Mal. To the vnknowne belou'd, this, and my good Wishes:
Her very Phrases: By your leaue wax. Soft, and the impressure
her Lucrece, with which she vses to seale: tis my
Lady: To whom should this be?
Fab. This winnes him, Liuer and all
Mal. Ioue knowes I loue, but who, Lips do not mooue, no
man must know. No man must know. What followes?
The numbers alter'd: No man must know,
If this should be thee Maluolio?
To. Marrie hang thee brocke
Mal. I may command where I adore, but silence like a Lucresse
knife:
With bloodlesse stroke my heart doth gore, M.O.A.I. doth
sway my life
Fa. A fustian riddle
To. Excellent Wench, say I
Mal. M.O.A.I. doth sway my life. Nay but first
let me see, let me see, let me see
Fab. What dish a poyson has she drest him?
To. And with what wing the stallion checkes at it?
Mal. I may command, where I adore: Why shee may
command me: I serue her, she is my Ladie. Why this is
euident to any formall capacitie. There is no obstruction
in this, and the end: What should that Alphabeticall position
portend, if I could make that resemble something
in me? Softly, M.O.A.I
To. O I, make vp that, he is now at a cold sent
Fab. Sowter will cry vpon't for all this, though it bee
as ranke as a Fox
Mal. M. Maluolio, M. why that begins my name
Fab. Did not I say he would worke it out, the Curre
is excellent at faults
Mal. M. But then there is no consonancy in the sequell
that suffers vnder probation: A. should follow, but O.
does
Fa. And O shall end, I hope
To. I, or Ile cudgell him, and make him cry O
Mal. And then I. comes behind
Fa. I, and you had any eye behinde you, you might
see more detraction at your heeles, then Fortunes before
you
Mal. M,O,A,I. This simulation is not as the former:
and yet to crush this a little, it would bow to mee, for euery
one of these Letters are in my name. Soft, here followes
prose: If this fall into thy hand, reuolue. In my stars
I am aboue thee, but be not affraid of greatnesse: Some
are become great, some atcheeues greatnesse, and some
haue greatnesse thrust vppon em. Thy fates open theyr
hands, let thy blood and spirit embrace them, and to invre
thy selfe to what thou art like to be: cast thy humble
slough, and appeare fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman,
surly with seruants: Let thy tongue tang arguments of
state; put thy selfe into the tricke of singularitie. Shee
thus aduises thee, that sighes for thee. Remember who
commended thy yellow stockings, and wish'd to see thee
euer crosse garter'd: I say remember, goe too, thou art
made if thou desir'st to be so: If not, let me see thee a steward
still, the fellow of seruants, and not woorthie to
touch Fortunes fingers Farewell, Shee that would alter
seruices with thee, the fortunate vnhappy daylight and
champian discouers not more: This is open, I will bee
proud, I will reade politicke Authours, I will baffle Sir
Toby, I will wash off grosse acquaintance, I will be point
deuise, the very man. I do not now foole my selfe, to let
imagination iade mee; for euery reason excites to this,
that my Lady loues me. She did commend my yellow
stockings of late, shee did praise my legge being crosse-garter'd,
and in this she manifests her selfe to my loue, &
with a kinde of iniunction driues mee to these habites of
her liking. I thanke my starres, I am happy: I will bee
strange, stout, in yellow stockings, and crosse Garter'd,
euen with the swiftnesse of putting on. Ioue, and my
starres be praised. Heere is yet a postscript. Thou canst
not choose but know who I am. If thou entertainst my loue, let
it appeare in thy smiling, thy smiles become thee well. Therefore
in my presence still smile, deero my sweete, I prethee. Ioue
I thanke thee, I will smile, I wil do euery thing that thou
wilt haue me.
Exit
Fab. I will not giue my part of this sport for a pension
of thousands to be paid from the Sophy
To. I could marry this wench for this deuice
An. So could I too
To. And aske no other dowry with her, but such another
iest.
Enter Maria.
An. Nor I neither
Fab. Heere comes my noble gull catcher
To. Wilt thou set thy foote o'my necke
An. Or o'mine either?
To. Shall I play my freedome at tray-trip, and becom
thy bondslaue?
An. Ifaith, or I either?
Tob. Why, thou hast put him in such a dreame, that
when the image of it leaues him, he must run mad
Ma. Nay but say true, do's it worke vpon him?
To. Like Aqua vite with a Midwife
Mar. If you will then see the fruites of the sport, mark
his first approach before my Lady: hee will come to her
in yellow stockings, and 'tis a colour she abhorres, and
crosse garter'd, a fashion shee detests: and hee will smile
vpon her, which will now be so vnsuteable to her disposition,
being addicted to a melancholly, as shee is, that it
cannot but turn him into a notable contempt: if you wil
see it follow me
To. To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent diuell
of wit
And. Ile make one too.
Exeunt.
Finis Actus secundus
Actus Tertius, Scaena prima.
Enter Viola and Clowne.
Vio. Saue thee Friend and thy Musick: dost thou liue
by thy Tabor?
Clo. No sir, I liue by the Church
Vio. Art thou a Churchman?
Clo. No such matter sir, I do liue by the Church: For,
I do liue at my house, and my house dooth stand by the
Church
Vio. So thou maist say the Kings lyes by a begger, if a
begger dwell neer him: or the Church stands by thy Tabor,
if thy Tabor stand by the Church
Clo. You haue said sir: To see this age: A sentence is
but a cheu'rill gloue to a good witte, how quickely the
wrong side may be turn'd outward
Vio. Nay that's certaine: they that dally nicely with
words, may quickely make them wanton
Clo. I would therefore my sister had had no name Sir
Vio. Why man?
Clo. Why sir, her names a word, and to dallie with
that word, might make my sister wanton: But indeede,
words are very Rascals, since bonds disgrac'd them
Vio. Thy reason man?
Clo. Troth sir, I can yeeld you none without wordes,
and wordes are growne so false, I am loath to proue reason
with them
Vio. I warrant thou art a merry fellow, and car'st for
nothing
Clo. Not so sir, I do care for something: but in my conscience
sir, I do not care for you: if that be to care for nothing
sir, I would it would make you inuisible
Vio. Art not thou the Lady Oliuia's foole?
Clo. No indeed sir, the Lady Oliuia has no folly, shee
will keepe no foole sir, till she be married, and fooles are
as like husbands, as Pilchers are to Herrings, the Husbands
the bigger, I am indeede not her foole, but hir corrupter
of words
Vio. I saw thee late at the Count Orsino's
Clo. Foolery sir, does walke about the Orbe like the
Sun, it shines euery where. I would be sorry sir, but the
Foole should be as oft with your Master, as with my Mistris:
I thinke I saw your wisedome there
Vio. Nay, and thou passe vpon me, Ile no more with
thee. Hold there's expences for thee
Clo. Now Ioue in his next commodity of hayre, send
thee a beard
Vio. By my troth Ile tell thee, I am almost sicke for
one, though I would not haue it grow on my chinne. Is
thy Lady within?
Clo Would not a paire of these haue bred sir?
Vio. Yes being kept together, and put to vse
Clo. I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia sir, to bring
a Cressida to this Troylus
Vio. I vnderstand you sir, tis well begg'd
Clo. The matter I hope is not great sir; begging, but a
begger: Cressida was a begger. My Lady is within sir. I
will conster to them whence you come, who you are, and
what you would are out of my welkin, I might say Element,
but the word is ouer-worne.
Exit
Vio. This fellow is wise enough to play the foole,
And to do that well, craues a kinde of wit:
He must obserue their mood on whom he iests,
The quality of persons, and the time:
And like the Haggard, checke at euery Feather
That comes before his eye. This is a practice,
As full of labour as a Wise-mans Art:
For folly that he wisely shewes, is fit;
But wisemens folly falne, quite taint their wit.
Enter Sir Toby and Andrew.
To. Saue you Gentleman
Vio. And you sir
And. Dieu vou guard Monsieur
Vio. Et vouz ousie vostre seruiture
An. I hope sir, you are, and I am yours
To. Will you incounter the house, my Neece is desirous
you should enter, if your trade be to her
Vio. I am bound to your Neece sir, I meane she is the
list of my voyage
To. Taste your legges sir, put them to motion
Vio. My legges do better vnderstand me sir, then I vnderstand
what you meane by bidding me taste my legs
To. I meane to go sir, to enter
Vio. I will answer you with gate and entrance, but we
are preuented.
Enter Oliuia, and Gentlewoman.
Most excellent accomplish'd Lady, the heauens raine Odours
on you
And. That youth's a rare Courtier, raine odours, wel
Vio. My matter hath no voice Lady, but to your owne
most pregnant and vouchsafed eare
And. Odours, pregnant, and vouchsafed: Ile get 'em
all three already
Ol. Let the Garden doore be shut, and leaue mee to
my hearing. Giue me your hand sir
Vio. My dutie Madam, and most humble seruice
Ol. What is your name?
Vio. Cesario is your seruants name, faire Princesse
Ol. My seruant sir? 'Twas neuer merry world,
Since lowly feigning was call'd complement:
Y'are seruant to the Count Orsino youth
Vio. And he is yours, and his must needs be yours:
Your seruants seruant, is your seruant Madam
Ol. For him, I thinke not on him: for his thoughts,
Would they were blankes, rather then fill'd with me
Vio. Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts
On his behalfe
Ol. O by your leaue I pray you.
I bad you neuer speake againe of him;
But would you vndertake another suite
I had rather heare you, to solicit that,
Then Musicke from the spheares
Vio. Deere Lady
Ol. Giue me leaue, beseech you: I did send,
After the last enchantment you did heare,
A Ring in chace of you. So did I abuse
My selfe, my seruant, and I feare me you:
Vnder your hard construction must I sit,
To force that on you in a shamefull cunning
Which you knew none of yours. What might you think?
Haue you not set mine Honor at the stake,
And baited it with all th' vnmuzled thoughts
That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiuing
Enough is shewne, a Cipresse, not a bosome,
Hides my heart: so let me heare you speake
Vio. I pittie you
Ol. That's a degree to loue
Vio. No not a grize: for tis a vulgar proofe
That verie oft we pitty enemies
Ol. Why then me thinkes 'tis time to smile agen:
O world, how apt the poore are to be proud?
If one should be a prey, how much the better
To fall before the Lion, then the Wolfe?
Clocke strikes.
The clocke vpbraides me with the waste of time:
Be not affraid good youth, I will not haue you,
And yet when wit and youth is come to haruest,
Your wife is like to reape a proper man:
There lies your way, due West
Vio. Then Westward hoe:
Grace and good disposition attend your Ladyship:
You'l nothing Madam to my Lord, by me:
Ol. Stay: I prethee tell me what thou thinkst of me?
Vio. That you do thinke you are not what you are
Ol. If I thinke so, I thinke the same of you
Vio. Then thinke you right: I am not what I am
Ol. I would you were, as I would haue you be
Vio. Would it be better Madam, then I am?
I wish it might, for now I am your foole
Ol. O what a deale of scorne, lookes beautifull?
In the contempt and anger of his lip,
A murdrous guilt shewes not it selfe more soone,
Then loue that would seeme hid: Loues night, is noone.
Cesario, by the Roses of the Spring,
By maid-hood, honor, truth, and euery thing,
I loue thee so, that maugre all thy pride,
Nor wit, nor reason, can my passion hide:
Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,
For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause:
But rather reason thus, with reason fetter;
Loue sought, is good: but giuen vnsought, is better
Vio. By innocence I sweare, and by my youth,
I haue one heart, one bosome, and one truth,
And that no woman has, nor neuer none
Shall mistris be of it, saue I alone.
And so adieu good Madam, neuer more,
Will I my Masters teares to you deplore
Ol. Yet come againe: for thou perhaps mayst moue
That heart which now abhorres, to like his loue.
Exeunt.
Scoena Secunda.
Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian.
And. No faith, Ile not stay a iot longer:
To. Thy reason deere venom, giue thy reason
Fab. You must needes yeelde your reason, Sir Andrew?
And. Marry I saw your Neece do more fauours to the
Counts Seruing-man, then euer she bestow'd vpon mee:
I saw't i'th Orchard
To. Did she see the while, old boy, tell me that
And. As plaine as I see you now
Fab. This was a great argument of loue in her toward
you
And. S'light; will you make an Asse o'me
Fab. I will proue it legitimate sir, vpon the Oathes of
iudgement, and reason
To. And they haue beene grand Iurie men, since before
Noah was a Saylor
Fab. Shee did shew fauour to the youth in your sight,
onely to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse valour,
to put fire in your Heart, and brimstone in your Liuer:
you should then haue accosted her, and with some excellent
iests, fire-new from the mint, you should haue bangd
the youth into dumbenesse: this was look'd for at your
hand, and this was baulkt: the double gilt of this opportunitie
you let time wash off, and you are now sayld into
the North of my Ladies opinion, where you will hang
like an ysickle on a Dutchmans beard, vnlesse you do redeeme
it, by some laudable attempt, either of valour or
policie
And. And't be any way, it must be with Valour, for
policie I hate: I had as liefe be a Brownist, as a Politician
To. Why then build me thy fortunes vpon the basis of
valour. Challenge me the Counts youth to fight with him
hurt him in eleuen places, my Neece shall take note of it,
and assure thy selfe, there is no loue-Broker in the world,
can more preuaile in mans commendation with woman,
then report of valour
Fab. There is no way but this sir Andrew
An. Will either of you beare me a challenge to him?
To. Go, write it in a martial hand, be curst and briefe:
it is no matter how wittie, so it bee eloquent, and full of
inuention: taunt him with the license of Inke: if thou
thou'st him some thrice, it shall not be amisse, and as many
Lyes, as will lye in thy sheete of paper, although the
sheete were bigge enough for the bedde of Ware in England,
set 'em downe, go about it. Let there bee gaulle enough
in thy inke, though thou write with a Goose-pen,
no matter: about it
And. Where shall I finde you?
To. Wee'l call thee at the Cubiculo: Go.
Exit Sir Andrew.
Fa. This is a deere Manakin to you Sir Toby
To. I haue beene deere to him lad, some two thousand
strong, or so
Fa. We shall haue a rare Letter from him; but you'le
not deliuer't
To. Neuer trust me then: and by all meanes stirre on
the youth to an answer. I thinke Oxen and waine-ropes
cannot hale them together. For Andrew, if he were open'd
and you finde so much blood in his Liuer, as will clog the
foote of a flea, Ile eate the rest of th' anatomy
Fab. And his opposit the youth beares in his visage no
great presage of cruelty.
Enter Maria.
To. Looke where the youngest Wren of mine comes
Mar. If you desire the spleene, and will laughe your
selues into stitches, follow me; yond gull Maluolio is turned
Heathen, a verie Renegatho; for there is no christian
that meanes to be saued by beleeuing rightly, can euer
beleeue such impossible passages of grossenesse. Hee's in
yellow stockings
To. And crosse garter'd?
Mar. Most villanously: like a Pedant that keepes a
Schoole i'th Church: I haue dogg'd him like his murtherer.
He does obey euery point of the Letter that I dropt,
to betray him: He does smile his face into more lynes,
then is in the new Mappe, with the augmentation of the
Indies: you haue not seene such a thing as tis: I can hardly
forbeare hurling things at him, I know my Ladie will
strike him: if shee doe, hee'l smile, and take't for a great
fauour
To. Come bring vs, bring vs where he is.
Exeunt. Omnes.
Scaena Tertia.
Enter Sebastian and Anthonio.
Seb. I would not by my will haue troubled you,
But since you make your pleasure of your paines,
I will no further chide you
Ant. I could not stay behinde you: my desire
(More sharpe then filed steele) did spurre me forth,
And not all loue to see you (though so much
As might haue drawne one to a longer voyage)
But iealousie, what might befall your trauell,
Being skillesse in these parts: which to a stranger,
Vnguided, and vnfriended, often proue
Rough, and vnhospitable. My willing loue,
The rather by these arguments of feare
Set forth in your pursuite
Seb. My kinde Anthonio,
I can no other answer make, but thankes,
And thankes: and euer oft good turnes,
Are shuffel'd off with such vncurrant pay:
But were my worth, as is my conscience firme,
You should finde better dealing: what's to do?
Shall we go see the reliques of this Towne?
Ant. To morrow sir, best first go see your Lodging?
Seb. I am not weary, and 'tis long to night
I pray you let vs satisfie our eyes
With the memorials, and the things of fame
That do renowne this City
Ant. Would youl'd pardon me:
I do not without danger walke these streetes.
Once in a sea-fight 'gainst the Count his gallies,
I did some seruice, of such note indeede,
That were I tane heere, it would scarse be answer'd
Seb. Belike you slew great number of his people
Ant. Th' offence is not of such a bloody nature,
Albeit the quality of the time, and quarrell
Might well haue giuen vs bloody argument:
It might haue since bene answer'd in repaying
What we tooke from them, which for Traffiques sake
Most of our City did. Onely my selfe stood out,
For which if I be lapsed in this place
I shall pay deere
Seb. Do not then walke too open
Ant. It doth not fit me: hold sir, here's my purse,
In the South Suburbes at the Elephant
Is best to lodge: I will bespeake our dyet,
Whiles you beguile the time, and feed your knowledge
With viewing of the Towne, there shall you haue me
Seb. Why I your purse?
Ant. Haply your eye shall light vpon some toy
You haue desire to purchase: and your store
I thinke is not for idle Markets, sir
Seb. Ile be your purse-bearer, and leaue you
For an houre
Ant. To th' Elephant
Seb. I do remember.
Exeunt.
Scoena Quarta.
Enter Oliuia and Maria.
Ol. I haue sent after him, he sayes hee'l come:
How shall I feast him? What bestow of him?
For youth is bought more oft, then begg'd, or borrow'd.
I speake too loud: Where's Maluolio, he is sad, and ciuill,
And suites well for a seruant with my fortunes,
Where is Maluolio?
Mar. He's comming Madame:
But in very strange manner. He is sure possest Madam
Ol. Why what's the matter, does he raue?
Mar. No Madam, he does nothing but smile: your Ladyship
were best to haue some guard about you, if hee
come, for sure the man is tainted in's wits
Ol. Go call him hither.
Enter Maluolio.
I am as madde as hee,
If sad and merry madnesse equall bee.
How now Maluolio?
Mal. Sweet Lady, ho, ho
Ol. Smil'st thou? I sent for thee vpon a sad occasion
Mal. Sad Lady, I could be sad:
This does make some obstruction in the blood:
This crosse-gartering, but what of that?
If it please the eye of one, it is with me as the very true
Sonnet is: Please one, and please all
Mal. Why how doest thou man?
What is the matter with thee?
Mal. Not blacke in my minde, though yellow in my
legges: It did come to his hands, and Commaunds shall
be executed. I thinke we doe know the sweet Romane
hand
Ol. Wilt thou go to bed Maluolio?
Mal. To bed? I sweet heart, and Ile come to thee
Ol. God comfort thee: Why dost thou smile so, and
kisse thy hand so oft?
Mar. How do you Maluolio?
Maluo. At your request:
Yes Nightingales answere Dawes
Mar. Why appeare you with this ridiculous boldnesse
before my Lady
Mal. Be not afraid of greatnesse: 'twas well writ
Ol. What meanst thou by that Maluolio?
Mal. Some are borne great
Ol. Ha?
Mal. Some atcheeue greatnesse
Ol. What sayst thou?
Mal. And some haue greatnesse thrust vpon them
Ol. Heauen restore thee
Mal. Remember who commended thy yellow stockings
Ol. Thy yellow stockings?
Mal. And wish'd to see thee crosse garter'd
Ol. Crosse garter'd?
Mal. Go too, thou art made, if thou desir'st to be so
Ol. Am I made?
Mal. If not, let me see thee a seruant still
Ol. Why this is verie Midsommer madnesse.
Enter Seruant.
Ser. Madame, the young Gentleman of the Count
Orsino's is return'd, I could hardly entreate him backe: he
attends your Ladyships pleasure
Ol. Ile come to him.
Good Maria, let this fellow be look'd too. Where's my
Cosine Toby, let some of my people haue a speciall care
of him, I would not haue him miscarrie for the halfe of
my Dowry.
Exit
Mal. Oh ho, do you come neere me now: no worse
man then sir Toby to looke to me. This concurres directly
with the Letter, she sends him on purpose, that I may
appeare stubborne to him: for she incites me to that in
the Letter. Cast thy humble slough sayes she: be opposite
with a Kinsman, surly with seruants, let thy tongue
langer with arguments of state, put thy selfe into the
tricke of singularity: and consequently setts downe the
manner how: as a sad face, a reuerend carriage, a slow
tongue, in the habite of some Sir of note, and so foorth.
I haue lymde her, but it is Ioues doing, and Ioue make me
thankefull. And when she went away now, let this Fellow
be look'd too: Fellow? not Maluolio, nor after my
degree, but Fellow. Why euery thing adheres togither,
that no dramme of a scruple, no scruple of a scruple, no
obstacle, no incredulous or vnsafe circumstance: What
can be saide? Nothing that can be, can come betweene
me, and the full prospect of my hopes. Well Ioue, not I,
is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked.
Enter Toby, Fabian, and Maria.
To. Which way is hee in the name of sanctity. If all
the diuels of hell be drawne in little, and Legion himselfe
possest him, yet Ile speake to him
Fab. Heere he is, heere he is: how ist with you sir?
How ist with you man?
Mal. Go off, I discard you: let me enioy my priuate:
go off
Mar. Lo, how hollow the fiend speakes within him;
did not I tell you? Sir Toby, my Lady prayes you to haue
a care of him
Mal. Ah ha, does she so?
To. Go too, go too: peace, peace, wee must deale
gently with him: Let me alone. How do you Maluolio?
How ist with you? What man, defie the diuell: consider,
he's an enemy to mankinde
Mal. Do you know what you say?
Mar. La you, and you speake ill of the diuell, how
he takes it at heart. Pray God he be not bewitch'd
Fab. Carry his water to th' wise woman
Mar. Marry and it shall be done to morrow morning
if I liue. My Lady would not loose him for more then ile
say
Mal. How now mistris?
Mar. Oh Lord
To. Prethee hold thy peace, this is not the way: Doe
you not see you moue him? Let me alone with him
Fa. No way but gentlenesse, gently, gently: the Fiend
is rough, and will not be roughly vs'd
To. Why how now my bawcock? how dost y chuck?
Mal. Sir
To. I biddy, come with me. What man, tis not for
grauity to play at cherrie-pit with sathan Hang him foul
Colliar
Mar. Get him to say his prayers, good sir Toby gette
him to pray
Mal. My prayers Minx
Mar. No I warrant you, he will not heare of godlynesse
Mal. Go hang your selues all: you are ydle shallowe
things, I am not of your element, you shall knowe more
heereafter.
Exit
To. Ist possible?
Fa. If this were plaid vpon a stage now, I could condemne
it as an improbable fiction
To. His very genius hath taken the infection of the
deuice man
Mar. Nay pursue him now, least the deuice take ayre,
and taint
Fa. Why we shall make him mad indeede
Mar. The house will be the quieter
To. Come, wee'l haue him in a darke room & bound.
My Neece is already in the beleefe that he's mad: we may
carry it thus for our pleasure, and his pennance, til our very
pastime tyred out of breath, prompt vs to haue mercy
on him: at which time, we wil bring the deuice to the bar
and crowne thee for a finder of madmen: but see, but see.
Enter Sir Andrew.
Fa. More matter for a May morning
An. Heere's the Challenge, reade it: I warrant there's
vinegar and pepper in't
Fab. Ist so sawcy?
And. I, ist? I warrant him: do but read
To. Giue me.
Youth, whatsoeuer thou art, thou art but a scuruy fellow
Fa. Good, and valiant
To. Wonder not, nor admire not in thy minde why I doe call
thee so, for I will shew thee no reason for't
Fa. A good note, that keepes you from the blow of y Law
To. Thou comst to the Lady Oliuia, and in my sight she vses
thee kindly: but thou lyest in thy throat, that is not the matter
I challenge thee for
Fa. Very breefe, and to exceeding good sence-lesse
To. I will way-lay thee going home, where if it be thy chance
to kill me
Fa. Good
To. Thou kilst me like a rogue and a villaine
Fa. Still you keepe o'th windie side of the Law: good
Tob. Fartheewell, and God haue mercie vpon one of our
soules. He may haue mercie vpon mine, but my hope is better,
and so looke to thy selfe. Thy friend as thou vsest him, & thy
sworne enemie, Andrew Ague-cheeke
To. If this Letter moue him not, his legges cannot:
Ile giu't him
Mar. You may haue verie fit occasion for't: he is now
in some commerce with my Ladie, and will by and by
depart