Complete Plays, The

by William Shakespeare

Fool, I’ll requite it in the highest degree: I prithee, be gone.

  Clown

  [Singing]

  I am gone, sir,

  And anon, sir,

  I’ll be with you again,

  In a trice,

  Like to the old Vice,

  Your need to sustain;

  Who, with dagger of lath,

  In his rage and his wrath,

  Cries, ah, ha! to the devil:

  Like a mad lad,

  Pare thy nails, dad;

  Adieu, good man devil.

  Exit

  SCENE III. OLIVIA’S GARDEN.

  Enter Sebastian

  Sebastian

  This is the air; that is the glorious sun;

  This pearl she gave me, I do feel’t and see’t;

  And though ’tis wonder that enwraps me thus,

  Yet ’tis not madness. Where’s Antonio, then?

  I could not find him at the Elephant:

  Yet there he was; and there I found this credit,

  That he did range the town to seek me out.

  His counsel now might do me golden service;

  For though my soul disputes well with my sense,

  That this may be some error, but no madness,

  Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune

  So far exceed all instance, all discourse,

  That I am ready to distrust mine eyes

  And wrangle with my reason that persuades me

  To any other trust but that I am mad

  Or else the lady’s mad; yet, if ’twere so,

  She could not sway her house, command her followers,

  Take and give back affairs and their dispatch

  With such a smooth, discreet and stable bearing

  As I perceive she does: there’s something in’t

  That is deceiveable. But here the lady comes.

  Enter Olivia and Priest

  Olivia

  Blame not this haste of mine. If you mean well,

  Now go with me and with this holy man

  Into the chantry by: there, before him,

  And underneath that consecrated roof,

  Plight me the full assurance of your faith;

  That my most jealous and too doubtful soul

  May live at peace. He shall conceal it

  Whiles you are willing it shall come to note,

  What time we will our celebration keep

  According to my birth. What do you say?

  Sebastian

  I’ll follow this good man, and go with you;

  And, having sworn truth, ever will be true.

  Olivia

  Then lead the way, good father; and heavens so shine,

  That they may fairly note this act of mine!

  Exeunt

  ACT V

  SCENE I. BEFORE OLIVIA’S HOUSE.

  Enter Clown and Fabian

  Fabian

  Now, as thou lovest me, let me see his letter.

  Clown

  Good Master Fabian, grant me another request.

  Fabian

  Any thing.

  Clown

  Do not desire to see this letter.

  Fabian

  This is, to give a dog, and in recompense desire my dog again.

  Enter Duke Orsino, Viola, Curio, and Lords

  Duke Orsino

  Belong you to the Lady Olivia, friends?

  Clown

  Ay, sir; we are some of her trappings.

  Duke Orsino

  I know thee well; how dost thou, my good fellow?

  Clown

  Truly, sir, the better for my foes and the worse for my friends.

  Duke Orsino

  Just the contrary; the better for thy friends.

  Clown

  No, sir, the worse.

  Duke Orsino

  How can that be?

  Clown

  Marry, sir, they praise me and make an ass of me; now my foes tell me plainly I am an ass: so that by my foes, sir I profit in the knowledge of myself, and by my friends, I am abused: so that, conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives make your two affirmatives why then, the worse for my friends and the better for my foes.

  Duke Orsino

  Why, this is excellent.

  Clown

  By my troth, sir, no; though it please you to be one of my friends.

  Duke Orsino

  Thou shalt not be the worse for me: there’s gold.

  Clown

  But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I would you could make it another.

  Duke Orsino

  O, you give me ill counsel.

  Clown

  Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this once, and let your flesh and blood obey it.

  Duke Orsino

  Well, I will be so much a sinner, to be a double-dealer: there’s another.

  Clown

  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.

  Duke 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.

  Clown

  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

  Viola

  Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me.

  Enter Antonio and Officers

  Duke Orsino

  That face of his I do remember well;

  Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmear’d

  As black as Vulcan in the smoke of war:

  A bawbling vessel was he captain of,

  For shallow draught and bulk unprizable;

  With which such scathful 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 fraught 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.

  Duke Orsino

  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,

&nb
sp; Which I had recommended to his use

  Not half an hour before.

  Viola

  How can this be?

  Duke Orsino

  When came he to this town?

  Antonio

  To-day, my lord; and for three months before,

  No interim, not a minute’s vacancy,

  Both day and night did we keep company.

  Enter Olivia and Attendants

  Duke 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!

  Duke 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.

  Duke Orsino

  Still so cruel?

  Olivia

  Still so constant, lord.

  Duke Orsino

  What, to perverseness? you uncivil lady,

  To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars

  My soul the faithfull’st offerings hath breathed out

  That e’er devotion tender’d! What shall I do?

  Olivia

  Even what it please my lord, that shall become him.

  Duke Orsino

  Why should I not, had I the heart to do it,

  Like to the Egyptian thief at point of death,

  Kill what I love?— a savage jealousy

  That sometimes 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.

  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.

  Duke Orsino

  Come, away!

  Olivia

  Whither, my lord? Cesario, husband, stay.

  Duke Orsino

  Husband!

  Olivia

  Ay, husband: can he that deny?

  Duke Orsino

  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 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 pass’d between this youth and me.

  Priest

  A contract of eternal bond of love,

  Confirm’d by mutual joinder of your hands,

  Attested by the holy close of lips,

  Strengthen’d by interchangement of your rings;

  And all the ceremony of this compact

  Seal’d in my function, by my testimony:

  Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave

  I have travell’d but two hours.

  Duke Orsino

  O thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be

  When time hath sow’d a grizzle on thy case?

  Or 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 has 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.

  Duke Orsino

  My gentleman, Cesario?

  Sir Andrew

  ’Od’s lifelings, here he is! 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 bespoke you fair, and hurt you not.

  Sir Andrew

  If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me: I think you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb.

  Enter Sir Toby Belch and Clown

  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.

  Duke Orsino

  How now, gentleman! how is’t with you?

  Sir Toby Belch

  That’s all one: has hurt me, and there’s the end on’t. Sot, didst see Dick surgeon, sot?

  Clown

  O, he’s drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyes were set at eight i’ the morning.

  Sir Toby Belch

  Then he’s a rogue, and a passy measures panyn: 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 well be dressed together.

  Sir Toby Belch

  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 look’d to.

  Exeunt Clown, Fabian, Sir Toby Belch, and Sir Andrew

  Enter Sebastian

  Sebastian

  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.

  Duke 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 rack’d 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 wonderful!

  Sebastian

  Do I stand there? I never had a brother;

  Nor can there be that deity in my nature,

  Of here and every where. I had a sister,

  Whom the blind waves and surges have devour’d.

  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 number’d 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 usurp’d 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 betroth’d both to a maid and man.

  Duke Orsino

  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