Shakespeare - First Folio facsimile (1910)/Twelfe Night/Act 5 Scene 1

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search

Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.


Enter Clowne and Fabian.

Fab.
Now as thou lou'st me, let me see his Letter.

Clo.
Good M. Fabian, grant me another request.

Fab.
Any thing.

Clo.
Do not desire to see this Letter.

Fab.
This is to giue a dogge, and in recompence desire
my dogge againe.

Enter Duke, Viola, Curio, and Lords.

Duke.
Belong you to the Lady Oliuia, friends?

Clo.
I sir, we are some of her trappings.

Duke.
I know thee well: how doest thou my good Fellow?

Clo.
Truely sir, the better for my foes, and the worse
for my friends.

Du.
Iust the contrary: the better for thy friends.

Clo.
No sir, the worse.

Du.
How can that be?

Clo.
Marry sir, they praise me, and make an asse of me,
now my foes tell me plainly, I am an Asse: so that by my
foes sir, I profit in the knowledge of my selfe, and by my
friends I am abused: so that conclusions to be as kisses, if
your foure negatiues make your two affirmatiues, why
then the worse for my friends, and the better for my foes.

Du.
Why this is excellent.

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

Du.
Thou shalt not be the worse for me, there's gold.

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

Du.
O you giue me ill counsell.

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

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

Clo.
Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play, and the olde
saying is, the third payes for all: the triplex sir, is a good
tripping measure, or the belles of S. Bennet sir, may put
you in minde, one, two, three.

Du.
You can foole no more money out of mee 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.

Clo.
Marry sir, lullaby to your bountie till I come agen.
I go sir, but I would not haue you to thinke, that
my desire of hauing is the sinne of couetousnesse: but as
you say sir, let your bounty take a nappe, I will awake it
Exit.anon.

Enter Anthonio and Officers.

Vio.
Here comes the man sir, that did rescue mee.

Du.
That face of his I do remember well,
Yet when I saw it last, it was besmear'd
As blacke as Vulcan, in the smoake of warre:
A bawbling Vessell was he Captaine of,
For shallow draught and bulke vnprizable,
With which such scathfull grapple did he make,
With the most noble bottome of our Fleete,
That very enuy, and the tongue of losse
Cride fame and honor on him: What's the matter?

1.Offi.
Orsino, this is that Anthonio
That tooke the Phoenix, and her fraught from Candy,
And this is he that did the Tiger boord,
When your yong Nephew Titus lost his legge;
Heere in the streets, desperate of shame and state,
In priuate brabble did we apprehend him.

Vio.
He did me kindnesse sir, drew on my side,
But in conclusion put strange speech vpon me,
I know not what 'twas, but distraction.

Du.
Notable Pyrate, thou salt-water Theefe,
What foolish boldnesse brought thee to their mercies,
Whom thou in termes so bloudie, and so deere
Hast made thine enemies?

Ant.
Orsino: Noble sir,
Be pleas'd that I shake off these names you giue mee:
Anthonio neuer yet was Theefe, or Pyrate,
Though I confesse, on base and ground enough
Orsino's enemie. A witchcraft drew me hither:
That most ingratefull boy there by your side,
From the rude seas enrag'd and foamy mouth
Did I redeeme: a wracke past hope he was:
His life I gaue him, and did thereto adde
My loue without retention, or restraint,
All his in dedication. For his sake,
Did I expose my selfe (pure for his loue)
Into the danger of this aduerse Towne,
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 twentie yeeres remoued thing
While one would winke: denide me mine owne purse,
Which I had recommended to his vse,
Not halfe an houre before.

Vio.
How can this be?

Du.
When came he to this Towne?

Ant.
To day my Lord: and for three months before,
No intrim, not a minutes vacancie,
Both day and night did we keepe companie.
Enter Oliuia and attendants.

Du.
Heere comes the Countesse, now heauen walkes on earth:
But for thee fellow, fellow thy words are madnesse,
Three monthes this youth hath tended vpon mee,
But more of that anon. Take him aside.

Ol.
What would my Lord, but that he may not haue,
Wherein Oliuia may seeme seruiceable?
Cesario, you do not keepe promise with me.

Vio.
Madam:

Du.
Gracious Oliuia.

Ol.
What do you say Cesario? Good my Lord.

Vio.
My Lord would speake, my dutie hushes me.

Ol.
If it be ought to the old tune my Lord,
It is as fat and fulsome to mine eare
As howling after Musicke.

Du.
Still so cruell?

Ol.
Still so constant Lord.

Du.
What to peruersenesse? you vnciuill Ladie
To whose ingrate, and vnauspicious Altars
My soule the faithfull'st offrings haue breath'd out
That ere deuotion tender'd. What shall I do?

Ol.
Euen what it please my Lord, that shal becom him

Du.
Why should I not, (had I the heart to do it)
Like to th' Egyptian theefe, at point of death
Kill what I loue: (a sauage iealousie,
That sometime sauours nobly) but heare me this:
Since you to non-regardance cast my faith,
And that I partly know the instrument
That screwes me from my true place in your fauour:
Liue you the Marble-brested Tirant still.
But this your Minion, whom I know you loue,
And whom, by heauen I sweare, I tender deerely,
Him will I teare out of that cruell eye,
Where he sits crowned in his masters spight.
Come boy with me, my thoughts are ripe in mischiefe:
Ile sacrifice the Lambe that I do loue,
To spight a Rauens heart within a Doue.

Vio.
And I most iocund, apt, and willinglie,
To do you rest, a thousand deaths would dye.

Ol.
Where goes Cesario?

Vio.
After him I loue,
More then I loue these eyes, more then my life,
More by all mores, then ere I shall loue wife.
If I do feigne, you witnesses aboue
Punish my life, for tainting of my loue.

Ol.
Aye me detested, how am I beguil'd?

Vio.
Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong?

Ol.
Hast thou forgot thy selfe? Is it so long?
Call forth the holy Father.

Du.
Come, away.

Ol.
Whether my Lord? Cesario, Husband, stay.

Du.
Husband?

Ol.
I Husband. Can he that deny?

Du.
Her husband, sirrah?

Vio.
No my Lord, not I.

Ol.
Alas, it is the basenesse of thy feare,
That makes thee strangle thy propriety:
Feare not Cesario, take thy fortunes vp,
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 reuerence
Heere to vnfold, though lately we intended
To keepe in darkenesse, what occasion now
Reueales before 'tis ripe: what thou dost know
Hath newly past, betweene this youth, and me.

Priest.
A Contract of eternall bond of loue,
Confirm'd by mutuall ioynder of your hands,
Attested by the holy close of lippes,
Strengthned by enterchangement of your rings,
And all the Ceremonie of this compact
Seal'd in my function, by my testimony:
Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my graue
I haue trauail'd but two houres.

Du.
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 quickely grow,
That thine owne trip shall be thine ouerthrow:
Farewell, and take her, but direct thy feete,
Where thou, and I (henceforth) may neuer meet.

Vio.
My Lord, I do protest.

Ol.
O do not sweare,
Hold little faith, though thou hast too much feare.

Enter Sir Andrew.

And.
For the loue of God a Surgeon, send one presently to sir Toby

Ol.
What's the matter?

And.
H'as broke my head acrosse, and has giuen Sir
Toby a bloody Coxcombe too: for the loue of God your
helpe, I had rather then forty pound I were at home.

Ol.
Who has done this sir Andrew?

And.
The Counts Gentleman, one Cesario: we tooke
him for a Coward, but hee's the verie diuell, incardinate.

Du.
My Gentleman Cesario?

And.
Odd's lifelings heere he is: you broke my head
for nothing, and that that I did, I was set on to do't by sir
Toby.

Vio.
Why do you speake to me, I neuer hurt you:
You drew your sword vpon me without cause,
But I bespake you faire, and hurt you not.

Enter Toby and Clowne.

And.
If a bloody coxcombe be a hurt, you haue hurt
me: I thinke you set nothing by a bloody Coxecombe.
Heere comes sir Toby halting, you shall heare more: but if
he had not beene in drinke, hee would haue tickel'd you
other gates then he did.

Du.
How now Gentleman? how ist with you?

To.
That's all one, has hurt me, and there's th' end on't:
Sot, didst see Dicke Surgeon, sot?

Clo.
O he's drunke sir Toby an houre agone: his eyes
were set at eight i'th morning.

To.
Then he's a Rogue, and a passy measures pauyn: I
hate a drunken rogue.

Ol.
Away with him? Who hath made this hauocke with them?

And.
Ile helpe you sir Toby, because we'll be drest together.

To.
Will you helpe an Asse-head, and a coxcombe, &
a knaue: a thin fac'd knaue, a gull?

Ol.
Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd too.

Enter Sebastian.

Seb.
I am sorry Madam I haue hurt your kinsman:
But had it beene the brother of my blood,
I must haue done no lesse with wit and safety.
You throw a strange regard vpon me, and by that
I do perceiue it hath offended you:
Pardon me (sweet one) euen for the vowes
We made each other, but so late ago.

Du.
One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons,
A naturall Perspectiue, that is, and is not.

Seb.
Anthonio: O my deere Anthonio,
How haue the houres rack'd, and tortur'd me,
Since I haue lost thee?

Ant.
Sebastian are you?

Seb.
Fear'st thou that Anthonio?

Ant.
How haue you made diuision of your selfe,
An apple cleft in two, is not more twin
Then these two creatures. Which is Sebastian?

Ol.
Most wonderfull.

Seb.
Do I stand there? I neuer had a brother:
Nor can there be that Deity in my nature
Of heere, and euery where. I had a sister,
Whom the blinde waues and surges haue deuour'd:
Of charity, what kinne are you to me?
What Countreyman? What name? What Parentage?

Vio.
Of Messaline: Sebastian was my Father,
Such a Sebastian was my brother too:
So went he suited to his watery tombe:
If spirits can assume both forme and suite,
You come to fright vs.

Seb.
A spirit I am indeed,
But am in that dimension grossely clad,
Which from the wombe I did participate.
Were you a woman, as the rest goes euen,
I should my teares let fall vpon your cheeke,
And say, thrice welcome drowned Viola.

Vio.
My father had a moale vpon his brow.

Seb.
And so had mine.

Vio.
And dide that day when Viola from her birth
Had numbred thirteene yeares.

Seb.
O that record is liuely in my soule,
He finished indeed his mortall acte
That day that made my sister thirteene yeares.

Vio.
If nothing lets to make vs happie both,
But this my masculine vsurp'd attyre:
Do not embrace me, till each circumstance,
Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and iumpe
That I am Viola, which to confirme,
Ile bring you to a Captaine in this Towne,
Where lye my maiden weeds: by whose gentle helpe,
I was preseru'd to serue this Noble Count:
All the occurrence of my fortune since
Hath beene betweene this Lady, and this Lord.

Seb.
So comes it Lady, you haue beene mistooke:
But Nature to her bias drew in that.
You would haue bin contracted to a Maid,
Nor are you therein (by my life) deceiu'd,
You are betroth'd both to a maid and man

Du.
Be not amaz'd, right noble is his blood:
If this be so, as yet the glasse seemes true,
I shall haue share in this most happy wracke,
Boy, thou hast saide to me a thousand times,
Thou neuer should'st loue woman like to me.

Vio.
And all those sayings, will I ouer sweare,
And all those swearings keepe as true in soule,
As doth that Orbed Continent, the fire,
That seuers day from night.

Du.
Giue me thy hand,
And let me see thee in thy womans weedes.

Vio.
The Captaine that did bring me first on shore
Hath my Maides garments: he vpon some Action
Is now in durance, at Maluolio's suite,
a Gentleman, and follower of my Ladies.

Ol.
He shall inlarge him: fetch Maluolio hither,
And yet alas, now I remember me,
They say poore Gentleman, he's much distract.
Enter Clowne with a Letter, and Fabian.
A most extracting frensie of mine owne
From my remembrance, clearly banisht his.
How does he sirrah?

Cl.
Truely Madam, he holds Belzebub at the staues end as
well as a man in his case may do: has heere writ a letter to
you, I should haue giuen't you to day morning. But as a
madmans Epistles are no Gospels, so it skilles not much
when they are deliuer'd.

Ol.
Open't, and read it.

Clo.
Looke then to be well edified, when the Foole
deliuers the Madman. By the Lord Madam.

Ol.
How now, art thou mad?

Clo.
No Madam, I do but reade madnesse: and your
Ladyship will haue it as it ought to bee, you must allow Vox.

Ol.
Prethee reade i'thy right wits.

Clo.
So I do Madona: but to reade his right wits, is to
reade thus: therefore, perpend my Princesse, and giue eare.

Ol.
Read it you, sirrah.

Fab. Reads.
By the Lord Madam, you wrong me, and
the world shall know it: Though you haue put mee into
darkenesse, and giuen your drunken Cosine rule ouer me,
yet haue I the benefit of my senses as well as your Ladieship.
I haue your owne letter, that induced mee to the
semblance I put on; with the which I doubt not, but to
do my selfe much right, or you much shame: thinke of
me as you please. I leaue my duty a little vnthought of,
and speake out of my iniury. The madly vs'd Maluolio.

Ol.
Did he write this?

Clo.
I Madame.

Du.
This sauours not much of distraction.

Ol.
See him deliuer'd Fabian, bring him hither:
My Lord, so please you, these things further thought on,
To thinke me as well a sister, as a wife,
One day shall crowne th' alliance on't, so please you,
Heere at my house, and at my proper cost.

Du.
Madam, I am most apt t' embrace your offer:
Your Master quits you: and for your seruice done him,
So much against the mettle of your sex,
So farre beneath your soft and tender breeding,
And since you call'd me Master, for so long:
Heere is my hand, you shall from this time bee
Your Masters Mistris.

Ol.
A sister, you are she.

Enter Maluolio.

Du.
Is this the Madman?

Ol.
I my Lord, this same: How now Maluolio?

Mal.
Madam, you haue done me wrong,
Notorious wrong.

Ol.
Haue I Maluolio? No.

Mal.
Lady you haue, pray you peruse that Letter.
You must not now denie it is your hand,
Write from it if you can, in hand, or phrase,
Or say, tis not your seale, not your inuention:
You can say none of this. Well, grant it then,
And tell me in the modestie of honor,
Why you haue giuen me such cleare lights of fauour,
Bad me come smiling, and crosse-garter'd to you,
To put on yellow stockings, and to frowne
Vpon sir Toby, and the lighter people:
And acting this in an obedient hope,
Why haue you suffer'd me to be imprison'd,
Kept in a darke house, visited by the Priest,
And made the most notorious gecke and gull,
That ere inuention plaid on? Tell me why?

Ol.
Alas Maluolio, this is not my writing,
Though I confesse much like the Charracter:
But out of question, tis Marias hand.
And now I do bethinke me, it was shee
First told me thou wast mad; then cam'st in smiling,
And in such formes, which heere were presuppos'd
Vpon thee in the Letter: prethee be content,
This practice hath most shrewdly past vpon thee:
But when we know the grounds, and authors of it,
Thou shalt be both the Plaintiffe and the Iudge
Of thine owne cause.

Fab.
Good Madam heare me speake,
And let no quarrell, nor no braule to come,
Taint the condition of this present houre,
Which I haue wondred at. In hope it shall not,
Most freely I confesse my selfe, and Toby
Set this deuice against Maluolio heere,
Vpon some stubborne and vncourteous parts
We had conceiu'd against him. Maria writ
The Letter, at sir Tobyes great importance,
In recompence whereof, he hath married her:
How with a sportfull malice it was follow'd,
May rather plucke on laughter then reuenge,
If that the iniuries be iustly weigh'd,
That haue on both sides past.

Ol.
Alas poore Foole, how haue they baffel'd thee?

Clo.
Why some are borne great, some atchieue greatnesse,
and some haue greatnesse throwne vpon them. I
was one sir, in this Enterlude, one sir Topas sir, but that's
all one: By the Lord Foole, I am not mad: but do you remember,
Madam, why laugh you at such a barren rascall,
and you smile not he's gag'd: and thus the whirlegigge
of time, brings in his reuenges.

Mal.
Ile be reueng'd on the whole packe of you?

Ol.
He hath bene most notoriously abus'd.

Du.
Pursue him, and entreate him to a peace:
He hath not told vs of the Captaine yet,
When that is knowne, and golden time conuents
A solemne Combination shall be made
Of our deere soules. Meane time sweet sister,
We will not part from hence. Cesario come
(For so you shall be while you are a man:)
But when in other habites you are seene,
Exeunt.Orsino's Mistris, and his fancies Queene.

Clowne sings.
When that I was and a little tine boy,
with hey, ho, the winde and the raine:
A foolish thing was but a toy,
for the raine it raineth euery day.

But when I came to mans estate,
with hey ho, &c.
Gainst Knaues and Theeues men shut their gate,
for the raine, &c.

But when I came alas to wiue,
with hey ho, &c.
By swaggering could I neuer thriue,
for the raine, &c.

But when I came vnto my beds,
with hey ho, &c.
With tospottes still had drunken heades,
for the raine, &c.

A great while ago the world begon,
hey ho, &c.
But that's all one, our Play is done,
and wee'l striue to please you euery day.


Finis.

End fleuron.