Page:Shakespeare - First Folio Faithfully Reproduced, Methuen, 1910.djvu/286

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Twelfe Night, or, What you will.

Fate, shew thy force, our selues we do not owe,
What is decreed, must be: and be this so.
Finis, Actus primus.


Actus Secundus, Scæna Prima.


Enter Antonio and Sebastian.

Ant.
Will you stay no longer: nor will you not that
I go with you

Seb.
By your patience, no: my starres shine darkely
ouer me; the malignancie of my fate, might perhaps distemper
yours; therefore I shall craue of you your leaue,
that I may beare my euils alone. It were a bad recompence
for your loue, to lay any of them on you.

An.
Let me yet know of you, whither you are bound.

Seb.
No sooth sir: my determinate voyage is meere
extrauagancie. But I perceiue in you so excellent a touch
of modestie, that you will not extort from me, what I am
willing to keepe in: therefore it charges me in manners,
the rather to expresse my selfe: you must know of mee
then Antonio, my name is Sebastian (which I call'd Rodorigo)
my father was that Sebastian of Messaline, whom I
know you haue heard of. He left behinde him, my selfe,
and a sister, both borne in an houre: if the Heauens had
beene pleas'd, would we had so ended. But you sir, alter'd
that, for some houre before you tooke me from the
breach of the sea, was my sister drown'd.

Ant.
Alas the day

Seb.
A Lady sir, though it was said shee much resembled
me, was yet of many accounted beautiful: but thogh
I could not with such estimable wonder ouer-farre
beleeue that, yet thus farre I will boldly publish her, shee
bore a minde that enuy could not but call faire: Shee is
drown'd already sir with salt water, though I seeme to
drowne her remembrance againe with more.

Ant.
Pardon me sir, your bad entertainment

Seb.
O good Antonio, forgiue me your trouble.

Ant.
If you will not murther me for my loue, let mee
be your seruant.

Seb.
If you will not vndo what you haue done, that is
kill him, whom you haue recouer'd, desire it not. Fare
ye well at once, my bosome is full of kindnesse, and I
am yet so neere the manners of my mother, that vpon the
least occasion more, mine eyes will tell tales of me: I am
Exitbound to the Count Orsino's Court, farewell.

Ant.
The gentlenesse of all the gods go with thee:
I haue many enemies in Orsino's Court,
Else would I very shortly see thee there:
But come what may, I do adore thee so,
ExitThat danger shall seeme sport, and I will go.


Scæna Secunda.


Enter Viola and Maluolio, at seuerall doores.

Mal.
Were not you eu'n now, with the Countesse Oliuia?

Vio
Euen now sir, on a moderate pace, I haue since
ariu'd but hither.

Mal.
She returnes this Ring to you (sir) you might
haue saued mee my paines, to haue taken it away your
selfe. She adds moreouer, that you should put your Lord
into a desperate assurance, she will none of him. And one
thing more, that you be neuer so hardie to come againe
in his affaires, vnlesse it bee to report your Lords taking
of this: receiue it so.

Vio
She tooke the Ring of me, Ile none of it.

Mal.
Come sir, you peeuishly threw it to her: and
her will is, it should be so return'd: If it bee worth stooping
for, there it lies, in your eye: if not, bee it his that
Exitfindes it.

Vio
I left no Ring with her: what meanes this Lady?
Fortune forbid my out-side haue not charm'd her:
She made good view of me, indeed so much,
That me thought her eyes had lost her tongue,
For she did speake in starts distractedly.
She loues me sure, the cunning of her passion
Inuites me in this churlish messenger:
None of my Lords Ring? Why he sent her none;
I am the man, if it be so, as tis,
Poore Lady, she were better loue a dreame:
Disguise, I see thou art a wickednesse,
Wherein the pregnant enemie does much.
How easie is it, for the proper false
In womens waxen hearts to set their formes:
Alas, O frailtie is the cause, not wee,
For such as we are made, if such we bee:
How will this fadge? My master loues her deerely,
And I (poore monster) fond asmuch on him:
And she (mistaken) seemes to dote on me:
What will become of this? As I am man,
My state is desperate for my maisters loue:
As I am woman (now alas the day)
What thriftlesse sighes shall poore Oliuia breath?
O time, thou must vntangle this, not I,
It is too hard a knot for me t' vnty.


Scæna Tertia.


Enter Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew.

To.
Approach Sir Andrew: not to bee a bedde after midnight,
is to be vp betimes, and Deliculo surgere, thou know'st.

And.
Nay by my troth I know not: but I know, to
be vp late, is to be vp late.

To.
A false conclusion: I hate it as an vnfill'd Canne.
To be vp after midnight, and to go to bed then is early:
so that to go to bed after midnight, is to goe to bed betimes.
Does not our liues consist of the foure Elements?

And.
Faith so they say, but I thinke it rather consists
of eating and drinking.

To.
Th'art a scholler; let vs therefore eate and drinke.
Marian I say, a stoope of wine.

Enter Clowne.

And.
Heere comes the foole yfaith.

Clo.
How now my harts: Did you neuer see the Picture
of we three?

To.
Welcome asse, now let's haue a catch.

And.
By my troth the foole has an excellent breast. I
had rather then forty shillings I had such a legge, and so
sweet a breath to sing, as the foole has. Insooth thou wast
in very gracious fooling last night, when thou spok'st of
Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians passing the Equinoctial of
Queubus: 'twas very good yfaith: I sent thee sixe pence

for