 | Twelfe Night, or what you will |  |
Scœna Quarta.
Enter Oliuia and Maria.Ol.
I haue sent after him, he sayes hee'l come:
How shall I feast him? What bestow of him?
For youth is bought more oft, then begg'd, or borrow'd.
I speake too loud: Where's Maluolio, he is sad, and ciuill,
And suites well for a seruant with my fortunes,
Where is Maluolio?
Mar.
He's comming Madame:
But in very strange manner. He is sure possest Madam.
Ol.
Why what's the matter, does he raue?
Mar.
No Madam, he does nothing but smile: your Ladyship
were best to haue some guard about you, if hee
come, for sure the man is tainted in's wits.
Ol.
Go call him hither.
Enter Maluolio.
I am as madde as hee,
If sad and merry madnesse equall bee.
How now Maluolio?
Mal.
Sweet Lady, ho, ho.
Ol.
Smil'st thou? I sent for thee vpon a sad occasion.
Mal.
Sad Lady, I could be sad:
This does make some obstruction in the blood:
This crosse-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 please all.
Mal.
Why how doest thou man?
What is the matter with thee?
Mal.
Not blacke in my mindel, though yellow in my
legges: It did come to his hands, and Commaunds shall
be executed. I thinke we doe know the sweet Romane
hand.
Ol.
Wilt thou go to bed Maluolio?
Mal.
To bed? I sweet heart, and Ile come to thee.
Ol.
God comfort thee: Why dost thou smile so, and
kisse thy hand so oft?
Mar.
How do you Maluolio?
Maluo.
At your request:
Yes Nightingales answere Dawes.
Mar.
Why appeare you with this ridiculous boldnesse
before my Lady.
Mal.
Be not afraid of greatnesse: 'twas well writ.
Ol.
What meanst thou by that Maluolio?
Mal.
Some are borne great.
Ol.
Ha?
Mal.
Some atcheeue greatnesse.
Ol.
What sayst thou?
Mal.
And some haue greatnesse thrust vpon them.
Ol.
Heauen restore thee.
Mal.
Remember who commended thy yellow stockings.
Ol.
Thy yellow stockings?
Mal.
And wish'd to see thee crosse garter'd.
Ol.
Crosse garter'd?
Mal.
Go too, thou art made, if thou desir'st to be so.
Ol.
Am I made?
Mal.
If not, ler me see thee a seruant still.
Ol.
Why this is verie Midsommer madnesse.
Enter Seruant.
Ser.
Madame, the young Gentleman of the Count
Orsino's is return'd, I could hardly entreate him backe: he
attends your Ladyships pleasure.
Ol.
Ile come to him.
Good Maria, let this fellow be lookd too. Where's my
Cosine Toby, let some of my people haue a speciall care
of him, I would not haue him miscarrie for the halfe of
my Dowry.
exit
Mal.
Oh ho, do you come neere me now: no worse
man then sir Toby to looke to me. This concurres directly
with the Letter, she sends him on purpose, that I may
appeare stubborne to him for she incites me to that in
the Letter. Cast thy humble slough sayes she: be opposite
with a Kinsman, surly with seruants, let thy tongue
langer with arguments of state, put thy selfe into the
tricke of singularity: and consequently setts downe the
manner how: as a sad face, a reuerend carriage, a slow
tongue, in the habite of some Sir of note, and so foorth.
I haue lymde her, but it is Ioues doing, and Ioue make me
thankefull. And when she went away now, let this Fellow
be look'd too: Fellow? not Maluolio, nor after my
degree, but Fellow. Why euery thing adheres togither,
that no dramme of a scruple, no scruple of a scruple, no
obstacle, no incredulous or vnsafe circumstance: What
can be saide? Nothing that can be, can come betweene
me, and the full prospect of my hopes. Well Ioue, not I,
is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked.
Enter Toby, Fabian, and Maria.
Which way is hee in the name of sanctity. If all
the diuels of hell be drawne in little, and Legion himselfe
possest him, yet Ile speake to him.
Fab.
Heere he is, heere he is: how ist with you sir?
How ist with you man?
Mal.
Go off, I discard you: let me enioy my priuate:
go off.
Mar.
Lo, how hollow the fiend speakes within him;
did not I tell you? Sir Toby, my Lady prayes you to haue
a care of him.
Mal.
Ah ha, does she so?
To.
Go too, go too: peace, peace, wee must deale
gently with him: Let me alone. How do you Maluolio?
How ist with you? What man, defie the diuell: consider,
he's an enemy to mankinde.
Mal.
Do you know what you say?
Mar.
La you, and you speake ill of the diuell, how
he takes it at heart. Pray God he be not bewitch'd.
Fab.
Carry his water to th'wise woman.
Mar.
Marry and it shall be done to morrow morning
if I liue. My Lady would not loose him for more then ile
say.
Mal.
How now mistris?
Mar.
Oh Lord.
To.
Prethee hold thy peace, this is not the way: Doe
you not see you moue him? Let me alone with him.
Fa.
No way but gentlenesse, gently, gently: the Fiend
is rough, and will not be roughly vs'd.
To.
Why how now my bawcock? how dost y
u chuck?
Mal.
Sir.
To.
I biddy, come with me. What man, tis not for
grauity to play at cherrie-pit with sathan Hang him foul
Colliar.
Mar.
Get him to say his prayers, good sir Toby gette
him to pray.
Mal.
My prayers Minx.
Mar.
No I warrant you, he will not heare of godlynesse.
Mal.
Go hang your selues all: you are ydle shallowe
things, I am not of your element, you shall knowe more
heereafter.
Exit
To.
Ist possible?
Fa.
If this were plaid vpon a stage now, I could condemne
it as an improbable fiction.
To
His very genius hath taken the infection of the
deuice man.
Mar.
Nay pursue him now, least the deuice take ayre,
and taint.
Fa.
Why we shall make him mad indeede.
Mar.
The house will be the quieter.
To.
Come, wee'l haue him in a darke room & bound.
My Neece is already in the beleefe that he's mad: we may
carry it thus for our pleasure, and his pennance, til our very
pastime tyred out of breath, prompt vs to haue mercy
on him: at which time, we wil bring the deuice to the bar
and crowne thee for a finder of madmen: but see, but see.
Enter Sir Andrew.
Fa.
More matter for a May morning.
An.
Heere's the Challenge, reade it: I warrant there's
vinegar and pepper in't.
Fab.
Ist so sawcy?
And.
I, ist? I warrant him: do but read.
To.
Giue me.
Youth, whatsoeuer thou art, thou art but a scuruy fellow.
Fa.
Good, and valiant.
To.
Wonder not, nor admire not in thy minde why I doe call
thee so, for I will show thee no reason for't.
Fa.
A good note, that keepes you from the blow of y
e Law
To.
Thou comst to the Lady Oliuia, and in my sight she vses
thee kindly: but thou lyest in thy throat, that is not the
matter
I challenge thee for.
Fa.
Very breefe, and to exceeding good sence-lesse.
To.
I will way-lay thee going home, where if it be thy chaunce
to kill me.
Fa.
Good.
To.
Thou kilst me like a rogue and a villaine.
Fa.
Still you keepe o'th windie side of the Law: good.
Tob.
Fartheewell, and God haue mercie vpon one of our
soules. He may haue mercie vpon mine, but my hope is better,
and so looke to thy selfe. Thy friend as thou vsest him, & thy
sworne enemie, Andrew Ague-cheeke.
To.
If this Letter moue him not, his legges cannot:
Ile giu't him.
Mar.
Yon may haue verie fit occasion fot't: he is now
in some commerce with my Ladie, and will by and by
depart.
To.
Go sir Andrew: scout mee for him at the corner
of the Orchard like a bum-Baylie: so soone as euer thou
seest him, draw, and as thou draw'st, sweare horrible: for
t comes to passe oft, that a terrible oath, with a swaggering
accent sharpely twang'd off, giues manhoode more
approbation, then euer proofe it selfe would haue earn'd
him. Away.
And.
Nay let me alone for swearing.
Exit
To.
Now will not I deliuer his Letter: for the behauiour
of the yong Gentleman, giues him out to be of good
capacity, and breeding: his employment betweene his
Lord and my Neece, confirmes no lesse. Therefore, this
Letter being so excellently ignorant, will breed no terror
in the youth: he will finde it comes from a Clodde-pole.
But sir, I will deliuer his Challenge by word of mouth;
set vpon Ague-cheeke a notable report of valor, and driue
the Gentleman (as I know his youth will aptly receiue it)
into a most hideous opinion of his rage, skill, furie, and
impetuositie. This will so fright them both, that they wil
kill one another by the looke, like Cockatrices.
Enter Oliuia and Viola.
Fab.
Heere he comes with your Neece, giue them way
till he take leaue, and presently after him.
To.
I wil meditate the while vpon some horrid message
for a Challenge.
Ol.
I haue said too much vnto a hart of stone,
And laid mine honour too vnchary on't:
There's something in me that reproues my fault:
But such a head-strong potent fault it is,
That it but mockes reproofe.
Vio.
With the same hauiour that your passion beares,
Goes on my Masters greefes.
Ol.
Heere, weare this Iewell for me, tis my picture:
Refuse it not, it hath no tongue, to vex you:
And I beseech you come againe to morrow.
What shall you aske of me that Ile deny,
That honour (sau'd) may vpon asking giue.
Uio.
Nothing but this, your true loue for my master.
Ol.
How with mine honor may I giue him that,
Which I haue giuen to you.
Vio.
I will acquit you.
Ol.
Well-come againe to morrow: far-thee-well,
A Fiend like thee might beare my soule to hell.
Enter Toby and Fabian.
To.
Gentleman, God saue thee.
And you sir.
To.
That defence thou hast, betake the too't: of what
nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I knowe not:
but thy intercepter full of despight, bloody as the Hunter,
attends thee at the Orchard end: dismount thy tucke,
be yare in thy preparation, for thy assaylant is quick, skilfull,
and deadly.
Vio.
You mistake sir I am sure, no man hath any quarrell
to me: my remembrance is very free and cleere from
any image of offence done to any man.
To.
You'l finde it otherwise I assure you: therefore, if
you hold your life at any price, betake you to your gard:
for your opposite hath in him what youth, strength, skill,
and wrath, can furnish man withall.
Vio.
I pray you sir what is he?
To.
He is knight dubb'd with vnhatch'd Rapier, and
on carpet consideration, but he is a diuell in priuate brall,
soules and bodies hath he diuorc'd three, and his incensement
at this moment is so implacable, that satisfaction
can be none, but by pangs of death and sepulcher: Hob,
nob, is his word: giu't or take't.
Vio.
I will returne againe into the house, and desire
some conduct of the Lady. I am no fighter, I haue heard
of some kinde of men, that put quarrells purposely on others,
to taste their valour: belike this is a man of that
quirke.
To.
Sir, no: his indignation deriues it selfe out of a very
computent iniurie, therefore get you on, and giue him
his desire. Backe you shall not to the house, vnlesse you
vndertake that with me, which with as much safetie you
might answer him: therefore on, or strippe your sword
starke naked: for meddle you must that's certain, or forsweare
to weare iron about you.
Vio.
This is as vnciuill as strange. I beseech you doe
me this courteous office, as to know of the Knight what
my offence to him is: it is something of my negligence,
nothing of my purpose.
To.
I will doe so. Signiour Fabian, stay you by this
Gentleman, till my returne.
Vio.
Pray you sir, do you know of this matter?
Fab.
I know the knight is incenst against you, euen to
a mortall arbitrement, but nothing of the circumstance
more.
Vio.
I beseech you what manner of man is he?
Fab.
Nothing of that wonderfull promise to read him
by his forme, as you are like to finde him in the proofe of
his valour. He is indeede sir, the most skilfull, bloudy, &
fatall opposite that you could possibly haue found in anie
part of Illyria: will you walke towards him, I will make
your peace with him, if I can.
Vio.
I shall bee much bound to you for't: I am one,
that had rather go with sir Priest, then sir knight: I care
not who knowes so much of my mettle.
Exeunt.
Enter Toby and Andrew.
To.
Why man hee s a verie diuell, I haue not seen such
a firago: I had a passe with him, rapier, scabberd, and all:
and he giues me the stucke in with such a mortall motion
that it is ineuitable: and on the answer, he payes you as
surely, as your feete hits the ground they step on. They
say, he has bin Fencer to the Sophy.
And.
Pox on't, Ile not meddle with him.
To.
I but he will not now be pacified,
Fabian can scarse hold him yonder.
An.
Plague on't, and I thought he had beene valiant,
and so cunning in Fence, I'de haue seene him damn'd ere
I'de haue challeng'd him. Let him let the matter slip, and
Ile giue him my horse, gray Capilet.
To.
Ile make the motion: stand heere, make a good
shew on't, this shall end without the perdition of soules,
marry Ile ride your horse as well as I ride you.
I haue his horse to take vp the quarrell, I haue perswaded
him the youths a diuell.
Fa.
He is as horribly conceited of him: and pants, &
lookes pale, as if a Beare were at his heeles.
To.
There's no remedie sir, he will fight with you for's
oath sake: marrie hee hath better bethought him of his
quarrell, and hee findes that now scarse to bee worth talking
of: therefore draw for the supportance of his vowe,
he protests he will not hurt you.
Vio.
Pray God defend me: a little thing Would make
me tell them how much I lacke of a man.
Fab.
Giue ground if you see him furious.
To.
Come sir Andrew, there's no remedie, the Gentleman
will for his honors sake haue one bowt with you:
he cannot by the Duello auoide it: but hee has promised
me, as he is a Gentleman and a Soldiour, he will not hurt
you. Come on, too't.
And.
Pray God he keepe his oath.
Enter Antonio.
Vio.
I do assure you tis against my will.
Ant.
Put vp your sword: if this yong Gentleman
Haue done offence, I take the fault on me:
If you offend him, I for him defie you.
To.
You sir? Why, what are you?
Ant.
One sir, that for his loue dares yet do more
Then you haue heard him brag to you he will.
To.
Nay, if you be an vndertaker, I am for you.
Enter Officers.
Fab.
O good sir Toby hold: heere come the Officers.
To.
Ile be with you anon.
Vio.
Pray sir, put your sword vp if you please.
And.
Marry will I sir: and for that I promis'd you Ile
be as good as my word. Hee will beare you easily, and
raines well.
1. Off.
This is the man, do thy Office.
2. Off.
Anthonio, I arrest thee at the suit of Count Orsino
An.
You do mistake me sir.
1. Off.
No sir, no iot: I know your fauour well:
Though now you haue no sea-cap on your head:
Take him away, he knowes I know him well.
Ant.
I must obey. This comes with seeking you:
But there's no remedie, I shall answer it:
What will you do: now my necessitie
Makes me to aske you for my purse. It greeues mee
Much more, for what I cannot do for you,
Then what befals my selfe: you stand amaz'd,
But be of comfort.
2 Off.
Come sir away.
Ant.
I must entreat of you some of that money.
Vio.
What money sir?
For the fayre kindnesse you haue shew'd me heere,
And part being prompted by your present trouble,
Out of my leane and low ability
Ile lend you something: my hauing is not much,
Ile make diuision of my present with you:
Hold, there's halfe my Coffer.
Ant.
Will you deny me now,
Ist possible that my deserts to you
Can lacke perswasion. Do not tempt my misery,
Least that it make me so vnsound a man
As to vpbraid you with those kindnesses
Vio.
I know of none,
Not know I you by voyce, or any feature:
I hate ingratitude more in a man,
Then lying, vainnesse, babling drunkennesse,
Or any taint of vice, whose strong corruption
Inhabites our fraile blood.
Ant.
Oh heauens themselues.
2. Off.
Come sir, I pray you go.
Ant.
Let me speake a little. This youth that you see heere,
I snatch'd one halfe out of the iawes of death,
Releeu'd him with such sanctitie of loue;
And to his image, which me thought did promise
Most venerable worth, did I deuotion.
1. Off.
What's that to vs, the time goes by: Away.
Ant.
But oh, how vilde an idoll proues this God:
Thou hast Sebastian done good feature, shame.
In Nature, there's no blemish but the minde:
None can be call'd deform'd, but the vnkinde.
Vertue is beauty, but the beauteous euill
Are empty trunkes, ore-flourish'd by the deuill.
1. Off.
The man growes mad, away with him:
Come, come sir.
Ant.
Leade me on.
Exit
Vio.
Me thinkes his words do from such passion flye
That he beleeues himselfe, so do not I:
Proue true imagination, oh proue ttue,
That I deere brother, be now tane for you.
To.
Come hither Knight, come hither Fabian: Weel
whisper ore a couplet or two of most sage sawes.
Vio.
He nam'd Sebastian: I my brother know
Yet liuing in my glasse: euen such, and so
In fauour was my Brother, and he went
Still in this fashion, colour, ornament,
For him I imitate: Oh if it proue,
Tempests are kinde, and salt waues fresh in loue.
To.
A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward
then a Hare, his dishonesty appeares, in leauing his frend
heere in necessity, and denying him: and for his cowardship
aske Fabian.
Fab.
A Coward, a most deuout Coward, religious in
it.
And.
Slid Ile after him againe, and beate him.
To.
Do, cuffe him soundly, but neuer draw thy sword
And.
And I do not.
Fab.
Come, let's see the euent.
To.
I dare lay any money, twill be nothing yet.
Exit
| Twelfe Night, or what you will | |