Twelfth Night, or, What You Will

Enter Orsino, Duke of Illyria, Curio, and other Lords, <with Musicians playing.>

ORSINO
If music be the food of love, play on.	1
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,	2
The appetite may sicken and so die.	3
That strain again! It had a dying fall.	4
O, it came o’er my ear like the sweet sound	5
That breathes upon a bank of violets,	6
Stealing and giving odor. Enough; no more.	7
’Tis not so sweet now as it was before.	8
O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou,	9
That, notwithstanding thy capacity	10
Receiveth as the sea, naught enters there,	11
Of what validity and pitch soe’er,	12
But falls into abatement and low price	13
Even in a minute. So full of shapes is fancy	14
That it alone is high fantastical.	15
CURIO
Will you go hunt, my lord?	16
ORSINO What, Curio?	17
CURIO The hart.	18
ORSINO
Why, so I do, the noblest that I have.	19
O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first,	20
Methought she purged the air of pestilence.	21
That instant was I turned into a hart,	22
And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,	23
E’er since pursue me.	24

Enter Valentine.

How now, what news from her?	25
VALENTINE
So please my lord, I might not be admitted,	26
But from her handmaid do return this answer:	27
The element itself, till seven years’ heat,	28
Shall not behold her face at ample view,	29
But like a cloistress she will veilèd walk,	30
And water once a day her chamber round	31
With eye-offending brine—all this to season	32
A brother’s dead love, which she would keep fresh	33
And lasting in her sad remembrance.	34
ORSINO
O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame	35
To pay this debt of love but to a brother,	36
How will she love when the rich golden shaft	37
Hath killed the flock of all affections else	38
That live in her; when liver, brain, and heart,	39
These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and filled	40
Her sweet perfections with one self king!	41
Away before me to sweet beds of flowers!	42
Love thoughts lie rich when canopied with bowers.	43

They exit.

Scene 2

Enter Viola, a Captain, and Sailors.

VIOLA What country, friends, is this?	1
CAPTAIN This is Illyria, lady.	2
VIOLA
And what should I do in Illyria?	3
My brother he is in Elysium.	4
Perchance he is not drowned.—What think you,	5
sailors?	6
CAPTAIN
It is perchance that you yourself were saved.	7
VIOLA
O, my poor brother! And so perchance may he be.	8
CAPTAIN
True, madam. And to comfort you with chance,	9
Assure yourself, after our ship did split,	10
When you and those poor number saved with you	11
Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother,	12
Most provident in peril, bind himself	13
(Courage and hope both teaching him the practice)	14
To a strong mast that lived upon the sea,	15
Where, like <Arion> on the dolphin’s back,	16
I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves	17
So long as I could see.	18
VIOLA, <giving him money> For saying so, there’s gold.	19
Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,	20
Whereto thy speech serves for authority,	21
The like of him. Know’st thou this country?	22
CAPTAIN
Ay, madam, well, for I was bred and born	23
Not three hours’ travel from this very place.	24
VIOLA Who governs here?	25
CAPTAIN
A noble duke, in nature as in name.	26
VIOLA What is his name?	27
CAPTAIN Orsino.	28
VIOLA
Orsino. I have heard my father name him.	29
He was a bachelor then.	30
CAPTAIN
And so is now, or was so very late;	31
For but a month ago I went from hence,	32
And then ’twas fresh in murmur (as, you know,	33
What great ones do the less will prattle of)	34
That he did seek the love of fair Olivia.	35
VIOLA What’s she?	36
CAPTAIN
A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count	37
That died some twelvemonth since, then leaving her	38
In the protection of his son, her brother,	39
Who shortly also died, for whose dear love,	40
They say, she hath abjured the sight	41
And company of men.	42
VIOLA O, that I served that lady,	43
And might not be delivered to the world	44
Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,	45
What my estate is.	46
CAPTAIN That were hard to compass	47
Because she will admit no kind of suit,	48
No, not the Duke’s.	49
VIOLA
There is a fair behavior in thee, captain,	50
And though that nature with a beauteous wall	51
Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee	52
I will believe thou hast a mind that suits	53
With this thy fair and outward character.	54
I prithee—and I’ll pay thee bounteously—	55
Conceal me what I am, and be my aid	56
For such disguise as haply shall become	57
The form of my intent. I’ll serve this duke.	58
Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him.	59
It may be worth thy pains, for I can sing	60
And speak to him in many sorts of music	61
That will allow me very worth his service.	62
What else may hap, to time I will commit.	63
Only shape thou thy silence to my wit.	64
CAPTAIN
Be you his eunuch, and your mute I’ll be.	65
When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see.	66
VIOLA I thank thee. Lead me on.	67

They exit.

Scene 3

Enter Sir Toby and Maria.

TOBY What a plague means my niece to take the death	1
of her brother thus? I am sure care’s an enemy to	2
life.	3
MARIA By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier	4
o’ nights. Your cousin, my lady, takes great excep-	5
tions to your ill hours.	6
TOBY Why, let her except before excepted!	7
MARIA Ay, but you must confine yourself within the	8
modest limits of order.	9
TOBY Confine? I’ll confine myself no finer than I am.	10
These clothes are good enough to drink in, and so	11
be these boots too. An they be not, let them hang	12
themselves in their own straps!	13
MARIA That quaffing and drinking will undo you. I	14
heard my lady talk of it yesterday, and of a foolish	15
knight that you brought in one night here to be her	16
wooer.	17
TOBY Who, Sir Andrew Aguecheek?	18
MARIA Ay, he.	19
TOBY He’s as tall a man as any ’s in Illyria.	20
MARIA What’s that to th’ purpose?	21
TOBY Why, he has three thousand ducats a year!	22
MARIA Ay, but he’ll have but a year in all these ducats.	23
He’s a very fool and a prodigal.	24
TOBY Fie, that you’ll say so! He plays o’ th’ viol-de-	25
gamboys, and speaks three or four languages word	26
for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of	27
nature.	28
MARIA He hath indeed, almost natural, for, besides	29
that he’s a fool, he’s a great quarreler, and, but that	30
he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath	31
in quarreling, ’tis thought among the prudent he	32
would quickly have the gift of a grave.	33
TOBY By this hand, they are scoundrels and substrac-	34
tors that say so of him. Who are they?	35
MARIA They that add, moreover, he’s drunk nightly in	36
your company.	37
TOBY With drinking healths to my niece. I’ll drink to	38
her as long as there is a passage in my throat and	39
drink in Illyria. He’s a coward and a coistrel that	40
will not drink to my niece till his brains turn o’ th’	41
toe like a parish top. What, wench! Castiliano vulgo,	42
for here comes Sir Andrew Agueface.	43

Enter Sir Andrew.

ANDREW Sir Toby Belch! How now, Sir Toby Belch?	44
TOBY Sweet Sir Andrew!	45
ANDREW, <to Maria> Bless you, fair shrew.	46
MARIA And you too, sir.	47
TOBY Accost, Sir Andrew, accost!	48
ANDREW What’s that?	49
TOBY My niece’s chambermaid.	50
<ANDREW> Good Mistress Accost, I desire better ac-	51
quaintance.	52
MARIA My name is Mary, sir.	53
ANDREW Good Mistress Mary Accost—	54
TOBY You mistake, knight. “Accost” is front her, board	55
her, woo her, assail her.	56
ANDREW By my troth, I would not undertake her in	57
this company. Is that the meaning of “accost”?	58
MARIA Fare you well, gentlemen.	59

TOBY An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, would thou	60
mightst never draw sword again.	61
ANDREW An you part so, mistress, I would I might	62
never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think you	63
have fools in hand?	64
MARIA Sir, I have not you by th’ hand.	65
ANDREW Marry, but you shall have, and here’s my	66
hand.	67

MARIA, <taking his hand> Now, sir, thought is free. I	68
pray you, bring your hand to th’ butt’ry bar and let	69
it drink.	70
ANDREW Wherefore, sweetheart? What’s your meta-	71
phor?	72
MARIA It’s dry, sir.	73
ANDREW Why, I think so. I am not such an ass but I	74
can keep my hand dry. But what’s your jest?	75
MARIA A dry jest, sir.	76
ANDREW Are you full of them?	77
MARIA Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers’ ends. Marry,	78
now I let go your hand, I am barren.	79

Maria exits.

TOBY O knight, thou lack’st a cup of canary! When did	80
I see thee so put down?	81
ANDREW Never in your life, I think, unless you see	82
canary put me down. Methinks sometimes I have	83
no more wit than a Christian or an ordinary man	84
has. But I am a great eater of beef, and I believe that	85
does harm to my wit.	86
TOBY No question.	87
ANDREW An I thought that, I’d forswear it. I’ll ride	88
home tomorrow, Sir Toby.	89
TOBY Pourquoi, my dear knight?	90
ANDREW What is “pourquoi”? Do, or not do? I would I	91
had bestowed that time in the tongues that I have in	92
fencing, dancing, and bearbaiting. O, had I but	93
followed the arts!	94
TOBY Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair.	95
ANDREW Why, would that have mended my hair?	96
TOBY Past question, for thou seest it will not <curl by>	97
nature.	98
ANDREW But it becomes <me> well enough, does ’t not?	99
TOBY Excellent! It hangs like flax on a distaff, and I	100
hope to see a huswife take thee between her legs	101
and spin it off.	102
ANDREW Faith, I’ll home tomorrow, Sir Toby. Your	103
niece will not be seen, or if she be, it’s four to one	104
she’ll none of me. The Count himself here hard by	105
woos her.	106
TOBY She’ll none o’ th’ Count. She’ll not match above	107
her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit. I have	108
heard her swear ’t. Tut, there’s life in ’t, man.	109
ANDREW I’ll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o’ th’	110
strangest mind i’ th’ world. I delight in masques	111
and revels sometimes altogether.	112
TOBY Art thou good at these kickshawses, knight?	113
ANDREW As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be,	114
under the degree of my betters, and yet I will not	115
compare with an old man.	116
TOBY What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight?	117
ANDREW Faith, I can cut a caper.	118
TOBY And I can cut the mutton to ’t.	119
ANDREW And I think I have the back-trick simply as	120
strong as any man in Illyria.	121
TOBY Wherefore are these things hid? Wherefore have	122
these gifts a curtain before ’em? Are they like to	123
take dust, like Mistress Mall’s picture? Why dost	124
thou not go to church in a galliard and come home	125
in a coranto? My very walk should be a jig. I would	126
not so much as make water but in a sink-a-pace.	127
What dost thou mean? Is it a world to hide virtues	128
in? I did think, by the excellent constitution of thy	129
leg, it was formed under the star of a galliard.	130
ANDREW Ay, ’tis strong, and it does indifferent well in a	131
<dun-colored> stock. Shall we <set> about some	132
revels?	133
TOBY What shall we do else? Were we not born under	134
Taurus?	135
ANDREW Taurus? <That’s> sides and heart.	136
TOBY No, sir, it is legs and thighs. Let me see thee	137
caper. <Sir Andrew dances.> Ha, higher! Ha, ha,	138
excellent!	139

They exit.

Scene 4

Enter Valentine, and Viola in man’s attire <as Cesario.>

VALENTINE If the Duke continue these favors towards	1
you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanced. He	2
hath known you but three days, and already you	3
are no stranger.	4
VIOLA You either fear his humor or my negligence, that	5
you call in question the continuance of his love. Is	6
he inconstant, sir, in his favors?	7
VALENTINE No, believe me.	8
VIOLA I thank you.	9

Enter <Orsino,> Curio, and Attendants.

Here comes the Count.	10
ORSINO Who saw Cesario, ho?	11
VIOLA On your attendance, my lord, here.	12
ORSINO, <to Curio and Attendants>
Stand you awhile aloof.—Cesario,	13
Thou know’st no less but all. I have unclasped	14
To thee the book even of my secret soul.	15
Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her.	16
Be not denied access. Stand at her doors	17
And tell them, there thy fixèd foot shall grow	18
Till thou have audience.	19
VIOLA Sure, my noble lord,	20
If she be so abandoned to her sorrow	21
As it is spoke, she never will admit me.	22
ORSINO
Be clamorous and leap all civil bounds	23
Rather than make unprofited return.	24
VIOLA
Say I do speak with her, my lord, what then?	25
ORSINO
O, then unfold the passion of my love.	26
Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith.	27
It shall become thee well to act my woes.	28
She will attend it better in thy youth	29
Than in a nuncio’s of more grave aspect.	30
VIOLA
I think not so, my lord.	31
ORSINO Dear lad, believe it;	32
For they shall yet belie thy happy years	33
That say thou art a man. Diana’s lip	34
Is not more smooth and rubious, thy small pipe	35
Is as the maiden’s organ, shrill and sound,	36
And all is semblative a woman’s part.	37
I know thy constellation is right apt	38
For this affair.—Some four or five attend him,	39
All, if you will, for I myself am best	40
When least in company.—Prosper well in this	41
And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord,	42
To call his fortunes thine.	43
VIOLA I’ll do my best	44
To woo your lady. <Aside.> Yet a barful strife!	45
Whoe’er I woo, myself would be his wife.	46

They exit.

Scene 5

Enter Maria and <Feste, the Fool.>

MARIA Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I	1
will not open my lips so wide as a bristle may enter	2
in way of thy excuse. My lady will hang thee for thy	3
absence.	4
FOOL Let her hang me. He that is well hanged in this	5
world needs to fear no colors.	6
MARIA Make that good.	7
FOOL He shall see none to fear.	8
MARIA A good Lenten answer. I can tell thee where	9
that saying was born, of “I fear no colors.”	10
FOOL Where, good Mistress Mary?	11
MARIA In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in	12
your foolery.	13
FOOL Well, God give them wisdom that have it, and	14
those that are Fools, let them use their talents.	15
MARIA Yet you will be hanged for being so long absent.	16
Or to be turned away, is not that as good as a	17
hanging to you?	18
FOOL Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage,	19
and, for turning away, let summer bear it out.	20
MARIA You are resolute, then?	21
FOOL Not so, neither, but I am resolved on two points.	22
MARIA That if one break, the other will hold, or, if both	23
break, your gaskins fall.	24
FOOL Apt, in good faith, very apt. Well, go thy way. If Sir	25
Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a	26
piece of Eve’s flesh as any in Illyria.	27
MARIA Peace, you rogue. No more o’ that. Here comes	28
my lady. Make your excuse wisely, you were best.	29

Enter Lady Olivia with Malvolio <and Attendants.>

FOOL <aside> Wit, an ’t be thy will, put me into good	30
fooling! Those wits that think they have thee do very	31
oft prove fools, and I that am sure I lack thee may	32
pass for a wise man. For what says Quinapalus?	33
“Better a witty Fool than a foolish wit.”—God bless	34
thee, lady!	35
OLIVIA Take the Fool away.	36
FOOL Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the Lady.	37
OLIVIA Go to, you’re a dry Fool. I’ll no more of you.	38
Besides, you grow dishonest.	39
FOOL Two faults, madonna, that drink and good coun-	40
sel will amend. For give the dry Fool drink, then is	41
the Fool not dry. Bid the dishonest man mend	42
himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if he	43
cannot, let the botcher mend him. Anything that’s	44
mended is but patched; virtue that transgresses is	45
but patched with sin, and sin that amends is but	46
patched with virtue. If that this simple syllogism	47
will serve, so; if it will not, what remedy? As there is	48
no true cuckold but calamity, so beauty’s a flower.	49
The Lady bade take away the Fool. Therefore, I say	50
again, take her away.	51
OLIVIA Sir, I bade them take away you.	52
FOOL Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, cucullus	53
non facit monachum. That’s as much to say as, I	54
wear not motley in my brain. Good madonna, give	55
me leave to prove you a fool.	56
OLIVIA Can you do it?	57
FOOL Dexteriously, good madonna.	58
OLIVIA Make your proof.	59
FOOL I must catechize you for it, madonna. Good my	60
mouse of virtue, answer me.	61
OLIVIA Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I’ll bide	62
your proof.	63
FOOL Good madonna, why mourn’st thou?	64
OLIVIA Good Fool, for my brother’s death.	65
FOOL I think his soul is in hell, madonna.	66
OLIVIA I know his soul is in heaven, Fool.	67
FOOL The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your	68
brother’s soul, being in heaven. Take away the fool,	69
gentlemen.	70
OLIVIA What think you of this Fool, Malvolio? Doth he	71
not mend?	72
MALVOLIO Yes, and shall do till the pangs of death	73
shake him. Infirmity, that decays the wise, doth	74
ever make the better Fool.	75
FOOL God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the	76
better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will be sworn	77
that I am no fox, but he will not pass his word for	78
twopence that you are no fool.	79
OLIVIA How say you to that, Malvolio?	80
MALVOLIO I marvel your Ladyship takes delight in	81
such a barren rascal. I saw him put down the other	82
day with an ordinary fool that has no more brain	83
than a stone. Look you now, he’s out of his guard	84
already. Unless you laugh and minister occasion to	85
him, he is gagged. I protest I take these wise men	86
that crow so at these set kind of Fools no better than	87
the Fools’ zanies.	88
OLIVIA O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste	89
with a distempered appetite. To be generous, guilt-	90
less, and of free disposition is to take those things	91
for bird-bolts that you deem cannon bullets. There	92
is no slander in an allowed Fool, though he do	93
nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known discreet	94
man, though he do nothing but reprove.	95
FOOL Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for thou	96
speak’st well of Fools!	97

Enter Maria.

MARIA Madam, there is at the gate a young gentleman	98
much desires to speak with you.	99
OLIVIA From the Count Orsino, is it?	100
MARIA I know not, madam. ’Tis a fair young man, and	101
well attended.	102
OLIVIA Who of my people hold him in delay?	103
MARIA Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman.	104
OLIVIA Fetch him off, I pray you. He speaks nothing	105
but madman. Fie on him! <Maria exits.> Go you,	106
Malvolio. If it be a suit from the Count, I am sick,	107
or not at home; what you will, to dismiss it. (Mal-	108
volio exits.) Now you see, sir, how your fooling	109
grows old, and people dislike it.	110
FOOL Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy eldest	111
son should be a Fool, whose skull Jove cram with	112
brains, for—here he comes—one of thy kin has a	113
most weak pia mater.	114

Enter Sir Toby.

OLIVIA By mine honor, half drunk!—What is he at the	115
gate, cousin?	116
TOBY A gentleman.	117
OLIVIA A gentleman? What gentleman?	118
TOBY ’Tis a gentleman here—a plague o’ these pickle	119
herring!—How now, sot?	120
FOOL Good Sir Toby.	121
OLIVIA Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by	122
this lethargy?	123
TOBY Lechery? I defy lechery. There’s one at the gate.	124
OLIVIA Ay, marry, what is he?	125
TOBY Let him be the devil an he will, I care not. Give	126
me faith, say I. Well, it’s all one.	127

He exits.

OLIVIA What’s a drunken man like, Fool?	128
FOOL Like a drowned man, a fool, and a madman. One	129
draught above heat makes him a fool, the second	130
mads him, and a third drowns him.	131
OLIVIA Go thou and seek the crowner and let him sit o’	132
my coz, for he’s in the third degree of drink: he’s	133
drowned. Go look after him.	134
FOOL He is but mad yet, madonna, and the Fool shall	135
look to the madman.	136

Enter Malvolio.

MALVOLIO Madam, yond young fellow swears he will	137
speak with you. I told him you were sick; he takes	138
on him to understand so much, and therefore	139
comes to speak with you. I told him you were	140
asleep; he seems to have a foreknowledge of that	141
too, and therefore comes to speak with you. What is	142
to be said to him, lady? He’s fortified against any	143
denial.	144
OLIVIA Tell him he shall not speak with me.	145
MALVOLIO Has been told so, and he says he’ll stand at	146
your door like a sheriff’s post and be the supporter	147
to a bench, but he’ll speak with you.	148
OLIVIA What kind o’ man is he?	149
MALVOLIO Why, of mankind.	150
OLIVIA What manner of man?	151
MALVOLIO Of very ill manner. He’ll speak with you,	152
will you or no.	153
OLIVIA Of what personage and years is he?	154
MALVOLIO Not yet old enough for a man, nor young	155
enough for a boy—as a squash is before ’tis a	156
peascod, or a codling when ’tis almost an apple. ’Tis	157
with him in standing water, between boy and man.	158
He is very well-favored, and he speaks very shrew-	159
ishly. One would think his mother’s milk were	160
scarce out of him.	161
OLIVIA
Let him approach. Call in my gentlewoman.	162
MALVOLIO Gentlewoman, my lady calls.	163

He exits.

Enter Maria.

OLIVIA
Give me my veil. Come, throw it o’er my face.	164

We’ll once more hear Orsino’s embassy.

165

Enter <Viola.>

VIOLA The honorable lady of the house, which is she?	166
OLIVIA Speak to me. I shall answer for her. Your will?	167
VIOLA Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable	168
beauty—I pray you, tell me if this be the lady of the	169
house, for I never saw her. I would be loath to cast	170
away my speech, for, besides that it is excellently	171
well penned, I have taken great pains to con it. Good	172
beauties, let me sustain no scorn. I am very comp-	173
tible, even to the least sinister usage.	174
OLIVIA Whence came you, sir?	175
VIOLA I can say little more than I have studied, and	176
that question’s out of my part. Good gentle one,	177
give me modest assurance if you be the lady of the	178
house, that I may proceed in my speech.	179
OLIVIA Are you a comedian?	180
VIOLA No, my profound heart. And yet, by the very	181
fangs of malice, I swear I am not that I play. Are	182
you the lady of the house?	183
OLIVIA If I do not usurp myself, I am.	184
VIOLA Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp	185
yourself, for what is yours to bestow is not yours to	186
reserve. But this is from my commission. I will on	187
with my speech in your praise and then show you	188
the heart of my message.	189
OLIVIA Come to what is important in ’t. I forgive you	190
the praise.	191
VIOLA Alas, I took great pains to study it, and ’tis	192
poetical.	193
OLIVIA It is the more like to be feigned. I pray you,	194
keep it in. I heard you were saucy at my gates, and	195
allowed your approach rather to wonder at you than	196
to hear you. If you be not mad, begone; if you have	197
reason, be brief. ’Tis not that time of moon with me	198
to make one in so skipping a dialogue.	199
MARIA Will you hoist sail, sir? Here lies your way.	200
VIOLA No, good swabber, I am to hull here a little	201
longer.—Some mollification for your giant, sweet	202
lady.	203
<OLIVIA> Tell me your mind.	204
<VLOLA> I am a messenger.	205
OLIVIA Sure you have some hideous matter to deliver	206
when the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak your	207
office.	208
VIOLA It alone concerns your ear. I bring no overture	209
of war, no taxation of homage. I hold the olive in	210
my hand. My words are as full of peace as matter.	211
OLIVIA Yet you began rudely. What are you? What	212
would you?	213
VIOLA The rudeness that hath appeared in me have I	214
learned from my entertainment. What I am and	215
what I would are as secret as maidenhead: to your	216
ears, divinity; to any other’s, profanation.	217
OLIVIA Give us the place alone. We will hear this	218
divinity. <Maria and Attendants exit.> Now, sir, what	219
is your text?	220
VIOLA Most sweet lady—	221
OLIVIA A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said	222
of it. Where lies your text?	223
VIOLA In Orsino’s bosom.	224
OLIVIA In his bosom? In what chapter of his bosom?	225
VIOLA To answer by the method, in the first of his heart.	226
OLIVIA O, I have read it; it is heresy. Have you no more	227
to say?	228
VIOLA Good madam, let me see your face.	229
OLIVIA Have you any commission from your lord to	230
negotiate with my face? You are now out of your	231
text. But we will draw the curtain and show you the	232
picture. <She removes her veil.> Look you, sir, such a	233
one I was this present. Is ’t not well done?	234
VIOLA Excellently done, if God did all.	235
OLIVIA ’Tis in grain, sir; ’twill endure wind and	236
weather.	237
VIOLA
’Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white	238
Nature’s own sweet and cunning hand laid on.	239
Lady, you are the cruel’st she alive	240
If you will lead these graces to the grave	241
And leave the world no copy.	242
OLIVIA O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted! I will give	243
out divers schedules of my beauty. It shall be	244
inventoried and every particle and utensil labeled	245
to my will: as, item, two lips indifferent red; item,	246
two gray eyes, with lids to them; item, one neck, one	247
chin, and so forth. Were you sent hither to praise	248
me?	249
VIOLA
I see you what you are. You are too proud.	250
But, if you were the devil, you are fair.	251
My lord and master loves you. O, such love	252
Could be but recompensed though you were	253
crowned	254
The nonpareil of beauty.	255
OLIVIA How does he love me?	256
VIOLA With adorations, fertile tears,	257
With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.	258
OLIVIA
Your lord does know my mind. I cannot love him.	259
Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble,	260
Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth;	261
In voices well divulged, free, learned, and valiant,	262
And in dimension and the shape of nature	263
A gracious person. But yet I cannot love him.	264
He might have took his answer long ago.	265
VIOLA
If I did love you in my master’s flame,	266
With such a suff’ring, such a deadly life,	267
In your denial I would find no sense.	268
I would not understand it.	269
OLIVIA Why, what would you?	270
VIOLA
Make me a willow cabin at your gate	271
And call upon my soul within the house,	272
Write loyal cantons of contemnèd love	273
And sing them loud even in the dead of night,	274
Hallow your name to the reverberate hills	275
And make the babbling gossip of the air	276
Cry out “Olivia!” O, you should not rest	277
Between the elements of air and earth	278
But you should pity me.	279
OLIVIA You might do much.	280
What is your parentage?	281
VIOLA
Above my fortunes, yet my state is well.	282
I am a gentleman.	283
OLIVIA Get you to your lord.	284
I cannot love him. Let him send no more—	285
Unless perchance you come to me again	286
To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well.	287
I thank you for your pains. Spend this for me.	288

VIOLA
I am no fee’d post, lady. Keep your purse.	289
My master, not myself, lacks recompense.	290
Love make his heart of flint that you shall love,	291
And let your fervor, like my master’s, be	292
Placed in contempt. Farewell, fair cruelty.	293

She exits.

OLIVIA “What is your parentage?”	294
“Above my fortunes, yet my state is well.	295
I am a gentleman.” I’ll be sworn thou art.	296
Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit	297
Do give thee fivefold blazon. Not too fast! Soft,	298
soft!	299
Unless the master were the man. How now?	300
Even so quickly may one catch the plague?	301
Methinks I feel this youth’s perfections	302
With an invisible and subtle stealth	303
To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.—	304
What ho, Malvolio!	305

Enter Malvolio.

MALVOLIO Here, madam, at your service.	306
OLIVIA
Run after that same peevish messenger,	307
The County’s man. He left this ring behind him,	308
Would I or not. Tell him I’ll none of it.	309

Desire him not to flatter with his lord,	310
Nor hold him up with hopes. I am not for him.	311
If that the youth will come this way tomorrow,	312
I’ll give him reasons for ’t. Hie thee, Malvolio.	313
MALVOLIO Madam, I will.	314

He exits.

OLIVIA
I do I know not what, and fear to find	315
Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind.	316
Fate, show thy force. Ourselves we do not owe.	317
What is decreed must be, and be this so.	318

ACT 1