady Oliuia's foole?
Clo.
No indeed sir, the Lady Oliuia has no folly, shee
will keepe no foole sir, till she be married, and fooles are
as like husbands, as Pilchers are to Herrings, the Husbands
the bigger, I am indeede not her foole, but hir corrupter
of words.
Vio.
I saw thee late at the Count Orsino's.
Clo.
Foolery sir, does walke about the Orbe like the
Sun, it shines euery where. I would be sorry sir, but the
Foole should be as oft with your Master, as with my Mistris:
I thinke I saw your wisedome there.
Vio.
Nay, and thou passe vpon me, Ile no more with
thee. Hold there's expences for thee.
Clo.
Now Ioue in his next commodity of hayre, send
thee a beard.
Vio.
By my troth Ile tell thee, I am almost sicke for
one, though I would not haue it grow on my chinne. Is
thy Lady within?
Clo
Would not a paire of these haue bred sir?
Vio.
Yes being kept together, and put to vse.
Clo.
I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia sir, to bring
a Cressida to this Troylus.
Vio.
I vnderstand you sir, tis well begg'd.
Clo.
The matter I hope is not great sir; begging, but a
begger: Cressida was a begger. My Lady is within sir. I
will conster 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 ouer-worne.
exit
Vio.
This fellow is wise enough to play the foole,
And to do that well, craues a kinde of wit:
He must obserue their mood on whom he iests,
The quality of persons, and the time:
And like the Haggard, checke at euery Feather
That comes before his eye. This is a practice,
As full of labour as a Wise-mans Art:
For folly that he wisely shewes, is fit;
But wisemens folly falne, quite taint their wit.
Enter Sir Toby and Andrew.
To.
Saue you Gentleman.
Uio.
And you sir.
And.
Dieu vou guard Monsieur.
Vio.
Et vouz ousie vostre seruiture.
An.
I hope sir, you are, and I am yours.
To.
Will you incounter the house, my Neece is desirous
you should enter, if your trade be to her.
Vio.
I am bound to your Neece sir, I meane she is the
list of my voyage.
To.
Taste your legges sir, put them to motion.
Vio.
My legges do better vnderstand me sir, then I vnderstand
what you meane by bidding me taste my legs.
To.
I meane to go sir, to enter.
Vio.
I will answer you with gate and entrance, but we
are preuented.
Most excellent accomplish'd Lady, the heauens raine Odours
on you.
And.
That youth's a rare Courtier, raine odours, wel.
Vio.
My matter hath no voice Lady, but to your owne
most pregnant and vouchsafed eare.
And.
Odours, pregnant, and vouchsafed: Ile get 'em
all three already.
Ol.
Let the Garden doore be shut, and leaue mee to
my hearing. Giue me your hand sir.
Uio.
My dutie Madam, and most humble seruice
Ol.
What is your name?
Vio.
Cesario is your seruants name, faire Princesse.
Ol.
My seruant sir? 'Twas neuer merry world,
Since lowly feigning was call'd complement:
y'are seruant to the Count Orsino youth.
Vio.
And he is yours, and his must needs be yours:
your seruants seruant, is your seruant Madam.
Ol.
For him, I thinke not on him: for his thoughts,
Would they were blankes, rather then fill'd with me.
Vio.
Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts
On his behalfe.
Ol.
O by your leaue I pray you.
I bad you neuer speake againe of him;
But would you vndertake another suite
I had rather heare you, to solicit that,
Then Musicke from the spheares.
Vio.
Deere Lady.
Ol.
Giue me leaue, beseech you: I did send,
After the last enchantment you did heare,
A Ring in chace of you. So did I abuse
My selfe, my seruant, and I feare me you:
Vnder your hard construction must I sit,
To force that on you in a shamefull cunning
Which you knew none of yours. What might you think?
Haue you not set mine Honor at the stake,
And baited it with all th'vnmuzled thoughts
That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiuing
Enough is shewne, a Cipresse, not a bosome,
Hides my heart: so let me heare you speake.
Vio.
I pittie you.
Ol.
That's a degree to loue.
Vio.
No not a grize: for tis a vulgar proofe
That verie oft we pitty enemies.
Ol.
Why then me thinkes 'tis time to smile agen:
O world, how apt the poore are to be proud?
If one should be a prey, how much the better
To fall before the Lion, then the Wolfe?
Clocke strikes.
The clocke vpbraides me with the waste of time:
Be not affraid good youth, I will not haue you,
And yet when wit and youth is come to haruest,
your wife is like to reape a proper man:
There lies your way, due West.
Vio.
Then Westward hoe:
Grace and good disposition attend your Ladyship:
you'l nothing Madam to my Lord, by me:
Ol.
Stay: I prethee tell me what thou thinkst of me?
Vio.
That you do thinke you are not what you are.
Ol.
If I thinke so, I thinke the same of you.
Uio.
Then thinke you right: I am not what I am.
Ol.
I would you were, as I would haue you be.
Vio.
Would it be better Madam, then I am?
I wish it might, for now I am your foole.
Ol.
O what a deale of scorne, lookes beautifull?
In the contempt and anger of his lip,
A murdrous guilt shewes not it selfe more soone,
Then loue that would seeme hid: Loues night, is noone.
Cesario, by the Roses of the Spring,
By maid-hood, honor, truth, and euery thing,
I loue 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;
Loue sought, is good: but giuen vnsought is better.
Uio.
By innocence I sweare, and by my youth,
I haue one heart, one bosome, and one truth,
And that no woman has, nor neuer none
Shall mistris be of it, saue I alone.
And so adieu good Madam, neuer more,
Will I my Masters teares to you deplore.
Ol.
Yet come againe: for thou perhaps mayst moue
That heart which now abhorres, to like his loue.
Exeunt
| Twelfe Night, or what you will | |