Page images
PDF
EPUB

numbers. Away, go; they say, there is divinity in odd numbers, either in nativity, chance, or death. - Away. Quick. I'll provide you a chain; and I'll do what I can to get you a pair of horns.

parts: be pold,I pray you; follow me into the pit, and
when I give you the watch'ords, do as I pid you ; come
come; trib, trib.
[Exeunt.

Fal. Away, I say; time wears: hold up your head, SCENE V.- Another part of the Park. and mince! [Exit Mrs Quickly. Enter FALSTAFF disguised, with a buck's head on. Enter FORD. Fal. The Windsor bell hath struck twelve; the miHow now, master Brook ?Master Brook, the matter will nute draws on. Now, the hot-blooded gods assist me! be known to-night, or never. Be you in the park about-Remember, Jove, thou wast a bull for thy Europa; midnight, atHernes' oak, and you shall see wonders. Ford. Went you not to her yesterday, sir, as you told me you had appointed?

love set on thy horns.-O,powerful love! that,in some respects, makes a beast a man; in some other, a man a beast.-You were also, Jupiter, a swan, for the love Fal. I went to her, master Brook, as you see, like a of Leda;-0, omnipotent love! how near the god drew poor old man: but I came from her, master Brook, like to the complexion of a goose! A fault done first in apoor old woman. That same knave, her husband, hath the form of a beast ;-0, Jove,a beastly fault! and then the finest mad devil of jealousy in him, master Brook, another fault in the semblance of a fowl; think on't, that ever governed frenzy. I will tell you.-He beat me Jove; a foul fault. When gods have hot backs, what grievously, in the shape of a woman; for in the shape shall poor men do ? For me, I am here a Windsor stag, of man,master Brook,İ fear not Goliath with a weaver's and the fattest, I think, i' the forest: send me a cool beam; because I know also, life is a shuttle. I am in rut-time,Jove, or who can blame me to piss my tallow? haste; go along with me; I'll tell you all, master Brook.-Who comes here? my doe? Since I plucked geese, played truant, and whipped top, I knew not what it was to be beaten, till lately. Follow me: I'll tell you strange things of this knave Ford; on whom to-night I will be revenged, and I will deliver his wife into your hand.-Follow; strange things in hand, niaster Brook! follow. [Exeunt.

[blocks in formation]

Shal. That's good too: but what needs either your mum, or her budget? the white will decipher her well enough. It hath struck ten o'clock.

Page. The night is dark; light and spirits will become it well. Heaven prosper our sport! No man means evil but the devil,and we shall know him by his horns. Let's away; follow me!

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-The street in Windsor. Enter Mrs PAGE, Mrs FORD, and Dr CAIUS. Mrs Page. Master doctor, my daughter is in green: when you see your time, take her by the hand, away with her to the deanery, and despatch it quickly! Go before into the park; we two must go together. Caius. Iknew vat I have to do; adieu! Mrs Page. Fare you well, sir. [Exit Caius.]-My husband will not rejoice so much at the abuse of Falstaff, as he will chafe at the doctor's marrying my daughter: but 'tis no matter; better a little chiding, than a great deal of heartbreak.

Mrs Ford. Where is Nan now, and her troop of fairies? and the Welch devil, Hugh?

Mrs Page. They are all couched in a pit hard by
Herne's oak, with obscured lights; which, at the very
instant of Falstaff's and our meeting, they will at once
display to the night.

Mrs Ford. That cannot choose but amaze him.
Mrs Page. If he be not amazed, he will be mocked;
if he be amazed, he will every way be mocked.
Mrs Ford. We'll betray him finely.

Mrs Page. Against such lewdsters, and their lechery,
Those that betray them do no treachery.
Mrs Ford. The hour draws on; to the oak, to the oak!

SCENEIV.-Windsor Park.

[Exeunt.

Enter Mrs FORD and Mrs PAGE. Mrs Ford. Sir John? art thou there, my deer? my male deer?

Fal. My doe with the black scut? - Let the sky rain potatoes; let it thunder to the tune of Green Sleeves; hail kissing-comfits, and snow eringoes; let there come a tempest of provocation, I will shelter me here. [Embracing her.

Mrs Ford. Mistress Page is come with me, sweetheart. Fal. Divide me like a bribe-buck, each a haunch: I will keep my sides to myself, my shoulders for the fellow of this walk, and my horns I bequeath to your husbands. Am I a woodman? ha! Speak I like Herne the hunter?-Why,now is Cupid a child of conscience; he makes restitution. As I am a true spirit, welcome! [Noise within.

Mrs Ford.

Mrs Page. Alas! what noise? Mrs Ford. Heaven forgive our sins! Fal. What should this be? Away, away. Mrs Page.S [They run off. Fal. I think the devil will not have me damned, lest the oil that is in me should set hell on fire; he would never else cross me thus.

Enter Sir HUGH EVANS, like a satyr; Mrs QUICKLY, and
PISTOL; ANNE PAGE, as the Fairy Queen, attended by
her brother and others, dressed like Fairies, with
waxen tapers on their heads.

Quick. Fairies, black, grey, green, and white,
You moon-shine revellers, and shades of night,
You orphan-heirs of fixed destiny,
Attend your office, and your quality! -
Crier Hobgoblin, make the fairy o-yes!
Pist. Elves, list your names; silence, you airy toys!
Cricket, to Windsor chimnies shalt thou leap:
Where fires thou find'st unrak'd, and hearths unswept,
There pinch the maids as blue as bilberry:
Our radiant queen hates sluts, and sluttery.
Fal.They are fairies; he that speaks to them,shall die:
I'll wink and couch: no man their works must eye.
[Lies down upon his face.

Eva. Where's Pede?-Go you, and where you find
a maid,

That, ere she sleep, has thrice her prayers said,
Raise up the organs of her fantasy,
Sleep she as sound as careless infancy;
But those as sleep, and think not on their sins,
Pinch them, arms, legs, backs, shoulders, sides, and
Quick. About, about;

Search Windsor castle, elves, within and out:
Strew good luck, ouphes, on every sacredroom,

Enter Sir HUGH EVANS, and Fairies,
Eva. Trib, trib, fairies; come; and remember your That it may stand till the perpetual doom,

shins.

In state as wholesome, as in state 'tis fit;
Worthy the owner, and the owner it.
The several chairs of order look you scour
With juice of balm, and every precious flower :
Each fair instalment, coat, and several crest,
With loyal blazon, evermore be blest!
And nightly, meadow-fairies, look, you sing,
Like to the Garter's compass, in a ring:
The expressure that it bears, green let it be,
More fertile-fresh than all the field to see;
And, Hony soit qui mal y pense, write,

In emerald tufts, flowers, purple, blue, and white;
Like sapphire, pearl, and rich embroidery,
Buckled below fair knight-hood's bending knee:
Fairies use flowers for their charactery.
Away; disperse! But, till 'tis one o' clock,
Our dance of custom, round about the oak
Of Herne the hunter, let us not forget!

Eva. Pray you, lock hand in hand; yourselves in or

der set:

And twenty glow-worms shall our lanterns be,
To guide our measure round about the tree.
But, stay; Ismell a man of middle earth.

Fal. Heavens defend me from that Welch fairy! les he transform me to a piece of cheese!

Pist. Vile worm, thou wast o'er-look'd even in thy
birth.

Quick. With trial-fire touch me his finger-end :
If he be chaste, the flame will back descend,
And turn him to no pain; but if he start,

It is the flesh of a corrupted heart.

Pist. A trial, come.

Eva. Come, will this wood take fire?

Fal. Oh, oh, oh!

[They burn him with their tapers.

Quick. Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire!
About him, fairies; sing a scornful rhyme:
And as you trip, still pinch him to your time.

to master Brook: his horses are arrested for it, master Brook.

Mrs Ford. Sir John, we have had ill luck; we could never meet. I will never take you for my love again,but I will always count you my deer.

Fal. I do begin to perceive that I am made an ass. Ford. Ay, and an ox too; both the proofs are extant. Fal. And these are not fairies? I was three or four times in the thought, they were not fairies: and yet the guiltiness of my mind, the sudden surprise of my powers drove the grossness of the foppery into a received belief, in despite of the teeth of all rhyme and reason, that they were fairies. See now,how wit may be made a Jack-a-lent, when 'tis upon ill employment! Eva. Sir John Falstaff, serve Got, and leave your desires, aud fairies will not pinse you.

Ford. Well said, fairy Hugh.

Eva. And leave you your jealousies too, I pray you. Ford. I will never mistrust my wife again, till thou art able to woo her in good English.

Fal.Have I laid my brain in the sun,and dried it,that it wants matter to prevent so gross o'er-reaching as this? Am I ridden with a Welch goat too? Shall I have a coxcomb of frize? 'tis time I were choaked with a piece of toasted cheese.

Eva. Seese is not good to give putter; your pelly is all putter.

Fal. Seese and putter! have I lived to stand at the taunt of one that makes fritters of English? This is enough to be the decay of lust and late-walking, through the realm.

Mrs Page. Why, sir John, do you think, though we would have thrust virtue out of our hearts by the head and shoulders, and have given ourselves without scruple to hell, that ever the devil could have made you our delight?

Ford. What, a hodge-pudding? a bag of flax?
Mrs Page. A puffed man?

Eva. It is right; indeed he is full of lecheries and Page. Old, cold,withered,and of intolerable entrails? iniquity.

SONG.

Fye on sinful fantasy!

Fye on lust and luxury!

Lust is but a bloody fire,

Kindled with unchaste desire,

Fed in heart; whose flames aspire,

As thoughts do blow them, higher and higher.
Pinch him, fairies, mutually;

Pinch him for his villainy;

Ford. And one that is as slanderous as Satan?
Page. And as poor as Job?

Ford. And as wicked as his wife?

Eva. And given to fornications, and to taverns, and sack, and wine, and metheglins, and to drinkings, and swearings, and starings, pribbles, and prabbles? Fal.Well,I am your theme:you have the start of me ;I am dejected;I am not able to answer the Welch flannel: ignorance itself is a plummet o'er me:use me as you will! Ford. Marry, sir, we'll bring you to Windsor, to one Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about, master Brook, that you have cozened of money, to Till candles, and star-light, and moonshine be out. whom you should have been a pander: over and above During this song, the fairies pinch Falstaff. Doctothat you have suffered,I think,to repay that money will Caius comes one way, and steals away a fairy in green; Slender another way, and takes off a fairy in white: and Fenton comes, and steals away Mrs Anne Page. A noise of hunting is made within. All the fairies run away. Falstaff pulls off his buck's head, and rises.

Enter PAGE, FORD, Mrs PAGE, and Mrs FORD. They lay hold of him.

Page. Nay, do not fly! I think, we have watch'd you

now:

Will none but Herne the hunter serve your turn?
Mrs Page. I pray you, come; hold up the jest no
higher!-

Now, good sir John, how like you Windsor wives?
See you these, husband? do not these fair yokes
Become the forest better than the town?

be a biting affliction.

Mrs Ford. Nay, husband, let that go to make amends: Forgive that sum, and so we'll all be friends. Ford. Well, here's my hand; all's forgiven at last. Page. Yet be cheerfull, knight: thou shalt eat a posset to-night at my house; where I will desire thee to laugh at my wife, that now laughs at thee. Tell her, master Slender hath married her daugther.

Mrs Page. Doctors doubt that: if Anne Page be my daugther, she is, by this, doctor Caius' wife. [Aside.

Enter SLENder.

Slen. Whoo, ho! ho! father Page!

Page. Son! how now? how now, son? have you despatched?

Slen. Despatched! - I'll make the best in Glocestershire know on't; would I were hanged, la, else. Page. Of what, son?

Ford. Now,sir,who's a cuckold now?-Master Brook, Falstafl's a knave, a cuckoldly knave; here are his Slen. I came yonder at Eton to marry mistress Anne horns, master Brook: and, master Brook, he hath en- Page, and she's a great lubberly boy: if it had not been joyed nothing of Ford's but his buck-basket, his cud-i' the church, I would have swinged him, or he gel, and twenty pounds of money; which must be paid should have swinged me. If I did not think it had been

Anne Page, would I might never stir, and 'tis a postmaster's boy.

had him.

Page. Why, this is your own folly. Did not I tell you, how you should know my daughter by her garments? Slen. I went to her in white, and cry'd mum, and she cry'd budget, as Anne and I had appointed; and yet it was not Anne, but a postmaster's boy.

Mrs Page. Why went you not with master doctor, maid?

Page. Upon my life then you took the wrong.
Fent. You do amaze her: hear the truth of it!
Slen. What need you tell me that? I think so, when You would have married her most shamefully,
I took a boy for a girl. If I had been married to him, | Where there was no proportion held in love.
for all he was in woman's apparel, I would not have The truth is, She and I, long since contracted,
Are now so sure, that nothing can dissolve us.
The offence is holy, that she hath committed:
And this deceit loses the name of craft,
of disobedience, or unduteous title;
Since therein she doth evitate and shun
A thousand irreligious cursed hours,
Which forced marriage would have brought upon her.
Ford. Stand not amazed; here is no remedy;
In love, the heavens themselves do guide the state;
Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate.
Fal. I am glad, though you have ta'en a special stand
to strike at me, that your arrow hath glanced.
Page. Well, what remedy? Fenton, heaven give thee
joy!

Eva. Jeshu! Master Slender, cannot you see but marry boys?

Page. O, I am vexed at heart: what shall I do? Mrs Page. Good George, be not angry: I knew of your purpose; turned my daughter into green; and, indeed, she is now with the doctor at the deanery, and

there married.

Enter CAIUS.

Caius. Vere is mistress Page? By gar, I am cozened; I ha' married un garçon, a boy; un paisan, by gar, a boy; it is not Anue Page: by gar, I am cozened. Mrs Page. Why, did you take her in green? Caius. Ay, be gar, and 'tis a boy: be gar, I'll raise all Windsor. [Exit Caius. Ford. This is strange! Who hath got the right Anne? Page. My heart misgives me. Here comes master Fenton.

Enter FENTON and ANNE PAGE.

How now, master Fenton ?

-

[blocks in formation]

Anne. Pardon, good father! good my mother,pardon! To master Brook you yet shall hold your word; Page. Now, mistress? how chance you went not with For he, to-night, shall lie with mistress Ford.

master Slender?

[Exeunt.

[blocks in formation]

SCENE I. — An apartment in the Duke's palace.
Enter DUKE, CURIO, Lords; Musicians attend-
ing.

Duke. If music be the food of love, play,on,
Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.
That strain again; — it had a dying fall:
O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south,
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing, and giving odour.-Enough;
'Tis not so sweet now, as it was before.
O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou!
That, nothwithstanding thy capacity

no more;

Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,
Of what validity and pitch soever,
But falls into abatement and low price,
Even in a minute! so full of shapes is fancy,
That it alone is high-fantastical.

Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord?
Duke. What, Curio?

[blocks in formation]

Enter VALENTINE.

Val. 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,
And water once a-day her chamber round
With eye-offending brine: all this, to season
A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh,
And lasting, in her sad remembrance.

Duke. 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 kill'd the flock of all affections else
That live in her! when liver, brain, and heart,
These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and fill'd
(Her sweet perfections) with one self-king!
Away before me to sweet beds of flowers!
Love-thoughts lie rich, when canopied with bowers.
[Exeunt.

[ocr errors]

The Sea-coast.

SCENE II.-
Enter VIOLA, Captain, and Sailors.

Vio. What country, friends, is this?
Cap. Illyria, lady.

Vio. And what should I do in Illyria?
My brother he is in Elysium.

Perchance he is not drown'd.-What think you,sailors?
Cap. It is perchance, that you yourself were saved.
Vio. O my poor brother! and so, perchance, may
he be.

Cap. True, madam: and, to comfort you with chance,
Assure yourself, after our ship did split,
When you, and that poor number saved with you,
Hung an our driving boat, I saw your brother,
Most provident in peril, bind himself

(Courage and hope both teaching him the practice)
To a strong mast that lived upon the sea;
Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back,
I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves,
So long as I could see.

Vio. For saying so, there's gold:

Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,
Whereto thy speech serves for authority,

The like of him. Know'st thou this country?

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

Not three hours travel from this very place.
Vio. Who governs here?

Cap. A noble duke, in nature,

As in his name.

Vio. What is his name?

Cap. Orsino.

Vio. Orsino! I have heard my father name him: He was a bachelor then.

Cap. And so is now,

Or was so very late: for but a month

Ago I went from hence; 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.

Vio. What's she?

Cap. 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,
They say, she hath abjured the company
And sight of men.

Vio. O, that I served that lady:

And might not be delivered to the world,

Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,

What my estate is.

Cap. That were hard to compass; Because she will admit no kind of suit, No, not the duke's.

Vio. There is a fair behaviour 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 pray thee, and I'll pay thee bounteously,
Conceal me what I am, and be
my aid
For such disguise as, haply, shall become
The form of my intent. I'll serve this duke;
Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him,
It may be worth thy pains; for I can sing,
And speak to him in many sorts of music,
That will allow me very worth his service.
What else may hap, to time I will commit;
Only shape thou thy silence to my wit.

Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be:
When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see!
Vio. I thank thee. Lead me on!
[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

A room in Olivia's house.
Enter Sir TOBY BELCH, and MARIA.

Sir To. What a plague means my niece, to take the death of her brother thus? I am sure, care's an enemy to life.

Mar. By my troth, sir Toby, you must come in earceptions to your ill hours. lier o'nights; your cousin, my lady, takes great ex

Sir To. Why, let her except before excepted. Mar. Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest limits of order.

Sir. To. Confine? I'll confiue 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 themselves in their own straps.

Mar. 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.

Sir. To. Who? Sir Andrew Ague-cheek?

Mar. Ay, he.

Sir To. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria.
Mar. What's that to the purpose?

Sir. To. Why, he has three thousand ducats
a-year.
Mar. Ay; but he'll have but a year in all these du-
cats; he's a very fool, and a prodigal.

Sir. To. Fye, that you'll say so! he plays o' the viol-de-gambo, and speaks three or four languages, word for word, without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature.

Mar. He hath, indeed,- almost natural: for, besides that he's a fool, he's 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.

Sir To. By this hand, they are scoundrels, and substractors, that say so of him. Who are they?

Mar. They that add, moreover, he's drunk nightly in your company.

Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece; I'll drink to her, as long as there is a passage in my throat, and will not drink to my niece, till his brains turn o' the drink in Illyria. He's a coward, and a coystril, that toe like a parish top. What, wench? Castiliano vulgo; for here comes Sir Andrew Ague-face.

Enter Sir ANDREW AGUe-cheek.

Sir And. Sir Toby Belch! how now, sir Toby Belch?
Sir To. Sweet sir Audrew!

Sir And. Bless you, fair shrew!

Mar. And you too, sir!

Sir To. Accost, sir Andrew, accost!

Sir And. What's that?

Sir To. My niece's chamber-maid.

Sir And. Good mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance.

Mar. My name is Mary, sir.

Sir. And. Good mistress Mary Accost,

Sir To. You mistake, kuight: accost is, front her, board her, woo her, assail her.

Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake her in this company. Is that the meaning of accost?

Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen.

Sir To. An thou let part so, sir Andrew, 'would thou might'st never draw sword again.

Sir And. An you part so, mistress, I would I might| never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think you have fools in hand?

Mar. Sir, I have not you by the hand.

Sir And. Marry, but you shall have: and here's my hand.

Mar. Now, sir, thought is free: I pray you, bring your hand to the buttery-bar, and let it drink.

Sir And. Wherefore, sweet heart? what's your me-
Mar. It's dry, sir.
taphor?
Sir And. Why, I think so; I am not such an ass, but
I can keep my hand dry. But what's your jest?
Mar. A dry jest, sir.

Sir And. Are you full of them?

Mar. Ay, sir; I have them at my fingers ends': marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren. [Exit Maria. Sir To. O knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary! When did I see thee so put down?

Sir And. 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.

Sir To. No question.

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.

Sir And. Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent well in a flame-coloured stock. Shall we set about some revels?

Sir To. What shall we do else? were we not born under Taurus?

Sir And. Taurus? that's sides and heart. Sir To. No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let me see thee caper: ha! higher: ha, ha! excellent! [Exeunt.

SCENE IV. -- A room in the Duke's palace.
Enter VALENTINE, and VIOLA in man's attire.
Val. 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.
Vio. You either fear his humour, or my negligence,
that you
call in question the continuance of his love.
Is he inconstant, sir, in his favours?
Val. No, believe me.

Enter Duke, CURIO, and Attendants.
Vio. Ithank you. Here comes the count.
Duke. Who saw Cesario, ho?

Vio. On your attendance, my lord; here.
Duke. Stand you awhile aloof. - Cesario,
Thou know'st no less but all; I have unclasp'd
To thee the book even of my secret soul:
Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her;
Be not deny'd access, stand at her doors,
And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow,

Sir And. An I thought that, I'd forswear it. I'll Till thou have audience. ride home to-morrow, sir Toby.

Sir To. Pourquoy, my dear knight!

Sir And. What is pourquoy? 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 followed the arts!

Sir To. Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair.

Sir And. Why, would that have mended my hair? Sir To. Past question; for thou seest, it will not curl by nature.

Sir And. But it becomes me well enough, does't not? Sir To. Excellent: it hangs like flax on a distaff; and I hope to see a housewife take thee between her legs, and spin it off.

Vio. Sure, my noble lord,

If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow,
As it is spoke, she never will admit me.

Duke. Be clamorous, and leap all civil bounds,
Rather than make unprofited return!
Vio. Say, I do speak with her, my lord; what then?
Duke. O, then unfold the passion of my love,
Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith:
It shall become thee well to act my woes;
She will attend it better in thy youth,
Than in a nuncio of more grave aspect.
Vio. Ithink not so, my lord.
Duke. Dear lad, believe it!
For they shall yet belie thy happy years,
That say, thou art a man: Diana's lip

Sir And. 'Faith, I'll home to-morrow, sir Toby: Is not more smooth, and rubious; thy small pipe
your niece will not be seen; or, if she be, it's four to Is as the maiden's organ, shrill, and sound,
one she'll none of me: the count himself, here hard | And all is semblative a woman's part.
by, wooes her.

Sir To. She'll none o' the count; she'll not match above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; I have heard her swear it. Tut, there's life in't, man. Sir And. I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o' the strangest mind i' the world; I delight in masques and revels sometimes altogether.

Sir To. Art thou good at these kickshaws, knight? Sir And. As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be, under the degree of my betters; and yet I will not compare with an old man.

Sir To. What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight?
Sir And. 'Faith, I can cut a caper.
Sir To. And I can cut the mutton to't.
Sir And. And, I think, I have the back-trick, sim-
ply as strong as any man in Illyria.

Sir To. Wherefore are these things hid? wherefore have these gifts a curtain before them? are they like to take dust, like mistress Mall's picture? why dost

I know, thy constellation is right apt
For this affair. Some four, or five, attend him;
All, if you will; for I myself am best,
When least in company. - Prosper well in this,
And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord,
To call his fortunes thine.

Vio. I'll do my best,

To woo your lady: yet, [Aside.] a barful strife!
Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife. [Exeunt.

SCENE V.-A room in Olivia's house.

Enter MARIA, and Clown. Mar. 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 ab

sence.

Clo. Let her hang me! he, that is well hanged in this world, needs to fear no colours. Mar. Make that good!

« PreviousContinue »