FESTE Primo, secundo, tertio is a good play, and the old saying is ‘The third pays for all’. The triplex, sir, is a good tripping measure, or the bells of Saint Bennet, sir, may put you in mind—‘one, two, three’.
ORSINO You can fool no more money out of me at this throw. If you will let your lady know I am here to speak with her, and bring her along with you, it may awake my bounty further.
FESTE Marry, sir, lullaby to your bounty till I come again. I go, sir, but I would not have you to think that my desire of having is the sin of covetousness. But as you say, sir, let your bounty take a nap, I will awake it anon.
Exit
Enter Antonio and Officers
VIOLA
Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me.
ORSINO
That face of his I do remember well,
Yet when I saw it last it was besmeared
As black as Vulcan in the smoke of war.
A baubling vessel was he captain of,
For shallow draught and bulk unprizable,
With which such scatheful grapple did he make
With the most noble bottom of our fleet
That very envy and the tongue of loss
Cried fame and honour on him. What’s the matter?
FIRST OFFICER
Orsino, this is that Antonio
That took the Phoenix and her freight from Candy,
And this is he that did the Tiger board
When your young nephew Titus lost his leg.
Here in the streets, desperate of shame and state,
In private brabble did we apprehend him.
VIOLA
He did me kindness, sir, drew on my side,
But in conclusion put strange speech upon me.
I know not what ’twas but distraction.
ORSINO (to Antonio)
Notable pirate, thou salt-water thief,
What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies
Whom thou in terms so bloody and so dear
Hast made thine enemies?
ANTONIO
Orsino, noble sir,
Be pleased that I shake off these names you give me.
Antonio never yet was thief or pirate,
Though, I confess, on base and ground enough
Orsino’s enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither.
That most ingrateful boy there by your side
From the rude sea’s enraged and foamy mouth
Did I redeem. A wreck past hope he was.
His life I gave him, and did thereto add
My love without retention or restraint,
All his in dedication. For his sake
Did I expose myself, pure for his love,
Into the danger of this adverse town,
Drew to defend him when he was beset,
Where being apprehended, his false cunning—
Not meaning to partake with me in danger—
Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,
And grew a twenty years’ removed thing
While one would wink, denied me mine own purse,
Which I had recommended to his use
Not half an hour before.
VIOLA How can this be?
ORSINO When came he to this town?
ANTONIO
Today, my lord, and for three months before,
No int’rim, not a minute’s vacancy,
Both day and night did we keep company.
Enter Olivia and attendants
ORSINO
Here comes the Countess. Now heaven walks on
earth.
But for thee, fellow—fellow, thy words are madness.
Three months this youth hath tended upon me.
But more of that anon. Take him aside.
OLIVIA
What would my lord, but that he may not have,
Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?
Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.
VIOLA Madam—
ORSINO Gracious Olivia—
OLIVIA
What do you say, Cesario? Good my lord—
VIOLA
My lord would speak, my duty hushes me.
OLIVIA
If it be aught to the old tune, my lord,
It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear
As howling after music.
ORSINO Still so cruel?
OLIVIA Still so constant, lord.
ORSINO
What, to perverseness? You uncivil lady,
To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars
My soul the faithfull‘st off’rings hath breathed out
That e’er devotion tendered—what shall I do?
OLIVIA
Even what it please my lord that shall become him.
ORSINO
Why should I not, had I the heart to do it,
Like to th’ Egyptian thief, at point of death
Kill what I love—a savage jealousy
That sometime savours nobly. But hear me this:
Since you to non-regardance cast my faith,
And that I partly know the instrument
That screws me from my true place in your favour,
Live you the marble-breasted tyrant still.
But this your minion, whom I know you love,
And whom, by heaven I swear, I tender dearly,
Him will I tear out of that cruel eye
Where he sits crowned in his master’s spite.
(To Viola) Come, boy, with me. My thoughts are ripe
in mischief.
I’ll sacrifice the lamb that I do love
To spite a raven’s heart within a dove.
VIOLA
And I most jocund, apt, and willingly
To do you rest a thousand deaths would die.
OLIVIA
Where goes Cesario?
VIOLA
After him I love
More than I love these eyes, more than my life,
More by all mores than e’er I shall love wife.
If I do feign, you witnesses above,
Punish my life for tainting of my love.
OLIVIA
Ay me detested, how am I beguiled!
VIOLA
Who does beguile you? Who does do you wrong?
OLIVIA
Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long?
Call forth the holy father. Exit an attendant
ORSINO (to Viola)
Come, away.
OLIVIA
Whither, my lord? Cesario, husband, stay.
ORSINO
Husband?
OLIVIA Ay, husband. Can he that deny?
ORSINO (to Viola)
Her husband, sirrah?
VIOLA
No, my lord, not I.
OLIVIA
Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear
That makes thee strangle thy propriety.
Fear not, Cesario, take thy fortunes up,
Be that thou know‘st thou art, and then thou art
As great as that thou fear’st.
Enter the Priest
O welcome, father.
Father, I charge thee by thy reverence
Here to unfold—though lately we intended
To keep in darkness what occasion now
Reveals before ’tis ripe—what thou dost know
Hath newly passed between this youth and me.
PRIEST
A contract of eternal bond of love,
Confirmed by mutual joinder of your hands,
Attested by the holy close of lips,
Strengthened by interchangement of your rings,
And all the ceremony of this compact
Sealed in my function, by my testimony;
Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave
I have travelled but two hours.
ORSINO (to Viola)
O thou dissembling cub, what wilt thou be
When time hath sowed a grizzle on thy case?
O
r will not else thy craft so quickly grow
That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow?
Farewell, and take her, but direct thy feet
Where thou and I henceforth may never meet.
VIOLA
My lord, I do protest.
OLIVIA
O, do not swear!
Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear.
Enter Sir Andrew
SIR ANDREW For the love of God, a surgeon—send one presently to Sir Toby.
OLIVIA What’s the matter?
SIR ANDREW He’s broke my head across, and has given Sir Toby a bloody coxcomb, too. For the love of God, your help! I had rather than forty pound I were at home.
OLIVIA Who has done this, Sir Andrew?
SIR ANDREW The Count’s gentleman, one Cesario. We took him for a coward, but he’s the very devil incardinate.
ORSINO My gentleman, Cesario?
SIR ANDREW ’Od’s lifelings, here he is. (To Viola) You broke my head for nothing, and that that I did I was set on to do’t by Sir Toby.
VIOLA
Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you.
You drew your sword upon me without cause,
But I bespake you fair, and hurt you not.
Enter Sir Toby and Feste, the clown
SIR ANDREW If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt you have hurt me. I think you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb. Here comes Sir Toby, halting. You shall hear more; but if he had not been in drink he would have tickled you othergates than he did.
ORSINO (to Sir Toby)
How now, gentleman? How is’t with you?
SIR TOBY That’s all one, he’s hurt me, and there’s th’end on’t. (To Feste) Sot, didst see Dick Surgeon, sot?
FESTE O, he’s drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone. His eyes were set at eight i’th’ morning.
SIR TOBY Then he’s a rogue, and a passy-measures pavan.
I hate a drunken rogue.
OLIVIA
Away with him! Who hath made this havoc with them?
SIR ANDREW I’ll help you, Sir Toby, because we’ll be dressed together.
SIR TOBY Will you help—an ass-head, and a coxcomb, and a knave; a thin-faced knave, a gull?
OLIVIA
Get him to bed, and let his hurt be looked to.
Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, Feste, and Fabian
Enter Sebastian
SEBASTIAN (to Olivia)
I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kinsman,
But had it been the brother of my blood
I must have done no less with wit and safety.
You throw a strange regard upon me, and by that
I do perceive it hath offended you.
Pardon me, sweet one, even for the vows
We made each other but so late ago.
ORSINO
One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons,
A natural perspective, that is and is not.
SEBASTIAN
Antonio! O, my dear Antonio,
How have the hours racked and tortured me
Since I have lost thee!
ANTONIO Sebastian are you?
SEBASTIAN Fear’st thou that, Antonio?
ANTONIO
How have you made division of yourself?
An apple cleft in two is not more twin
Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian?
OLIVIA Most wonderfull
SEBASTIAN (seeing Viola)
Do I stand there? I never had a brother,
Nor can there be that deity in my nature
Of here and everywhere. I had a sister,
Whom the blind waves and surges have devoured.
Of charity, what kin are you to me?
What countryman? What name? What parentage?
VIOLA
Of Messaline. Sebastian was my father.
Such a Sebastian was my brother, too.
So went he suited to his watery tomb.
If spirits can assume both form and suit
You come to fright us.
SEBASTIAN A spirit I am indeed,
But am in that dimension grossly clad
Which from the womb I did participate.
Were you a woman, as the rest goes even,
I should my tears let fall upon your cheek
And say ‘Thrice welcome, drowned Viola.’
VIOLA
My father had a mole upon his brow
SEBASTIAN And so had mine.
VIOLA
And died that day when Viola from her birth
Had numbered thirteen years.
SEBASTIAN
O, that record is lively in my soul.
He finished indeed his mortal act
That day that made my sister thirteen years.
VIOLA
If nothing lets to make us happy both
But this my masculine usurped attire,
Do not embrace me till each circumstance
Of place, time, fortune do cohere and jump
That I am Viola, which to confirm
I’ll bring you to a captain in this town
Where lie my maiden weeds, by whose gentle help
I was preserved to serve this noble count.
All the occurrence of my fortune since
Hath been between this lady and this lord.
SEBASTIAN (to Olivia)
So comes it, lady, you have been mistook.
But nature to her bias drew in that.
You would have been contracted to a maid,
Nor are you therein, by my life, deceived.
You are betrothed both to a maid and man.
ORSINO (to Olivia)
Be not amazed. Right noble is his blood.
If this be so, as yet the glass seems true,
I shall have share in this most happy wreck.
(To Viola) Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times
Thou never shouldst love woman like to me.
VIOLA
And all those sayings will I overswear,
And all those swearings keep as true in soul
As doth that orbed continent the fire
That severs day from night.
ORSINO Give me thy hand,
And let me see thee in thy woman’s weeds.
VIOLA
The captain that did bring me first on shore
Hath my maid’s garments. He upon some action
Is now in durance, at Malvolio’s suit,
A gentleman and follower of my lady’s.
OLIVIA
He shall enlarge him. Fetch Malvolio hither—
And yet, alas, now I remember me,
They say, poor gentleman, he’s much distraught.
Enter Feste the clown with a letter, and Fabian
A most extracting frenzy of mine own
From my remembrance clearly banished his.
How does he, sirrah?
FESTE Truly, madam, he holds Beelzebub at the stave’s end as well as a man in his case may do. He’s here writ a letter to you. I should have given’t you today morning. But as a madman’s epistles are no gospels, so it skills not much when they are delivered.
OLIVIA Open’t and read it.
FESTE Look then to be well edified when the fool delivers the madman. (Reads) ‘By the Lord, madam’—
OLIVIA How now, art thou mad?
FESTE No, madam, I do but read madness. An your ladyship will have it as it ought to be you must allow vox.
OLIVIA Prithee, read i’thy right wits.
FESTE So I do, madonna, but to read his right wits is to read thus. Therefore perpend, my princess, and give ear.
OLIVIA (to Fabian) Read it you, sirrah.
Feste gives the letter to Fabian
FABIAN (reads) ‘By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and the world shall know it. Though you have put me into darkness and given your drunken cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my senses as well as your ladyship. I have your own letter that induced me to the semblance I put
on, with the which I doubt not but to do myself much right or you much shame. Think of me as you please. I leave my duty a little unthought of, and speak out of my injury.
The madly-used Malvolio.’
OLIVIA Did he write this?
FESTE Ay, madam.
ORSINO
This savours not much of distraction.
OLIVIA
See him delivered, Fabian, bring him hither.
My lord, so please you—these things further thought
on—
To think me as well a sister as a wife,
One day shall crown th‘alliance on’t, so please you,
Here at my house and at my proper cost.
ORSINO
Madam, I am most apt t’embrace your offer.
(To Viola) Your master quits you, and for your service
done him
So much against the mettle of your sex,
So far beneath your soft and tender breeding,
And since you called me master for so long,
Here is my hand. You shall from this time be
Your master’s mistress.
OLIVIA (to Viola) A sister, you are she.
Enter Malvolio
ORSINO
Is this the madman?
OLIVIA Ay, my lord, this same.
How now, Malvolio?
MALVOLIO Madam, you have done me wrong,
Notorious wrong.
OLIVIA Have I, Malvolio? No.
MALVOLIO (showing a letter)
Lady, you have. Pray you peruse that letter.
You must not now deny it is your hand.
Write from it if you can, in hand or phrase,
Or say ‘tis not your seal, not your invention.
You can say none of this. Well, grant it then,
And tell me in the modesty of honour
Why you have given me such clear lights of favour,
Bade me come smiling and cross-gartered to you,
To put on yellow stockings, and to frown
Upon Sir Toby and the lighter people,
And acting this in an obedient hope,
Why have you suffered me to be imprisoned,
Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest,
And made the most notorious geck and gull
That e’er invention played on? Tell me why?
OLIVIA
Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing,
Though I confess much like the character,
But out of question, ‘tis Maria’s hand.
And now I do bethink me, it was she
First told me thou wast mad; then cam’st in smiling,
And in such forms which here were presupposed
Upon thee in the letter. Prithee be content;
This practice hath most shrewdly passed upon thee,
The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works Page 242
