That fometimes favours nobly ;) but hear me this:
Since you to non-regardance caft my faith,
And that I partly know the inftrument,

That fcrews me from my true place in your favour :
Live you the marble-breafted tyrant ftill.

But this your minion, whom, I know, you love,
And whom, by heav'n, I fwear, I tender dearly,
Him will I tear out of that cruel eye,

Where he fits crowned in his matter's fpight.

Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mifchief: I'll facrifice the lamb that I do love,

To fpight a raven's heart within a dove.

[Duke going.

Vio. And I moft jocund, apt, and willingly,

To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die. [following. Oli. Where goes Cefario?

Vio. After him I love,

More than I love these eyes, more than my life;
More, by all mores, than e'er I fhall love wife.
If I do feign, you witnesses above

Punish my life, for tainting of my love!

Oli. Ay me, detefted! how am I beguil'd?

Vio. Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong? Oli. Haft thou forgot thyfelf? Is it fo long?

Call forth the holy father.

Duke. Come, away.

[To Viola.

Oli. Whither, my Lord? Cefario, husband, ftay.
Duke. Hufband?

Vio. Ay, husband. Can he that deny ?

their hands, Thyamis fell desperately in love with the Lady, and would have married her. Soon after, a ftronger body of robbers coming down upon Thyamis's party, he was in fuch fears for his mistress, that he had her shut into a cave with his treasure. It was caftomary with those Barbarians, when they defpair'd of their own fafety, first to make away with those whom they held dear, and defired for companions in the next life. Thyamis, therefore, benetted round with his enemies, raging with love, jealousy, and anger, went to his cave; and calling aloud in the Ægyptiax tongue, so foon as he heard himself answer'd towards the cave's mouth by a Grecian, making to the perfon by the direct on of her voice, he caught her by the hair with his left hand, and (fuppofing her to be Chariclea) with his right hand plung'd his fword into her breast.

Duke. Her husband, firrah?
Vio. No, my Lord, not I.

Oli. Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear,
That makes thee ftrangle thy propriety
Fear not, Cefario, take thy fortunes up:

Be that, thou know'it, thou art, and then thou art
As great, as that thou fear'st.

O welcome, father.

Enter Priest.

Father, I charge thee by thy reverence
Here to unfold, (tho' lately we intended
To keep in darkness, what occafion now
Reveals before 'tis ripe) what, thou dost know
Hath newly paft between this youth and me.
Prieft. A contract of eternal bond of love,
Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands,
Attefted by the holy clofe of lips,

Strengthened by enterchangement of your rings:
And all the ceremony of this compact

Seal'd in my function, by my teftimony:

Since when, my watch hath told me, tow'rd my grave I have travell'd but two hours.

Duke. O thou diffembling cub what wilt thou be, When time hath fow'd a grizzel on thy cafe? Or will not else thy craft fo quickly grow, That thine own trip fhall be thine overthrow? Farewel, and take her; but direct thy feet, Where thou and I henceforth may never meet.. Vio. My Lord, I do protest

Oli. O, do not fwear;

Hold little faith, tho' thou haft too much fear!

Enter Sir Andrew, with his head broke.

Sir And. For the love of God a furgeon, and fend one presently to Sir Toby.

Oli. What's the matter?

Sir And. H'as broke my head a-crofs, and 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 Cefario; we took him for a coward, but he's the very devil incardinate. Duke. My gentleman, Cefario?

Sir And. Od's lifelings, here he is: you broke my head for nothing, and that that I did, I was fet on to do't by Sir Toby.

Vio. Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you:
You drew your fword upon me, without cause
But I befpake you fair, and hurt you not.

Enter Sir Toby, and Clown.

Sir And. If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me: I think, you fet nothing by a bloody coxcomb. Here comes Sir Toby halting, you fhall hear more; but if he had not been in drink, he would have tickled you other-gates than he did.

Duke. How now, gentleman? how is't with you?

Sir To. That's all one, he has hurt me, and there's an end on't; Sot, didft fee Dick Surgeon, Sot?

Clo. O he's drunk, Sir Toby, above an hour agone; his eyes were fet at eight i'th' morning.

Sir To. Then he's a rogue, and a paft-measure Painim. I hate a drunken rogue.

Oli. Away with him: who hath made this havock with them?

Sir And. I'll help you, Sir Toby, because we'll bẹ dreft together.

Sir To. Will you help an afs-head, and a coxcomb, and a knave, a thin-fac'd knave, a gull?

[Exeunt Clo. To. and And. Oli. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to.

Enter Sebaftian.

Seb. I am forry, Madam, I have hurt your kinfman: But had it been the brother of my blood,

I must have done no lefs with wit and fafety.

[All stand in am You throw a ftrange regard on me, by which, I do perceive, it hath offended you.;,

H 4

Pardon

Pardon me, fweet one, even for the vows. >We made each other, but fo late ago.

Duke. One face, one voice, one habit, and two perfons; A nat❜ral perspective, that is, and is not!

Seb. Antonio, O my dear Antonio!

How have the hours rack'd and tortur'd me,
Since I have loft thee?

Ant. Sebaftian are you?

Seb. Fear'st thou that, Antonio !

Ant. How have you made divifion of yourself?
An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin
Than these two creatures. Which is Sebaftian?

Oli. Moft wonderful!

Seb. Do I ftand there? I never had a brother:
Nor can there be that deity in my nature,
Of here and every where. I had a fifter,
Whom the blind waves and furges have devour'd:
Of charity, what kin are you to me?

[To Viola.
What countryman? what name? what parentage?
Vio. Of Mealine; Sebaftian was my father;
Such a Sebaftian was my brother too:
So went he fuited to his wat'ry tomb.
If fpirits can affume both form and fuit,
You come to fright us.

Seb. A fpirit I am, indeed;

But am in that dimension grofsly clad,
Which from the womb I did participate.'
Were you a woman, as the reft goes even,
I should my tears let fall upon your cheek,
And fay, "Thrice welcome, drowned Viola!"
Vio. My father had a mole upon his brow.
Seb. And fo had mine.

Vio. And dy'd that day, when Viola from her birth Had number'd thirteen years

Seb. O, that record is lively in my foul;

He finished, indeed, his mortal act,

That day that made my fifter thirteen years.
.. Vio. If nothing lets to make us happy both,
But this my mafculine ufurp'd attire;
Do not embrace me, 'till each circumstance

Of

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 maid's weeds; (21) by whose gentle help I was preferr'd to ferve this noble Duke.

All the occurrence of my fortune fince

Hath been between this Lady, and this Lord.

Seb. So comes it, Lady, you have been mistook:

But Nature to her bias drew in that.

[To Olivia.

You would have been contracted to a maid,
Nor are you therein, by my life, deceiv'd;
You are betroth'd both to a maid, and man.
Duke. Be not amaz'd: right-noble is his blood:
If this be fo, as yet the glass seems true,
I fhall have share in this moft happy wreck.
Boy, thou haft faid to me a thousand times,
Thou never fhould'ft love woman like to me.
Vio. And all thofe fayings will I over-fwear,
And all those swearings keep as true in foul;
As doth that orbed continent the fire,
That fevers day from night.

Duke. Give me thy hand,

And let me fee thee in thy woman's weeds.

(21)

--by whofe gentle help

[To Vio.

I was preferv'd to ferve this noble Duke.] Tho' this be fenfe, and poffeffes all the printed copies, yet I fufpect, from the fimilitude in the two words preferv'd and ferve (a lameness of found, which Shakespeare would, probably, have avoided ;) the copyifts, or men at prefs, committed a flight mistake. When the Captain and Viola fift appear upon the Stage, the favs to him;

--I'll ferve this Duke;

Thou shalt prefent me,

&c.

I therefore believe, the Author wrote, as I have reform'd the Text; by ruhofe gentle help

I was preferr'd to ferve this noble Duke;

So in The Taming of the

Or, Signor Gremio, you know any fach,

Prefer them hither.

So, in Julius Cæfar;

08. Feliow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me?

Sira, Ay, if Meffala will prefer me to you, &c. &c. &c,

H 5