here to speak with her, and bring her along with you, it may awake my bounty further.

Clo. 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 Clown.

Enter Antonio and Officers.

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

me.

Duke. 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,

Cry'd fame and honour on him.-What's the matter? 1 Off. Orsino, this is that Antonio,

That took the Phoenix, and her fraughtt, 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.

Vio. 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. 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?

Ant.

Orsino, noble sir,

Be pleas'd 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 enrag'd 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.

Vio.

How can this be?

Duke. When came he to this town?

Ant. To-day, my lord; and for three months be

fore

(No interim, not a minute's vacancy),

Both day and night did we keep company.

Enter Olivia and attendants.

Duke. Here comes the countess; now heaven walks on earth.

But for thee, fellow, fellow, thy words are mad

ness:

Three months this youth hath tended upon me;
But more of that anon.Take him aside.

Oli. What would my lord, but that he may not

have,

Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?—

Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.

Vio. Madam?

Duke. Gracious Olivia,

Oli. What do you say, Cesario?-Good my

lord,

Vio. My lord would speak, my duty hushes me. Oli. If it be aught to the old tune, my lord,

It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear,
As howling after music.

Duke.

Still so cruel?

Oli. Still so constant, lord.

Duke. What! to perverseness? you uncivil lady, To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars

My soul the faithfull'st offerings hath breath'd out, That e'er devotion tender'd! What shall I do?

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

Duke. 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 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.-
Come boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mis-

chief:

I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love,

To spite a raven's heart within a dove.

[Going.

Vio. And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly, To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.

Oli. Where goes Cesario?

Vio.

[Following.

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!

Oli. Ah me, detested! how am I beguil'd!
Vio. Who does beguile you? who does do you
wrong?

• Dull, gross.

Oli. Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long?— Call forth the holy father.

Duke.

[Exit an Attendant.

Oli. Whither, my lord ?-Cesario, husband, stay. Duke. Husband?

Oli.

Ay, husband; Can be that deny?

Duke. Her husband, sirrah?

Vio.

No, my lord, not I.

Oli. 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.-O, welcome, father!

Re-enter Attendant and Priest.

Eather, 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 past 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 travelled but two hours.

Duke. O, thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be, When time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy caset? 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. Vio. My lord, I do protest,

• Disown thy property.

+ Skin.

Oli.

O, do not swear: Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear.

Enter Sir Andrew Ague-cheek, with his head broke.

Sir And. For the love of God, a surgeon; send one presently to sir Toby.

Oli. What's the matter?

Sir And. 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.

Oli. Who has done this, sir Andrew?

Sir And. The count's gentleman, one Cesario: we took him for a coward, but he's the very devil incardinate.

Duke. My gentleman, Cesario?

Sir And. 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.

Vio. 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.

Sir And. If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me; I think, you set nothing by a bloody coxconb.

Enter Sir Toby Belch, drunk, led by the 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. How now, gentleinan? how is't with you? Sir To. That's all one; he has hurt me, aud there's the end on't.-Sot, did'st see Dick surgeon, sot?

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

* Otherways.