315 Sir And. A mellifluous voice, as I am a true lady bade me tell you, that though the harbours knight. Sir. To. A contagious breath. Sir And. Very sweet and contagious, i'faith. Sir To. To hear by the nofe, it is dulcet in 5 contagion. But fhall we make the welkin dance indeed? Shall we rouze the night-owl in a catch, that will draw three fouls 2 out of one weaver? fhall we do that? Sir And. An you love me, let's do't: I am a dogic at a catch. Clo. By'r lady, fir, and fome dogs will catch well. Sir And. Moft certain : let our catch be,Thou knave. Clo. Hold thy peace, thou knave, knight? I shall be conftrain'd in't to call thee knave, knight. Sir And. 'Tis not the first time I have conftrain'd to call me knave. Begin, fool; it begins, Hold thy peace. one Clo. I shall never begin, if I hold my peace. Enter Maria. [They fing a catch. Mar. What a catterwauling do you keep here? If my lady have not call'd up her fteward, Malvolio, and bid him turn you out of doors, never 2 truit me. Sir To. My lady's a Cataian 3, we are politicians; Malvolio's a Peg-a-Ramfey 4, and Three merry men be wes. you as her kinfman, fhe's nothing ally'd to your diforders. If you can feparate yourself and your not, an it would please you to take leave of her, the mifdemeanors, you are welcome to the house; if is very willing to bid you farewel. Sir To. Farewel, dear beart, fince I must needs be gone. Mal. Nay, good fir Toby. Cia. His eyes do fhew his days are almoft done. Sir To. But I will never die. Mal. This is much credit to you. Sir To. Shall I bid him go? Clo. What an if you do? Sir To. Shall I bid him go, and spare not? Clo. O no, no, no, no, you dare not. [Singing. Sir To. Out o'tune, fir, ye lie.-Art any more 2c than a steward? Doft thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale *° ? Clo. Yes, by Saint Anne; and ginger shall be hot 'the mouth too. 5 Am not I confanguineous? am I not of her blood |30| Sir And. Ay, he does well enough, if he bel35 difpos'd, and fo do I too; he does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural. Sir To. O, the twelfth day of December,— [Singing. chain with crums :-A stoop of wine,Maria!- Mal. Miftrefs Mary, if you priz'd my lady's favour at any thing more than contempt, you would not give means for this uncivil rule"; the fhall know of it, by this hand. Mar. Go thake your ears. [Exit. Sir And. "Twere as good a deed, as to drink when a man's a hungry, to challenge him to the field; and then to break promife with him, and make a fool of him. Sir To. Do't, knight; I'll write thee a challenge; or I'll deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth. Mar. Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for to-night: fince the youth of the count's was to-day with my 40lady, the's much out of quiet. For monfieur Mal Mal. My mafters, are you mad? or what are you? Have you no wit, manners, nor honefty, but to gabble like tinkers at this time of night? Do ye make an ale-houfe of my lady's houfe, that ye fqueak out your coziers & catches without any miti-45 gation or remorfe of voice? Is there no refpect of place, persons, nor time in you? Sir To. We did keep time, fir, in our catches. Sneck up 9! volio, let me alone with him: if I do not gull recreation, do not think I have wit enough to lie him into a nayword 13, and make him a common ftraight in my bed: know I can do it. Sir To. Poffefs us 14, poffefs us; tell us fomething of him. Mar. Marry, fir, fometimes he is a kind of puritan. Sir And. O, if I thought that, I'd beat him like Mal. Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My soļa dog. 7 4 The 1 That is, drink till the fky feems to turn round. familiar with our author. Much ado about Nothing: “Now is his foul ravijhed. Is it not strange that sheep's2 This expreffion of the power of mufick, is guts fhould bale fouls out of men's bodies ?"-Why he fays three fouis, is, because he is fpeaking of a catch in three parts; and the peripatetic philosophy, then in vogue, very liberally gave every man three fouls; the vegetative or plaftic, the animal, and the rational. name of a very obfcene old fong. 3 A term of reproach. See note 8, p. 52. 5 This is a conclufion common to many old fongs. valley was an interjection of contempt, in ufe at that time. & Tillywhich Sir Toby was probably reminded, by faying, "Tilly-valley, lady." Lady, lady, is the burthen of the song, of the French word coudre, to few. 9 Mr. Steevens thinks we thould read Sneak-cup, i. e. one who takes SA azir is a taylor, from his glafs in a fneaking manner; but afterwards adds, that fneck the door is a north country expreffion for latch the decr. I furmife that it means go hang yourself, in which the fenfe is good in five examples brought by Mr. Steevens. S. A. cakes in honour of the day; which the Puritans called fuperftition. 10 Alluding to the custom on holidays or faints' days to make chain as a mark of fuperiority over other icrvants. 11 Stewards formerly wore a 12 i. e. behaviour. 13 i. e. a bye-word, a kind Sir of proverbial reproach. 14 i. e. inform us, tells us. Sir To. What, for being a puritan? thy exquifite reafon, dear knight? Sir And. I have no exquifite reafon for't, but I have reafon good enough. Mar. The devil a puritan that he is, or any 5 thing constantly but a time-pleaser; an affection'dafs, that cons state without book, and utters it by great fwarths: the best perfuaded of himself, fo cram'd, as he thinks, with excellencies, that it is his ground of faith, that all, that look on 10 him, love him; and on that vice in him will my revenge find notable caufe to work. Sir To. What wilt thou do? Now, good Cefario, but that piece of song, Cur. He is not here, so please your lordship, that fhould fing it. Duke. Who was it? Cur. Fefte, the jester, my lord; a fool, that the lady Olivia's father took much delight in: he is about the house. Duke. Seek him out, and play the tune the while. [Exit Curio. Mufick. Mar. I will drop in his way some obfcure epiftles of love; wherein, by the colour of his beard, the 15 Come hither, boy: If ever thou shalt love, fhape of his leg, the manner of his gait, the ex- Sir To. Excellent! I fmell a device. Sir To. He shall think, by the letters that thou wilt drop, that they come from my niece, and that she is 25 in love with him. Mar. My purpofe is, indeed, a horfe of that colour. Sir And. And your horfe now would make him an afs. Mar. Afs, I doubt not. Sir And. O, 'twill be admirable. Mar. Sport royal, I warrant you: I know, my phyfick will work with him. I will plant you two, 30 In the sweet pangs of it, remember me : Duke. Thou doft speak masterly: My life upon't, young though thou art, thine eye Vio. A little, by your favour. Duke. What kind of woman is't? Vio. Of your complexion. Duke. She is not worth thee, then. What years, i'faith? Vio. About your years, my lord. Duke. Too old, by heaven; Let still the woman take and let the fool make a third, where he shall find the 35 An elder than herfelf; fo wears she to him, letter; obferve his conftruction of it. For this night, to bed, and dream on the event. Farewell. [Exit. Sir To. Good night, Penthefilea 2. Sir. And. Before me, fhe's a good wench. So fways the level in her husband's heart. Sir To. She's a beagle, true-bred, and one that 40 Than women's are. adores me; What o'that? Sir And. I was ador'd once too. Sir To. Let's to bed, knight.-Thou hadst need fend for more money. Sir And. If I cannot recover your niece, I am a 45 foul way out. Sir To. Send for money, knight; if thou haft her not i' the end, call me Cut 3. Sir And. If I do not, never trust me, take it how you will. Sir To. Come, come; I'll go burn some sack, 'tis too late to go to bed now: come, knight; come, knight. [Exeunt. Duke, Give me fome mufick :-) Now, goodmorrow, friends : Vio. I think it well, my lord. Duke. Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Vio. And fo they are: alas, that they are fo; Re-enter Curio, and Clown. Duke. O fellow,come, the fong we had last night :Mark it, Cefario; it is old, and plain: The fpinfters and the knitters in the fun, And the free 7 maids that weave their thread with bones, 55 Do ufe to chant it; it is filly footh ®, And dallies with the innocence of love, Clo. Are you ready, fir? ■ That is, affected. 2 i. e. amazon. 3 Alluding to a cut or curtail dog. 5 i. e. fome beauty, or complexion. 6 i. e. worn out. 4 i. e. ftudied. vacant, or eafy in mind. times of fimplicity. i. e. it is plain, fimple truth. [Mufict, See note, p. 62. 7 Meaning perhaps, 9 The old age implies the ages paft, the SONG, ) Come away, come away, death, My fbrowd of white, ftuck all with yew, My part of death no one fo true Not a flower, not a flower sweet, Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpfe, where my bones fhall be thrown : Sad true love never find my grave, Duke. There's for thy pains. Vio. Too well what love women to men may cwe : In faith, they are as true of heart as we. My father had a daughter lov'd a man, As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman, 5 I fhould your lordship. Duke. And what's her history? Vio. A blank, my lord: She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek: the pin'd in thought; 10 And, with a green and yellow melancholy, She fat like Patience on a monument, Smiling at grief. Was not this love, indeed? We men may fay more, fwear more: but, indeed, Our fhows are more than will; for ftill we prove 15 Much in our vows, but little in our love. Clo. No pains, fir; I take pleasure in finging, fir. 20 Cl. Truly, fir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or other. Duke. Give me now leave to leave thee. Clo. Now, the melancholy god protect thee, and 15| the taylor make thy doublet of changeable taffata, for thy mind is a very opal1:-I would have men of fuch conftancy put to fea, that their business might be every thing, and their intent every where 2;| for that's it, that always makes a good voyage of 30 nothing.-Farewell. Duke. Let all the reft give place. Once more Cefario, [Exit. [Exeunt. Get thee to yon fame fovereign cruelty: The parts that fortune hath bestow'd upon her, Vio. 'Sooth, but you must. Say, that some lady, as, perhaps, there is, Can bide the beating of so strong a passion, And that I owe Olivia. Vio. Ay, but I know,— Duke. What doft thou know? 1 A precious ftone of almost all colours. in view than another. 3 Denay is denial. 35 140 1451 Duke. But dy'd thy fifter of her love, my boy? Vio. I am all the daughters of my father's house, And all the brothers too ;-and yet I know not :Sir, fhall I to this lady? Duke. Ay, that's the theme. To her in hafte; give her this jewel; fay, SCENE V. Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian. Sir To. Come thy ways, fignior Fabian. Fab. Nay, I'll come: if I lofe a fcruple of this fport, let me be boil'd to death with melancholy. Sir To. Would'ft thou not be glad to have the |niggardly rascally sheep-biter come by fome notable fhame? Fab. I would exult, man: you know, he brought me out of favour with my lady, about a bear-baitJing here. Sir To. To anger him, we'll have the bear again; and we will fool him black and blue: Shall we not, Sir Andrew? Sir And. And we do not, it is pity of our lives. Sir To. Here comes the little villain :-How now, my nettle of India 4? Mar. Get you all three into the box-tree : Malvolio's coming down this walk; he has been yonder i' the fun, practising behaviour to his own shadow, this half hour: obferve him, for the love of mockery; for, I know, this letter will make a contemplative ideot of him. Clofe, in the name 50 of jefting! Lie thou there; for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling. [They hide themselves. Maria throws down a letter [Exit. 55 and Enter Malvolio. Mal. 'Tis but fortune; all is fortune. Maria once told me, fhe did affect me; and I have heard herfelf come thus near, that, should she fancy, it thould be one of my complexion. Befides, fhe ufes me with a more exalted respect, than any one 60 elfe that follows her. What should I think on't? 2 i. c. no where, as it hath no one more particular place 4 Mr. Steevens obferves, that the old copy reads -"mettle of India; meaning, my girl of gold, my precious girl;" and this is probably the true meaning. Sir Sir And. I knew 'twas I; for many do call. fool. Mal. What employment have we here ? ? [Taking up the late Fab. Now is the woodcock near the gin. Sir To. Oh peace! and the spirit of humours in timate reading aloud to him! Mal. By my life, this is my lady's hand: the be her very C's, her U's, and her T's; and thu 10 makes the her great P's. It is, in contempt of queftion, her hand. 15 Mal. Calling my officers about me, in my 20 branch'd velvet gown; having come from a daybed, where I have left Olivia fleeping. Sir To. Fire and brimftone! Fab. O, peace, peace! Mal. And then to have the humour of flate:25 and after a demure travel of regard,-telling them, I know my place, as I would they should do theirs, to atk for my kinsman Toby :Sir To. Bolts and fhackles ! Fab. O, peace, peace, peace! now, now. Mal. Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for him: 1 frown the while; and, perchance, wind up my watch 5, or play with fome rich jewel. Toby approaches; curtfies there to me. Sir To. Shall this fellow live? Fab. Though our filence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace, Mal. I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar fmile with an auftere regard of controul: Sir To. And does not Toby take you a blow o'the lips then? Mal. Saying, "Cousin Toby, my fortunes having "caft me on your niece, give me this prerogative "of fpeech;" Sir To. What, what? Mal. "You must amend your drunkenness." Fab. Nay, patience, or we break the finews of our plot. Mal. "Befides, you wate the treasure of your time with a foolish knight;" Sir And. That's me, I warrant you. Mal. "One fir Andrew;" 30 Sir And. Her C's, her U's, and her T's: Why that? Mal. "To the unknown belov'd, this, and my good wishes:" her very phrafes!-By your leave, wax.-Soft! and the impreffure her Lu crece, with which the ufes to feal: 'tis my lady: To whom fhould this be? Fab. This wins him, liver and all. "Lips do not move, "No man must know." No man must know.”—What follows? the numbers alter'd! No man must know:”—f this fhould be thee, Malvolio? Sir To. Marry, hang thee, brock $! Mal. "I may command, where I adore : Sir To. Excellent wench, fay I. Mal. "M. O. A. I. doth sway my life."-Nay, 35 but firft, let me fee,-let me fee,-let me fee. Fab. What a difh of poison has the dress'd him! Sir Tob. And with what wing the ftannyel checks 10 at it! Mal. "I may command where I adore." Why,the 40 may command me; I ferve her, fhe is my lady. Why, this is evident to any formal 11 capacity. There is no obftruction in this;-And the end;-What fhould that alphabetical position portend? If I could make that refemble fomething in me,-Softly;45 M. 0. A. I.— 50 Sir To. O, ay! make up that: he now at a cold fcent. Fab. Sowter 12 will cry upon't, for all this, though it be as rank as a fox. Mal. M, Malvolio ;-M,-why, that begins my name. Fab. Did not I fay, he would work it out? the cur is excellent at faults. Mal. M,-But then there is no confonancy in To jet is to ftrut. 2 Mr. Steevens propofes to read, we think happily, ftarchy; i. e. the room in which linen underwent the once moft complicated operation of ftarching. 3'i. e. puffs him up. 4 i. e. a cross bow, a bow which fhoots ftones. 5 Watches at that time were very uncommon. 6 i. e. carts. 8 7 Meaning, what's to do here? i. e. badger. He calls Malvolio one, because he is likely to be hunted like that animal. To badger a man, is a phrase now in ufe for making a foul of him. 9 The fannyel is the common ftone-hawk, in the north called franchil. 10 i. e. flies at it. 11 i. e. any one in his fenfes. 12 Probably means here the name of a hound. A fowter, how ever, was a cobler. the 319 he fequel; that fuffers under probation: A shouldings, and cross-garter'd, even with the swiftnefs llow, but O does. Fab. And 0 fhall end, I hope 1. Sir To. Ay, or I' cudgel him, and make him ry, O. Mal. And then I comes behind. Fab. Ay, an you had an eye behind you, you night see more detraction at your heels, than forunes before you. 5 Mal. M. O. A. I.—This fimulation is not as the 10 former :-and yet, to crufh this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of these letters is in my name. Soft; here follows profe.- "If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my ftars I am above "thee; but be not afraid of greatnefs: Some are 15 "born great, fome atchieve greatness, and fome "have greatness thruft upon them. Thy fates open their hands; let thy blood and spirit em"brace them. And, to inure thyfelf to what "thou art like to be, caft thy humble flough, and 20 "appear fresh. Be oppofite with a kinfman, furly 66 with fervants : let thy tongue tang arguments of "ftate; put thyfelf into the trick of fingularity: “She thus advises thee, that fighs for thee. Re"member who commended thy yellow ftockings 2;|25| "and with'd to fee thee ever cross-garter'd 3: I fay, "remember. Go to; thou art made, if thou de"fireft to be fo; if not, let me fee thee a steward "ftill, the fellow of fervants, and not worthy to "touch Fortune's fingers. Farewel. She, that 30 "would alter fervices with thee, The fortunate"unhappy." Day-light and champian discovers not more 4: this is open. I will be proud, I will read politic authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wafh off grofs acquaintance, I will be paint-de-vice 5, the 35 very man. I do not now fool myself to let imagination jade me; for every reafon excites to this, that my lady loves me. She did commend my yellow ftockings of late, she did praise my leg being crossgarter'd; and in this fhe manifefts herself to my 40 love, and, with a kind of injunction, drives me to thefe habits of her liking. I thank my stars, I am happy. I will be ftrange, ftout, in yellow stock of putting on. Jove, and my stars, be praised!Here is yet a poftfcript. "Thou canst not chufe but know who I am. If thou entertaineft my love, let it appear in thy fmiling; thy fmiles become thee well: therefore in my prefence ftill fmile, dear my fweet, I pr'ythee."-Jove, I thank thee.I will fmile; I will do every thing that thou wilt have me. [Exit. a Fab. I will not give my part of this fport for penfion of thousands to be paid from the Sophy. Sir To. I could marry this wench for this device. Sir And. So could I too. Sir To. And afk no other dowry with her, but fuch another jeft. Enter Maria. Sir And. Nor I neither. Fab. Here comes my noble gull-catcher. Sir To. Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and become thy bond-flave? Sir And. I'faith, or I either? Sir To. Why, thou haft put him in fuch a dream, that, when the image of it leaves him, he must run mad. Mar. Nay, but fay true, does it work upon him? Sir To. Like aqua-vitæ 7 with a midwife. Mar. If you will then fee the fruits of the fport, mark his first approach before my lady: he will the abhors: and cross-garter'd, a fashion fhe detefts; come to her in yellow ftockings, and 'tis a colour and he will fmile upon her, which will now be fo unfuitable to her difpofition, being addicted to Ja melancholy as she is, that it cannot but turn him low me. into a notable contempt: if you will fee it, fol Sir T. To the gates of Tartar, thou moft excellent devil of wit! Sir And. I'll make one too. [Excunt. Vio. ACT SCENE I. Olivia's Garden. Enter Viola and Clean. AVE thee, friend, and thy mufick: SA Doft thou live by thy tabor? Clo. No, fir, I live by the church. 1501 III. Vio. Art thou a churchman? Clo. No fuch matter, fir; 1 do live by the church: for I do live at my house, and my house doth stand by the church. Vis. So thou may'ft fay, the king lies by a 155 beggar, if a beggar dwell near him; or, the church mer fcene Malvolio is faid to have been an affecter of puritanism. 3 The puritans of thofe times affected this fashion, and in a for2 Yellow ftockings were, country cannot make things plainer. 4 i. e. broad day and an open fuppofes tray-trip to have been the name of fome game at tables, draughts, or cards; while Sir John i. e. with the utmoft poffible exactness. 6 Mr. Steevens Hawkins fays it was a game (much in vogue in our author's days, and still retained among the lower clafs of young people in the weft of England,) the fame as now goes under the name of Scot b-bop, which was play'd either upon level ground marked out with chalk in the form of fquares or diamonds, or upon a chequered pavement. 7 i. e. ftrong quaters. Meaning, probably, that it fhall end in fighing or disappointment. in our author's time, much worn. ftands |