garter'd, a Fashion fhe detefts: And he will fmile upon her, which will now be fo unfuitable to her Difpofition, being addicted to Melancholy, as fhe is, that it cannot but turn him into a notable Contempt: If you will fee it, fol low me. Sir To. To the Gates, Tartar, thou moft excellent Devil of Wit. Sir And. I'll make one too. [Exeunt. ACT III. SCENE I. SCENE A Garden. Enter Viola and Clown. Vio. SAVE thee, Friend, and thy Mufick: Doft thou live by the Tabor? Clo. No, Sir, I live by the Church. Vio. Art thou a Churchman? Clo. No fuch matter, Sir, I do live by the Church: For I do live at my House, and my House doth ftand by the Church. Vie. So thou may'ft fay the King lyes by a Beggar, if a Beggar dwell near him: Or the Church ftands by thy Ti bor, if thy Tabor ftand by the Church. Clo. You have faid, Sir: To fee this Age! A Sentence is but a chev'ril Glove to a good Wit; how quickly the wrong fide may be turn'd outward. Vio. Nay, that's certain; they that dally nicely with Words, may quickly make them wanton. Clo. I would therefore my Sifter had no Name, Sir. Clo. Why, Sir, her Name's a word, and to dally with Clo. Troth, Sir, I can yield you none without Words, and Words are grown fo false, I am loath to prove Reafor with them. Vio. I warrant thou art a merry Fellow, and careft for nothing. Clo. Not fo, Sir, I do care for fomething; but, in my Confcience, Sir, I do not care for you: If that be to care for nothing, Sir, I would it would make you invisible. Vio. Art not thou the Lady Olivia's Fool? Clo. No indeed, Sir, the Lady Olivia has no Folly, she will keep no Fool, Sir, 'till the be married; and Fools are as like Husbands, as Pilchers are to Herrings, the Husband's the bigger: I am indeed not her Fool, but her corrupter of Words. Vio. I faw thee late at the Duke Orfino's. Clo. Foolery, Sir, he does walk about the Orb like the Sun, it shines every where. I would be forry, Sir, but the Fool fhould be as oft with your Mafter, as with my Mistress: I think I faw your Wisdom there. Vio. Nay, and thou pafs upon me, I'll no more with thee. Hold, there's Expences for thee. Clo. Now Jove, in his next Commodity of Hair, fend thee a Beard. Vio. By my troth, I'll tell thee, I am almoft fick for one, though I would not have it grow on my Chin. Is thy Lady within? Clo. Would not a pair of these have bred, Sir? Vio. Yes, being kept together, and put to use. Cle. I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia, Sir, to bring a Creffida to this Troylus. Vio. I understand you, Sir, 'tis well begg'd. Clo. The matter I hope is not great, Sir; begging, but a Beggar: Creffida was a Beggar. My Lady is within, Sir. I will confter to them whence you come, who you are, and what you would is out of my Welkin, I might fay, Element, but the word is over-worn. [Exit. Vio. This Fellow is wife enough to play the Fool, And to do that well craves a kind of Wit: He muft obferve their Mood on whom he Jefts, The Quality of the Perfons, and the Time; And like the Haggard, check at every Feather That comes before his Eye. This is a practice As full of Labour as a Wife-man's Art: For Folly that he wifely fhews, is fit; But wife Mens Folly fall'n, quite taint their Wit. Sir To. Save you, Gentleman. Vio. And you, Sir. Sir And. Dieu vous guard Monfieur. Vio. Et vous aufi, vostre fervitur. Sir And. I hope, Sir, you are, and I am yours. Sir To. Will you encounter the Houfe, my Neice is defirous fhould enter, you if your Trade be to her, Vio. I am bound to your Neice, Sir; I mean, she is the Lift of my Voyage. 1 Sir To. Tafte your Legs, Sir, put them to motion. Vio. My Legs do better understand me, Sir, than I underftand what you mean by bidding me tafte my Legs. Sir To. I mean to go, Sir, to enter. Vio. I will answer you with Gate and Entrance, but we are prevented. Enter Olivia and Maria. Moft excellent accomplish'd Lady, the Heav'ns rain Odours on you. Sir And. That Youth's a rare Courtier! rain Odours! well. Vio. My Matter hath no Voice, Lady, but to your own moft pregnant and vouchsafed Ear. Sir And. Odours, pregnant and vouchfafed: I'll get 'em all three ready. Oli. Let the Garden Door be fhut, and leave me to my Give me your Hand, Sir. hearing. Exeunt Sir Toby Sir Andrew, and Maria. Vio. Cefario is your Servant's Name, fair Princefs. Vio. And he is yours, and his must needs be yours: Oli. Oli. O, by your leave, I pray you; Oli. Give me leave, I beseech you: I did fend, After the last Enchantment you did hear, A Ring in Chase of you. So did I abuse My felf, my Servant, and I fear me, you; Under your hard Conftruction must I fit, To force that on you in a fhameful cunning Which you knew none of yours. What might you think? Have you not fet mine Honour at the Stake, And baited it with all th'unmuzzled Thoughts That tyrannous Heart can think? To one of your receiving Enough is fhewn, a Cypress, not a Bofom, Hides my poor Heart. So let ine hear you speak. Vio. I pity you. Oli. That's a degree to Love. Vio. No not a grice: For 'tis a vulgar Proof Oli. Why then methinks 'tis time to smile again; [Clock Strikes. The Clock upbraids me with the wafte of Time. Vio. Then Weftward hoe: Grace and good Difpofition attend your Ladyship. Oli. Stay; I prethee tell me what thou think'ft of me? CC 4 Vio. Vio. Would it be better, Madam, than I am? I wish it might, for now I am your Fool. Oli. O what a deal of Scorn looks beautiful, In the Contempt and Anger of his Lip! A murderous Guilt fhews not it felf more foon, Than Love that would feem hid: Love's Night is Noon. By Maid-hood, Honour, Truth, and every thing, Oli. Yet come again; for thou perhaps may'st move [Exeunt. SCENE II. Olivia's House. Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian. Sir And, No faith, I'll not ftay a jot longer. Sir To. Thy Reafon, dear Venom, give thy Reason. Fab. You must needs yield your Reason, Sir Andrew. Sir And. Marry, I faw your Neice do more Favours to the Duke's Serving-man, than ever fhe bestow'd upon me. I faw't i'th' Orchard. Sir To, Did the fee thee the while, old Boy, tell me that? Sir And. As plain as I fee you now. Fab. This was a great Argument of Love in her toward you. Sir And. 'Slight; will you make an Afs o'me? Fab. I prove it legitimate, Sir, upon the Oaths of Judg ment and Reason, |