_Enter_ HELENA, Widow, _and_ DIANA.
_Hel._ That you may well perceive I have not wrong'd you,
One of the greatest in the Christian world
Shall be my surety; 'fore whose throne 'tis needful,
Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel:
Time was, I did him a desired office, 5
Dear almost as his life; which gratitude
Through flinty Tartar's bosom would peep forth,
And answer, thanks: I duly am inform'd
His Grace is at Marseilles; to which place
We have convenient convoy. You must know, 10
I am supposed dead: the army breaking,
My husband hies him home; where, heaven aiding,
And by the leave of my good lord the king,
We'll be before our welcome.
_Wid._ Gentle madam,
You never had a servant to whose trust 15
Your business was more welcome.
_Hel._ Nor you, mistress,
Ever a friend whose thoughts more truly labour
To recompense your love: doubt not but heaven
Hath brought me up to be your daughter's dower,
As it hath fated her to be my motive 20
And helper to a husband. But, O strange men!
That can such sweet use make of what they hate,
When saucy trusting of the cozen'd thoughts
Defiles the pitchy night: so lust doth play
With what it loathes for that which is away. 25
But more of this hereafter. You, Diana,
Under my poor instructions yet must suffer
Something in my behalf.
_Dia._ Let death and honesty
Go with your impositions, I am yours
Upon your will to suffer.
_Hel._ Yet, I pray you: 30
But with the word the time will bring on summer,
When briers shall have leaves as well as thorns,
And be as sweet as sharp. We must away;
Our waggon is prepared, and time revives us:
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL: still the fine's the crown; 35
Whate'er the course, the end is the renown. [_Exeunt._
LINENOTES:
SCENE IV.] SCENE VII. Pope.
[3] _'fore_] _for_ F1.
[6] _which_] _for which_ Hanmer.
[9] _is at_] _it_ F2.
_Marseilles_] Rowe (ed. 2). _Marcellæ_ F1. _Marsellis_ F2 F3.
_Marselis_ F4.
[16] _you_] F4. _your_ F1 F2 F3.
[23] _saucy trusting of_] Ff. _fancy trusting in_ Hanmer. _fancy
trusting of_ Warburton.
[30, 31] _I pray you: But with the word_] Ff. _I pray you, Bear with
the word:_ Hanmer. _I pray you, But with the word:_ Capell. _I pray
you,--But with the word,_ Steevens (Henley conj.). _I fray you But
with the word:_ Collier (Blackstone conj.). _I play you But with the
word:_ Jackson conj. _I pray you: But with the world_ Collier MS. _I
pay you But with the word;_ Grant White. _I pay you But with the
word,_ Staunton conj.
[31-33] _But ... away_] _But--with the word 'The time ... sharp,'--we
must away_ Anon. conj.
[34] _revives_] Ff. _reviles_ Hanmer. _revyes_ Warburton. _invites_
Johnson and Heath conj.
[35] _the fine's_] Theobald. _the fines_ F1. _that fines_ F2 F3. _that
finds_ F4.
[36] _course_] _curse_ Rowe (ed. 2).
SCENE V. _Rousillon. The_ COUNT'S _palace._
_Enter_ COUNTESS, LAFEU, _and_ Clown.
_Laf._ No, no, no, your son was misled with a snipt-taffeta
fellow there, whose villanous saffron would have
made all the unbaked and doughy youth of a nation in his
colour: your daughter-in-law had been alive at this hour,
and your son here at home, more advanced by the king 5
than by that red-tailed humble-bee I speak of.
_Count._ I would I had not known him; it was the death
of the most virtuous gentlewoman that ever nature had
praise for creating. If she had partaken of my flesh, and
cost me the dearest groans of a mother, I could not have 10
owed her a more rooted love.
_Laf._ 'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady: we may
pick a thousand salads ere we light on such another herb.
_Clo._ Indeed, sir, she was the sweet-marjoram of the
salad, or rather, the herb of grace. 15
_Laf._ They are not herbs, you knave; they are nose-herbs.
_Clo._ I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir; I have not
much skill in grass.
_Laf._ Whether dost thou profess thyself, a knave or a fool? 20
_Clo._ A fool, sir, at a woman's service, and a knave at a
man's.
_Laf._ Your distinction?
_Clo._ I would cozen the man of his wife and do his service.
_Laf._ So you were a knave at his service, indeed. 25
_Clo._ And I would give his wife my bauble, sir, to do
her service.
_Laf._ I will subscribe for thee, thou art both knave and
fool.
_Clo._ At your service. 30
_Laf._ No, no, no.
_Clo._ Why, sir, if I cannot serve you, I can serve as
great a prince as you are.
_Laf._ Who's that? a Frenchman?
_Clo._ Faith, sir, a' has an English name; but his fisnomy 35
is more hotter in France than there.
_Laf._ What prince is that?
_Clo._ The black prince, sir; alias, the prince of darkness;
alias, the devil.
_Laf._ Hold thee, there's my purse: I give thee not this to 40
suggest thee from thy master thou talkest of; serve him still.
_Clo._ I am a woodland fellow, sir, that always loved a
great fire; and the master I speak of ever keeps a good fire.
But, sure, he is the prince of the world; let his nobility remain
in's court. I am for the house with the narrow gate, 45
which I take to be too little for pomp to enter: some that
humble themselves may; but the many will be too chill
and tender, and they'll be for the flowery way that leads
to the broad gate and the great fire.
_Laf._ Go thy ways, I begin to be aweary of thee; and 50
I tell thee so before, because I would not fall out with thee.
Go thy ways: let my horses be well looked to, without any
tricks.
_Clo._ If I put any tricks upon 'em, sir, they shall be jades'
tricks; which are their own right by the law of nature. 55
[_Exit._
_Laf._ A shrewd knave and an unhappy.
_Count._ So he is. My lord that's gone made himself
much sport out of him: by his authority he remains here,
which he thinks is a patent for his sauciness; and, indeed,
he has no pace, but runs where he will. 60
_Laf._ I like him well; 'tis not amiss. And I was about
to tell you, since I heard of the good lady's death and that
my lord your son was upon his return home, I moved the
king my master to speak in the behalf of my daughter;
which, in the minority of them both, his majesty, out of a 65
self-gracious remembrance, did first propose: his highness
hath promised me to do it: and, to stop up the displeasure
he hath conceived against your son, there is no fitter matter.
How does your ladyship like it?
_Count._ With very much content, my lord; and I wish 70
it happily effected.
_Laf._ His highness comes post from Marseilles, of as
able body as when he numbered thirty: he will be here to-morrow,
or I am deceived by him that in such intelligence
hath seldom failed. 75
_Count._ It rejoices me, that I hope I shall see him ere
I die. I have letters that my son will be here to-night: I
shall beseech your lordship to remain with me till they
meet together.
_Laf._ Madam, I was thinking with what manners I 80
might safely be admitted.
_Count._ You need but plead your honourable privilege.
_Laf._ Lady, of that I have made a bold charter; but I
thank my God it holds yet.
_Re-enter_ Clown.
_Clo._ O madam, yonder's my lord your son with a 85
patch of velvet on's face: whether there be a scar under't
or no, the velvet knows; but 'tis a goodly patch of velvet:
his left cheek is a cheek of two pile and a half, but his right
cheek is worn bare.
_Laf._ A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery 90
of honour; so belike is that.
_Clo._ But it is your carbonadoed face.
_Laf._ Let us go see your son, I pray you: I long to
talk with the young noble soldier.
_Clo._ Faith, there's a dozen of 'em, with delicate fine 95
hats and most courteous feathers, which bow the head and
nod at every man. [_Exeunt._
LINENOTES:
SCENE V.] SCENE VIII. Pope.
COUNTESS,2] Old Lady, Ff.
[5] _advanced_] _advantaged_ Warburton.
[6] _than by that_] _but for that_ Hanmer.
[7] _I had_] _he had_ Hanmer (Theobald conj.).
[13] _salads_] _sallets_ Ff.
[15] _salad_] _sallet_ Ff.
[16] _herbs_] Ff. _sallet-herbs_ Rowe. _pot-herbs_ Collier MS.
[19] _grass_] Rowe. _grace_ Ff.
[24] _his wife_] _this wife_ F2.
[26] _bauble_] _folly_ Hanmer.
[34] _Who's_] F4. _Whose_ F1 F2 F3.
[35] _a'_] _a_ Ff. he Rowe (ed. 2).
_name_] Rowe. _maine_ F1 F2. _main_ F3. _mean_ F4. _mien_ Anon. conj.
[36] _hotter_] _honour'd_ Hanmer (Warburton).
_there_] F1 F2. _here_ F3 F4.
[41] _suggest_] _seduce_ Rowe (ed. 2).
[42] _I am_] _I'm_ Theobald.
[43, 44] _fire But, sure, he ... world;_] _fire, but sure he ...
world,_ Ff. _fire; but since he ... world,_ Hanmer. _fire. But, for he
... world,_ Capell.
[44] _his_] _the_ Collier MS.
[54] _sir_] om. Rowe.
[57] _he_] Rowe. _a_ Ff.
[60] _pace_] _place_ Hanmer.
_runs_] _he runs_ F3 F4.
[72] _Marseilles_] Pope. _Marcellus_ F1. _Marsellis_ F2. _Marselles_
F3 F4.
[73] _he_] Rowe (ed. 2). _a_ Ff. _and_ Rowe (ed. 1).
[76] _It_] _Ir_ F1. _I_ F2.
_that I hope I_] _that hope that I_ Warburton.
[90] Laf.] F1. La. F2 F3 F4. Count Rowe.
[90, 91] _A scar ... that_] Printed as three lines in Ff, ending _got
... honour ... that_.
[92] _carbonadoed_] Theobald. _carbinado'd_ Ff.
[93] Laf.] F1 F3 F4. La. F2 (and frequently in this scene).
[93, 94] _Let us ... soldier_] Printed as three lines in Ff, ending
_see ... talk ... soldier_.
ACT V.
SCENE I. _Marseilles. A street._
_Enter_ HELENA, Widow, _and_ DIANA, _with two_ Attendants.
_Hel._ But this exceeding posting day and night
Must wear your spirits low; we cannot help it:
But since you have made the days and nights as one,
To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs,
Be bold you do so grow in my requital 5
As nothing can unroot you. In happy time;
_Enter a_ Gentleman.
This man may help me to his majesty's ear,
If he would spend his power. God save you, sir.
_Gent._ And you.
_Hel._ Sir, I have seen you in the court of France. 10
_Gent._ I have been sometimes there.
_Hel._ I do presume, sir, that you are not fallen
From the report that goes upon your goodness;
And therefore, goaded with most sharp occasions,
Which lay nice manners by, I put you to 15
The use of your own virtues, for the which
I shall continue thankful.
_Gent._ What's your will?
_Hel._ That it will please you
To give this poor petition to the king,
And aid me with that store of power you have 20
To come into his presence.
_Gent._ The king's not here.
_Hel._ Not here, sir!
_Gent._ Not, indeed:
He hence removed last night and with more haste
Than is his use.
_Wid._ Lord, how we lose our pains!
_Hel._ ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL yet, 25
Though time seem so adverse and means unfit.
I do beseech you, whither is he gone?
_Gent._ Marry, as I take it, to Rousillon;
Whither I am going.
_Hel._ I do beseech you, sir,
Since you are like to see the king before me, 30
Commend the paper to his gracious hand,
Which I presume shall render you no blame
But rather make you thank your pains for it.
I will come after you with what good speed
Our means will make us means.
_Gent._ This I'll do for you. 35
_Hel._ And you shall find yourself to be well thank'd,
Whate'er falls more. We must to horse again.
Go, go, provide. [_Exeunt._
LINENOTES:
Marseilles. A street.] Capell. The Court of France. Pope.
[3] _you have_] _you've_ Pope.
[6] Enter a Gentleman.] Rowe. Enter a gentle Astringer. F1. Enter a
gentle Astranger. F2. Enter a Gentleman a stranger. F3 F4.
[16] _virtues_] _virtue_ S. Walker conj.
[29] _I do_] _I_ Hanmer.
[35] _make us means._] _make us._ Anon. conj.
[36-38] Printed as prose in Ff. First as verse by Pope.
SCENE II. _Rousillon._ _Before the_ COUNT'S _palace_.
_Enter_ Clown, _and_ PAROLLES, _following_.
_Par._ Good Monsieur Lavache, give my Lord Lafeu this
letter: I have ere now, sir, been better known to you, when
I have held familiarity with fresher clothes; but I am now,
sir, muddied in fortune's mood, and smell somewhat strong
of her strong displeasure. 5
_Clo._ Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it
smell so strongly as thou speakest of: I will henceforth eat
no fish of fortune's buttering. Prithee, allow the wind.
_Par._ Nay, you need not to stop your nose, sir; I
spake but by a metaphor. 10
_Clo._ Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my
nose; or against any man's metaphor. Prithee, get thee
further.
_Par._ Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper.
_Clo._ Foh! prithee, stand away: a paper from fortune's 15
close-stool to give to a nobleman! Look, here he comes
himself.
_Enter_ LAFEU.
Here is a purr of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's cat,--but not
a musk-cat,--that has fallen into the unclean fishpond of
her displeasure, and, as he says, is muddied withal: pray 20
you, sir, use the carp as you may; for he looks like a poor,
decayed, ingenious, foolish, rascally knave. I do pity his
distress in my similes of comfort and leave him to your
lordship. [_Exit._
_Par._ My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly 25
scratched.
_Laf._ And what would you have me to do? 'Tis too
late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the
knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who of
herself is a good lady and would not have knaves thrive 30
long under her? There's a quart d'écu for you: let the
justices make you and fortune friends: I am for other
business.
_Par._ I beseech your honour to hear me one single
word. 35
_Laf._ You beg a single penny more: come, you shall
ha't; save your word.
_Par._ My name, my good lord, is Parolles.
_Laf._ You beg more than 'word,' then. Cox my passion!
give me your hand. How does your drum? 40
_Par._ O my good lord, you were the first that found
me!
_Laf._ Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost
thee.
_Par._ It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace, 45
for you did bring me out.
_Laf._ Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon me at
once both the office of God and the devil? One brings thee
in grace and the other brings thee out. [_Trumpets sound._]
The king's coming; I know by his trumpets. Sirrah, inquire 50
further after me; I had talk of you last night: though
you are a fool and a knave, you shall eat; go to, follow.
_Par._ I praise God for you. [_Exeunt._
LINENOTES:
SCENE II. Before ... palace.] Edd. Inner-court of the palace. Capell.
following.] Capell. ill-favoured. Collier MS.
[1] _Monsieur_] _Mr_ Ff. _Lavache_] Edd. (Tollet conj.).
_Lavatch_ Ff. _Lapatch_ Jervis conj.
[4] _mood_] _moat_ Theobald. See note (XVII).
[10] _spake_] F1. _speake_ F2. _speak_ F3 F4.
[12] _or against_] _against_ Theobald.
[18] _Here_] Clo. _Here_ Ff.
_purr_] _purre_ F1 F2 F3. _pur_ F4. _puss_ Mason conj.
_or of_] _or_ Warburton.
[19] _musk-cat_] Theobald. _Muscat_ Ff. _mouse-cat_ Anon. conj.
_has_] _hath_ Pope.
[22] _ingenious_] _ingenuous_ Anon. conj.
[23] _similes_] Theobald (Warburton). _smiles_ Ff.
[31] _under her?_] F2 F3 F4. _under?_ F1.
_quart'd'écu_] Pope. _cardecue_ Ff.
[36] _You_] _If you_ Anon. conj.
[39] _'word'_] _word_ F1 F2. _one word_ F3 F4. _a word Collier_
(Egerton MS.).
[45] _lies in you_] _lies on you_ Capell.
[49] [Trumpets sound.] Sound trumpets. Theobald, om. Ff.
SCENE III. _Rousillon. The_ COUNT'S _palace_.
_Flourish. Enter_ KING, COUNTESS, LAFEU, _the two_ French Lords, _with_
Attendants.
_King._ We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem
Was made much poorer by it: but your son,
As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know
Her estimation home.
_Count._ 'Tis past, my liege;
And I beseech your majesty to make it 5
Natural rebellion, done i' the blaze of youth;
When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force,
O'erbears it and burns on.
_King._ My honour'd lady,
I have forgiven and forgotten all;
Though my revenges were high bent upon him, 10
And watch'd the time to shoot.
_Laf._ This I must say,
But first I beg my pardon, the young lord
Did to his majesty, his mother and his lady
Offence of mighty note; but to himself
The greatest wrong of all. He lost a wife 15
Whose beauty did astonish the survey
Of richest eyes, whose words all ears took captive,
Whose dear perfection hearts that scorn'd to serve
Humbly call'd mistress.
_King._ Praising what is lost
Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him hither; 20
We are reconciled, and the first view shall kill
All repetition: let him not ask our pardon;
The nature of his great offence is dead,
And deeper than oblivion we do bury
The incensing relics of it: let him approach, 25
A stranger, no offender; and inform him
So 'tis our will he should.
_Gent._ I shall, my liege. [_Exit._
_King._ What says he to your daughter? have you spoke?
_Laf._ All that he is hath reference to your highness.
_King._ Then shall we have a match. I have letters sent me 30
That set him high in fame.
_Enter_ BERTRAM.
_Laf._ He looks well on't.
_King._ I am not a day of season,
For thou mayst see a sunshine and a hail
In me at once: but to the brightest beams
Distracted clouds give way; so stand thou forth; 35
The time is fair again.
_Ber._ My high-repented blames,
Dear sovereign, pardon to me.
_King._ All is whole;
Not one word more of the consumed time.
Let's take the instant by the forward top;
For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees 40
The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time
Steals ere we can effect them. You remember
The daughter of this lord?
_Ber._ Admiringly, my liege, at first
I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart 45
Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue:
Where the impression of mine eye infixing,
Contempt his scornful perspective did lend me,
Which warp'd the line of every other favour;
Scorn'd a fair colour, or express'd it stolen; 50
Extended or contracted all proportions
To a most hideous object: thence it came
That she whom all men praised and whom myself,
Since I have lost, have loved, was in mine eye
The dust that did offend it.
_King._ Well excused: 55
That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away
From the great compt: but love that comes too late.
Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried,
To the great sender turns a sour offence,
Crying 'That's good that's gone.' Our rash faults 60
Make trivial price of serious things we have,
Not knowing them until we know their grave:
Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust,
Destroy our friends and after weep their dust:
Our own love waking cries to see what's done, 65
While shameful hate sleeps out the afternoon.
Be this sweet Helen's knell, and now forget her.
Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin:
The main consents are had; and here we'll stay
To see our widower's second marriage-day. 70
_Count._ Which better than the first, O dear heaven, bless!
Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cesse!
_Laf._ Come on, my son, in whom my house's name
Must be digested, give a favour from you
To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter, 75
That she may quickly come. [_Bertram gives a ring._] By my old beard,
And every hair that's on't, Helen, that's dead,
Was a sweet creature: such a ring as this,
The last that e'er I took her leave at court,
I saw upon her finger.
_Ber._ Hers it was not. 80
_King._ Now, pray you, let me see it; for mine eye,
While I was speaking, oft was fasten'd to't.
This ring was mine; and, when I gave it Helen,
I bade her, if her fortunes ever stood
Necessitied to help, that by this token 85
I would relieve her. Had you that craft, to reave her
Of what should stead her most?
_Ber._ My gracious sovereign,
Howe'er it pleases you to take it so,
The ring was never hers.
_Count._ Son, on my life,
I have seen her wear it; and she reckon'd it 90
At her life's rate.
_Laf._ I am sure I saw her wear it.
_Ber._ You are deceived, my lord; she never saw it:
In Florence was it from a casement thrown me,
Wrapp'd in a paper, which contain'd the name
Of her that threw it: noble she was, and thought 95
I stood engaged: but when I had subscribed
To mine own fortune and inform'd her fully
I could not answer in that course of honour
As she had made the overture, she ceased
In heavy satisfaction and would never 100
Receive the ring again.
_King._ Plutus himself,
That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine,
Hath not in nature's mystery more science
Than I have in this ring: 'twas mine, 'twas Helen's,
Whoever gave it you. Then, if you know 105
That you are well acquainted with yourself,
Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement
You got it from her: she call'd the saints to surety
That she would never put it from her finger,
Unless she gave it to yourself in bed, 110
Where you have never come, or sent it us
Upon her great disaster.
_Ber._ She never saw it.
_King._ Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine honour;
And makest conjectural fears to come into me,
Which I would fain shut out. If it should prove 115
That thou art so inhuman,--'twill not prove so;--
And yet I know not: thou didst hate her deadly,
And she is dead; which nothing, but to close
Her eyes myself, could win me to believe,
More than to see this ring. Take him away. 120
[_Guards seize Bertram._
My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall,
Shall tax my fears of little vanity,
Having vainly fear'd too little. Away with him!
We'll sift this matter further.
_Ber._ If you shall prove
This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy 125
Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence,
Where yet she never was. [_Exit, guarded._
_King._ I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings.
_Enter a Gentleman._
_Gent._ Gracious sovereign,
Whether I have been to blame or no, I know not:
Here's a petition from a Florentine, 130
Who hath for four or five removes come short
To tender it herself. I undertook it,
Vanquish'd thereto by the fair grace and speech
Of the poor suppliant, who by this I know
Is here attending: her business looks in her 135
With an importing visage; and she told me,
In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern
Your highness with herself.
_King._ [_reads_] Upon his many protestations to marry me
when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won me. Now is the 140
Count Rousillon a widower: his vows are forfeited to me, and my
honour's paid to him. He stole from Florence, taking no leave, and
I follow him to his country for justice: grant it me, O king! in
you it best lies; otherwise a seducer flourishes, and a poor maid is
undone. DIANA CAPILET. 145
_Laf._ I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll for
this: I 'll none of him.
_King._ The heavens have thought well on thee, Lafeu,
To bring forth this discovery. Seek these suitors:
Go speedily and bring again the count. 150
I am afeard the life of Helen, lady,
Was foully snatch'd.
_Count._ Now, justice on the doers!
_Re-enter_ BERTRAM, _guarded_.
_King._ I wonder, sir, sith wives are monsters to you,
And that you fly them as you swear them lordship,
Yet you desire to marry.
_Enter_ Widow _and_ DIANA.
What woman's that? 155
_Dia._ I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine,
Derived from the ancient Capilet:
My suit, as I do understand, you know,
And therefore know how far I may be pitied.
_Wid._ I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour 160
Both suffer under this complaint we bring,
And both shall cease, without your remedy.
_King._ Come hither, count; do you know these women?
_Ber._ My lord, I neither can nor will deny
But that I know them: do they charge me further? 165
_Dia._ Why do you look so strange upon your wife?
_Ber._ She's none of mine, my lord.
_Dia._ If you shall marry,
You give away this hand, and that is mine;
You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine;
You give away myself, which is known mine; 170
For I by vow am so embodied yours,
That she which marries you must marry me,
Either both or none.
_Laf._ Your reputation comes too short for my daughter;
you are no husband for her. 175
_Ber._ My lord, this a fond and desperate creature,
Whom sometime I have laugh'd with: let your highness
Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour
Than for to think that I would sink it here.
_King._ Sir, for my thoughts, you have them ill to friend 180
Till your deeds gain them: fairer prove your honour
Than in my thought it lies.
_Dia._ Good my lord,
Ask him upon his oath, if he does think
He had not my virginity.
_King._ What say'st thou to her?
_Ber._ She's impudent, my lord, 185
And was a common gamester to the camp.
_Dia._ He does me wrong, my lord; if I were so,
He might have bought me at a common price:
Do not believe him. O, behold this ring,
Whose high respect and rich validity 190
Did lack a parallel; yet for all that
He gave it to a commoner o' the camp,
If I be one.
_Count._ He blushes, and 'tis it:
Of six preceding ancestors, that gem,
Conferr'd by testament to the sequent issue, 195
Hath it been owed and worn. This is his wife;
That ring's a thousand proofs.
_King._ Methought you said
You saw one here in court could witness it.
_Dia._ I did, my lord, but loath am to produce
So bad an instrument: his name's Parolles. 200
_Laf._ I saw the man to-day, if man he be.
_King._ Find him, and bring him hither.
[_Exit an Attendant._
_Ber._ What of him?
He's quoted for a most perfidious slave,
With all the spots o' the world tax'd and debosh'd;
Whose nature sickens but to speak a truth. 205
Am I or that or this for what he'll utter,
That will speak any thing?
_King._ She hath that ring of yours.
_Ber._ I think she has: certain it is I liked her,
And boarded her i' the wanton way of youth:
She knew her distance, and did angle for me, 210
Madding my eagerness with her restraint,
As all impediments in fancy's course
Are motives of more fancy; and, in fine,
Her infinite cunning, with her modern grace,
Subdued me to her rate: she got the ring; 215
And I had that which any inferior might
At market-price have bought.
_Dia._ I must be patient:
You, that have turn'd off a first so noble wife,
May justly diet me. I pray you yet,
Since you lack virtue I will lose a husband, 220
Send for your ring, I will return it home,
And give me mine again.
_Ber._ I have it not.
_King._ What ring was yours, I pray you?
_Dia._ Sir, much like
The same upon your finger.
_King._ Know you this ring? this ring was his of late. 225
_Dia._ And this was it I gave him, being a-bed.
_King._ The story then goes false, you threw it him
Out of a casement.
_Dia._ I have spoke the truth.
_Enter_ PAROLLES.
_Ber._ My lord, I do confess the ring was hers.
_King._ You boggle shrewdly, every feather starts you. 230
Is this the man you speak of?
_Dia._ Ay, my lord.
_King._ Tell me, sirrah, but tell me true, I charge you,
Not fearing the displeasure of your master,
Which on your just proceeding I'll keep off,
By him and by this woman here what know you? 235
_Par._ So please your majesty, my master hath been
an honourable gentleman: tricks he hath had in him, which
gentlemen have.
_King._ Come, come, to the purpose: did he love this
woman? 240
_Par._ Faith, sir, he did love her; but how?
_King._ How, I pray you?
_Par._ He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves a woman.
_King._ How is that?
_Par._ He loved her, sir, and loved her not. 245
_King._ As thou art a knave, and no knave. What an
equivocal companion is this!
_Par._ I am a poor man, and at your majesty's command.
_Laf._ He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty orator.
_Dia._ Do you know he promised me marriage? 250
_Par._ Faith, I know more than I'll speak.
_King._ But wilt thou not speak all thou knowest?
_Par._ Yes, so please your majesty. I did go between
them, as I said; but more than that, he loved her: for indeed
he was mad for her, and talked of Satan, and of Limbo, 255
and of Furies, and I know not what: yet I was in that
credit with them at that time, that I knew of their going to
bed, and of other motions, as promising her marriage, and
things which would derive me ill will to speak of; therefore
I will not speak what I know. 260
_King._ Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst
say they are married: but thou art too fine in thy evidence;
therefore stand aside.
This ring, you say, was yours?
_Dia._ Ay, my good lord.
_King._ Where did you buy it? or who gave it you? 265
_Dia._ It was not given me, nor I did not buy it.
_King._ Who lent it you?
_Dia._ It was not lent me neither.
_King._ Where did you find it, then?
_Dia._ I found it not.
_King._ If it were yours by none of all these ways,
How could you give it him?
_Dia._ I never gave it him. 270
_Laf._ This woman's an easy glove, my lord; she goes
off and on at pleasure.
_King._ This ring was mine; I gave it his first wife.
_Dia._ It might be yours or hers, for aught I know.
_King._ Take her away; I do not like her now; 275
To prison with her: and away with him.
Unless thou tell'st me where thou hadst this ring,
Thou diest within this hour.
_Dia._ I'll never tell you.
_King._ Take her away.
_Dia._ I'll put in bail, my liege.
_King._ I think thee now some common customer. 280
_Dia._ By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you.
_King._ Wherefore hast thou accused him all this while?
_Dia._ Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty:
He knows I am no maid, and he'll swear to't;
I'll swear I am a maid, and he knows not. 285
Great king, I am no strumpet, by my life;
I am either maid, or else this old man's wife.
_King._ She does abuse our ears: to prison with her.
_Dia._ Good mother, fetch my bail. Stay, royal sir:
[_Exit Widow._
The jeweller that owes the ring is sent for, 290
And he shall surety me. But for this lord,
Who hath abused me, as he knows himself,
Though yet he never harm'd me, here I quit him:
He knows himself my bed he hath defiled;
And at that time he got his wife with child: 295
Dead though she be, she feels her young one kick:
So there's my riddle,--One that's dead is quick:
And now behold the meaning.
_Re-enter_ Widow, _with_ HELENA.
_King._ Is there no exorcist
Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes?
Is't real that I see?
_Hel._ No, my good lord; 300
'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see,
The name and not the thing.
_Ber._ Both, both. O, pardon!
_Hel._ O my good lord, when I was like this maid,
I found you wondrous kind. There is your ring;
And, look you, here's your letter; this it says: 305
'When from my finger you can get this ring
And are by me with child,' &c. This is done:
Will you be mine, now you are doubly won?
_Ber._ If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly,
I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly. 310
_Hel._ If it appear not plain and prove untrue,
Deadly divorce step between me and you!
O my dear mother, do I see you living?
_Laf._ Mine eyes smell onions; I shall weep anon:
[_To Parolles_] Good Tom Drum, lend me a handkercher: so, 315
I thank thee: wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee:
Let thy courtesies alone, they are scurvy ones.
_King._ Let us from point to point this story know,
To make the even truth in pleasure flow.
[_To Diana_] If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower, 320
Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower;
For I can guess that by thy honest aid
Thou kept'st a wife herself, thyself a maid.
Of that and all the progress, more or less,
Resolvedly more leisure shall express: 325
All yet seems well; and if it end so meet,
The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. [_Flourish._
LINENOTES:
SCENE III. The Count's palace.] A Room of State in the Palace. Capell.
COUNTESS] old Lady Ff.
[1] _of her_] F1 F2. om. F3 F4.
_esteem_] _estate_ Warburton conj. (withdrawn).
[6] _blaze_] Warburton. _blade_ Ff.
[8] _O'erbears ... burns_] _O'er-bear ... burn_ Hanmer.
[12, 13] _But ... lady_] Hanmer these lines at _did ... lady_.
[21] _We are_] _We're_ Pope.
[23] _nature_] _matter_ Hanmer.
[24] _we do_] _do we_ Reed.
[28] _What ... spoke?_] As two lines in Ff, ending _daughter ...
spoke?_
[30, 31] Printed as prose in Ff. First as verse by Pope.
[31] _set_] Rowe. _sets_ Ff.
[32] _I am_] _I'm_ Pope.
SCENE IV. Pope.
Enter Bertram.] Enter Count Bertram. Ff.
[39] _forward_] _forehead_ Anon. conj.
[44] _Admiringly, my liege, at first_] F3 F4. _Admiringly my liege, at
first_ F1 F2. _Admiringly, my liege. At first_ Rowe. _Admiringly, my
liege. Even at first_ Hanmer. _Admiringly, my liege; at the first
sight_ Capell. _Admiringly. My liege, at first_ Collier.
[49] _warp'd_] _warpt_ F1 F2. _wrapt_ F3 F4.
[50] _Scorn'd_] _Scorch'd_ Hanmer (Warburton). _Scors'd_ Becket conj.
[58, 59] _Like ... offence,_] (_Like ... To an offender_) _turns to
sour repentance_Hanmer.
_carried, ... sender_] Theobald. _carried ... sender,_ Ff. _carried,
... sender_, Rowe.
[59] _sour_] _sore_ Collier MS.
[60] _that's gone_] _that is gone_ Rowe (ed. 2).
_Our_] _Our own_ Capell.
_faults_] _thoughts_ Long MS.
[61] _trivial_] _triviall_ F1 F2. _triall_ F3. _trial_ F4.
[65, 66] _Our ... afternoon_] omitted in Collier MS.
[65] _own_] _old_ Collier (Mason conj.).
[66] _shameful hate_] _shapeful hate_ F4. _shame full late_ W. G. C.
(Fras. Mag.) conj.
_sleeps_] _slept_ Johnson conj.
[67, 68] _forget her ... fair Maudlin_] _forget ... Margaret_ Anon.
conj.
[71] Count.] Theobald. Continued to King in Ff. _O dear_] _dear_
Lloyd conj.
[72] _meet_,] Rowe. _meet_ F1 F2. _meet_ F3 F4.
_in me_] _in one_ Long MS. _cesse_] F1. _ceasse_ F2. _ceass_ F3.
_cease_ F4.
[74] _digested_] F1 F4. _disgested_ F2 F3.
[76] [B. gives a ring.] Hanmer.
[79] _that e'er I_] _that ere I_ Ff. _that e'er she_ Rowe. _time e'er
she_ Hanmer. _time, ere she_ Collier (Collier MS.).
_that ... leave_] _leave that I took of her_ Jervis conj.
[85] _Necessitied_] F1 F2 F3. _Necessited_ F4.
[90] _I have_] _I've_ Pope.
[91] _life's_] Rowe. _lives_ Ff.
_I am_] _I'm_ Pope.
[96] _engaged_] Rowe. _ingag'd_ Ff. _ungag'd_ Theobald. _in gage_
Jackson conj.
[101] _Plutus_] Rowe (ed. 2). _Platus_] Ff.
[110] _yourself_] _you selfe_ F2.
[114] _conjectural_] _connecturall_ F1.
[115] _would fain_] _should fain_ Capell (corrected in MS.).
_out._] _out_, F1 F2 F3. _out_; F4.
[120] [_Guards_ seize B.] Rowe.
[122] _tax_] F3 F4. _taxe_ F2. _taze_ F1.
[127] [Exit, guarded.] Rowe.
[128] SCENE v. Pope.
_I am_] _I'm_ Pope.
_thinkings_] _thinking_ Rowe.
Enter....] Ff (after line 127). Enter the Astringer. Grant White.
[129] _I have_] _I've_ Pope.
_to blame_] _too blame_ Ff.
[131] _hath_] _had_ Heath conj.
_for four_] _some four_ Warburton.
[136] _importing_] _important_ Boswell (1821).
[139] King, [reads] A letter. Ff. The King reads a letter. Rowe.
[143] _his_] F1 F2. _this_ F3 F4.
[144] _you it best_] _your breast it_ Hanmer.
[145, 157] _Capilet_] Ff. _Capulet_ Rowe.
[146] _fair_] _faire_ F1. _feare_ F2. _fear_ F3 F4.
_and toll_] _a toule_ Becket conj.
[146, 147] _toll for this_: _I'll_] _toule for this. Ile_ F1. _toule
him for this. Ile_ F2 F3 F4. _toll for him. For this, I'll_ Theobald,
_toll him: for this, I'll_ Steevens. _toll: for this, I'll_ Collier
(Mason conj.). _towl him: for this, I'll_ Grant White.
[147] _this ... him_] _him ... this_ Anon, conj.
[150] [Exeunt some Attendants. Capell. Exeunt Gentleman and some
Attendants. Malone.
[151] _afeard_] _afraid_ Rowe.
[152] Re-enter B., guarded.] Capell. Enter Bertram. Ff (after line
150).
[153] _sir, sith wives are monsters_
Dyce. _sir, sir, wives are monsters_ F1. _sir, wives are such
monsters_ F2. _sir, wives are so monstrous_ F3 F4. _sir, since wives
are monsters_ Steevens (Tyrwhitt conj.). _sir, sin wives are monsters_
Becket conj. _sir, for wives are monsters_ Collier (Egerton MS.).
[154] _them lordship_] _to them_ Rowe (ed. 2). _them worship_ Anon.
conj.
[155] _marry_] _wed_ Pope.
Enter Widow and Diana.
Enter Widdow, Diana, and Parolles. Ff. Re-enter Gentleman with Widow
and Diana. Malone. Enter the Astringer with ... Grant White.
[157] _Capilet_] _Capulets_ Heath conj.
[163] _hither_] F2 F3 F4. _hether_ F1.
_count; do you_] _count; do you not_ Hanmer. _count; say, do you_
Capell. _county, do you_ S. Walker conj.
[168] _that is_] _this is_ or _that were_ Seymour conj.
[170] _myself_] _my flesh_ Hanmer.
[174] _too_] om. Hanmer, who reads lines 174, 175 as verse, ending
_comes ... her._
[To Bertram. Rowe.
[179] _Than for_] _Than e'er_ Pope. _Than so_ Collier MS.
[181] _them: fairer_] Hanmer (Theobald conj.). _them fairer_: Ff.
[182] _Good_] _Now, good_ Hanmer.
[192, 204] _o'_] Rowe. _a'_ Ff.
[193] Count.] Coun. F1. Boun. F2. Old La. F3 F4.
_'tis it_] Capell. _'tis hit_ Ff. _'tis his_ Pope. _is hit_ Malone
conj. _'tis fit_ Henley conj.
[195] _to the sequent_] _to 'th sequent_ F1 F2. _to th' sequent_ F3
F4. _to th' subsequent_ Pope.
[196] _it_] _so_ Hanmer.
[202] [Exit an Attendant. Dyce.
_him?_] F2 F3 F4. _him_: F1.
[205] _Whose nature sickens but ... truth._] Hanmer. _Whose nature
sickens: but ... truth,_ Ff. _Which nature sickens with: but to speak
truth_, Rowe.
[210] _for me_] F1. _of me_ F2 F3 F4.
[214] _infinite cunning_] Singer (S. Walker conj.). _insuite comming_
F1. _insuit comming_ F2 F3. _insuit coming_ F4. _in suit coming_
Hanmer. _insuit cunning_ Easy conj. _instant comity_ Bubier conj.
_infinite ... grace_] _own suit joining with her mothers, scarce_
Heath conj.
_modern_] _modest_ Long MS.
[216] _any_] _an_ or _my_ S. Walker conj.
[218] _have turn'd off_] Ff. _turn'd off_ Rowe (ed. 2).
[219] _diet_] _edict_ Jackson conj.
[221] _it_] _this_ Hanmer.
[223, 224] _Sir, ... finger_] Metre as in Capell. As one line in Ff.
_Much like that same upon your finger, sir._ Hanmer.
[228] Dia. _I have ... truth_] omitted by Rowe.
[Enter P.] Ff. Re-enter Attendant, with P. Dyce (after line 230).
[229] SCENE VI. Pope.
[231] _Ay_] _It is_ Theobald.
[232] _Tell me, sirrah_] _Now tell me, sirrah_ Capell.
_sirrah, but tell me true_] _but tell me true, sirrah_ Hanmer.
[236] _gentleman_] _gentlemen_ F2.
[241, 242] _but how?_ King. _How_,] King. _But how, how_, Malone
conj.
[243] _gentleman_] Rowe. _Gent._ Ff.
[246] _knave._] _knave_, Ff. _knave_; Rowe.
[252] _But_] _What_! Capell conj.
[254] _than that, he_] F4. _then that_ _he_ F1 F2. _then that, he_ F3.
_loved her_:] _lov'd her_,--Capell.
[259] _which_] F1 F2. _that_ F3 F4.
[261-263] Collier prints as three lines ending _canst ... fine ...
aside._
[266] _nor I did not_] F1 F2. _nor did not_ F3 F4. _nor did I_
Theobald.
[270] _gave it_] _gave't_ S. Walker conj.
[281] _Jove_] _God_ Nicholson conj.
[To Lafeu. Hanmer.
[287] _I am_] _I'm_ Pope.
_old_] om. Long MS.
[Pointing to Laf. Rowe.
[289] [Exit Widow.] Pope.
[298] Re-enter...] Capell. Enter Hellen and Widow. Ff.
[307] _And are_] Rowe. _And is_ Ff.
_This is done_] _This now is done_ Hanmer.
[315-317] Hanmer prints as three lines ending _handkerchief, ... with
thee: ... ones._
[315] [To Parolles] Rowe.
_Good ... handkercher_] as a verse in Ff. _Now good._... Hanmer.
_handkercher_] _handkerchief_ Rowe.
[316] _I thank_] _'thank_ Hanmer.
[320] [To Diana] Rowe.
[323] _Thou kept'st_] _Thou'st kept_ Anon. conj.
_kept'st_] _keptst_ F1. _keeptst_ F2. _keepest_ F3 F4. _keep'st_ Rowe
(ed. 1). _kep'st_ Rowe (ed. 2).
[324] _or_] _and_ Theobald.
[325] _Resolvedly_] F4. _Resoldvedly_ F1. _Resoldv'dly_ F2 F3.
[327] [Flourish.] Ff. Exeunt. Rowe.
EPILOGUE.
_King._ The king's a beggar, now the play is done:
All is well ended, if this suit be won,
That you express content; which we will pay,
With strife to please you, day exceeding day:
Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts; 5
Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts.
[_Exeunt._
LINENOTES:
EPILOGUE.] Rowe. EPILOGUE spoken by the King. Pope. Advancing. Capell.
[4.] _strife_] _strift_ F1.
_exceeding_] _succeeding._ See note (XVIII).
NOTES.
NOTE I.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. In the Folios Rousillon is spelt, almost without
exception, 'Rossillion,' and Helena in the stage directions 'Hellen.' As
the Clown's name occurs in the play we have introduced it among the
'Dramatis Personæ,' changing however the spelling from 'Lavatch' to
'Lavache.'
Violenta, whose name occurs in the stage direction at the beginning of
Act III. Sc. 5, is a mute personage, but as it is possible that Diana's
first speech in that scene should be given to her, we have retained the
name in the list.
NOTE II.
I. 1. 153. It cannot be doubted that there is some omission here. The
editors, except Steevens, who is satisfied with the text as it stands,
substantially agree either with Hanmer's emendation or Malone's. Mr
Grant White, however, thinks that in either case the transition would be
too abrupt and that the passage omitted was longer and more important.
If it were not for the
'Pretty fond adoptious christendoms
That blinking Cupid gossips,'
we should be inclined to suppose that the whole passage was by another
hand. Indeed all the foregoing dialogue between Helena and Parolles is a
blot on the play. Mr Badham (_Cambridge Essays_, 1856, p. 256) would
strike out the whole passage (105-152) from 'Ay, you have &c.' to 'Will
you any thing with it?' as an interpolation.
NOTE III.
I. 3. 50. No one has been able to discover the origin of the names
'Charbon' and 'Poysam,' or to guess at any probable meaning for them.
Yet it is not likely that they should have been given at random. Is it
possible that Shakespeare may have written 'Chairbonne' and 'Poisson,'
alluding to the respective lenten fare of the Puritan and the Papist?
The same suggestion was made independently by Mr Easy (_Notes and
Queries_, 3rd S. IV. 106) after the present note was in the printers'
hands (Ibid. p. 203).
NOTE IV.
I. 3. 106. We have not inserted Theobald's admirable emendation in the
text, because it is probable that something more has been omitted,
perhaps a whole line of the MS.
Becket would transpose the sentences and read thus:
'... level. This she delivered ... exclaim in.--Queen of Virgins! that
... afterward. This I held....'
We take this opportunity of saying that many of Becket's proposed
changes are so sweeping that we found it impossible to record them in
the compass of a foot-note, and at the same time so improbable, that we
did not think it worth while to record them separately at the end.
NOTE V.
I. 3. 118. We have followed the Folios in placing Helena's entry after
line 118, rather than after 126, as most recent editors have done. The
Countess may be supposed to be observing Helena earnestly as she enters
with slow step and downcast eyes. Her words have thus more force and
point.
NOTE VI.
II. 1. 1, 2. The editors have for the most part followed Hanmer's
correction 'lord ... lord' for 'lords ... lords,' the reading of the
Folios, on the ground that there is no reason why the lords who are
taking leave should be divided into two sections. But from the stage
direction 'divers young Lords,' it is clear that there are more than
two. Mr Staunton thinks that the king first addresses himself to the
young lords in general, and then turns to the two who are spokesmen in
the scene and bids them share in the advice just given to their
companions.
We rather incline to think that the young lords are divided into two
sections according as they intended to take service with the
'Florentines' or the 'Senoys.' The king had said, I. 2. 13-15]
Yet, for our gentlemen that mean to see
The Tuscan service, freely have they leave
To stand on either part.
Throughout this scene the two speakers whom Rowe and all subsequent
editors have called 'First' and 'Second Lord' are called in the Folios
'Lord G.' and 'Lord E.' In all likelihood, as Capell has suggested, the
parts were originally played by two actors whose names began
respectively with G and E; and, in fact, in the list of 'Principall
Actors' prefixed to the first Folio we find the names 'Gilburne,'
'Goughe' and 'Ecclestone.' The same actors doubtless took the parts of
the two gentlemen who bring the letter to Helena in the 2nd scene of Act
III., and who in the stage directions of the Folio are termed '_Fren.
G._' and '_Fren. E._' Mr Collier indeed interprets these words to mean
'French Envoy' and 'French Gentleman,' but they are spoken of as 'two
gentlemen' in the stage direction at line 41, and one was as much an
'envoy' as the other. This interpretation moreover leaves the 'G.' and
'E.' of the former scene and of subsequent scenes quite unexplained.
Some have supposed the 'two gentlemen' of III. 1, to be the same as the
'two lords' of II. 1, and as far as the action of the Drama is
concerned, there is no reason why they should not be, but when the two
lords reappear in III. 6 they are introduced thus; 'Enter Count
Rossillion and the Frenchmen, as at first:' which seems to prove that
the two gentlemen were different persons though played by the same
actors. In this latter scene the two lords are called Cap. G. and Cap.
E. according to their rank in the Florentine service. The confusion of
speakers in the dialogue at the close of this scene will be remedied if
we suppose the Folio to have printed _Cap. G._ by mistake for _Cap. E._
in line 97 and _Cap. E._ for _Cap. G._ in lines 99, 105. 'Lord E.'
appears again in IV. 1, and 'Cap. G.' and 'Cap. E.' in IV. 3.
NOTE VII.
II. 1. 3. Johnson in his note to this passage says that all the latter
copies have '... if both again,' and that Sir T. Hanmer reads 'if both
gain all.' The statement as to Hanmer's reading was corrected in the
'Steevens and Johnson' of 1793, but that as to all the latter copies,
though equally erroneous, was allowed to remain.
NOTE VIII.
II. 1. 23. In the absence of any guidance from the Folios we have
thought it better to follow Pope, who makes the king leave the stage,
than Capell, who supposes that he retires to a couch. Bertram and
Parolles could hardly, consistently with the etiquette of a court, or
indeed the rules of good manners (of which Shakespeare had an
instinctive knowledge), carry on a whispered conversation in the royal
presence. The king we may suppose is carried out on a couch. When
Bertram says, 'Stay: the king,' the ushers in attendance throw open the
folding doors at the back of the stage, Bertram and Parolles retire
close to one of the side doors, and while they are speaking together
then the king is borne in upon his couch to the front of the stage. To
say that the king retires to a couch, as Capell does, would imply that
he was able to walk, but from what Lafeu says, lines 61, 62, it is clear
that he could not even stand. We must therefore suppose that he is
reclining on a couch throughout the whole scene. Thus, at his first
appearance, his illness would be made evident to the spectators. After
they have set the couch down, the attendants retire to the back of the
stage so as to be out of ear-shot.
NOTE IX.
II. 1. 46. As printed in the Folios, the words 'what will ye do?' seem
to be a taunt addressed, after the speaker's manner, to the young lords
when their backs were turned and they were out of hearing.
NOTE X.
II. 1. 142. The correction made by Theobald is found also in a MS. note
on the margin of the copy of the first Folio, which belongs to Lord
Ellesmere, i.e. 'ffits' for 'shifts.' Theobald's emendation 'loneliness'
for 'loveliness,' I. 3. 162, is also found there.
NOTE XI.
II. 3. 282. In the margin of the third Folio belonging to the Capell
collection an unknown hand has made the correction 'detested' for
'detected.'
NOTE XII.
II. 5. 36. Another reading proposed by an anonymous correspondent of
Theobald's will be found in his Letters to Warburton, Nichols'
_Illustrations_, II. 346.
NOTE XIII.
III. 3. 3. Mr Grant White says that the Folio has merely '_Sir
it_'--'_is_' having dropped out. He appears to have quoted from the
reprint of the first Folio, published in 1808. The copies to which we
have access read '_Sir it is_.'
NOTE XIV.
III. 7. 22. In this, as in so many other cases, Capell was the first to
restore the true reading from F1. Steevens follows him, but as usual
without acknowledgement. Sometimes as at V. 3. 193, he passes his
authority over in silence, sometimes as at I. 2. 35, he sedulously
attributes to some one else that which was undoubtedly Capell's by
priority of publication. At IV. 3. 152 he assigns to an anonymous
correspondent a reading which Hanmer had introduced. Steevens probably
derived his knowledge of it from Capell, who had adopted it. Such
unworthy practices go far to explain and justify the enmities of which
Steevens was the object during his life-time.
NOTE XV.
IV. 2. 25. The word _Jove's_ has here probably been substituted for the
original _God's_ in obedience to the statute against profanity. Read
_'God's'_ and all is plain. 'How,' asks Diana, 'can you believe me if I
swear by the purity and holiness of God to do an impure and unholy
deed?'
Johnson said in his note that he could hardly distinguish whether the
reading of the first Folio were _Iove's_ or _Love's_. Ritson, who was
not ashamed lusco dicere 'lusce,' taunted him bitterly.
NOTE XVI.
IV. 3. 55. Mr Singer says that the old copy (meaning the first Folio)
misprints _selfe_ for _itselfe_. Mr Collier tells us that some copies of
F1 have _itselfe_. All the copies we know of read it _selfe_.
NOTE XVII.
V. 2. 4. Warburton adopts Theobald's reading and copies in substance his
note, but he has not claimed it in his copy of Theobald's edition. The
conjecture was originally made in one of Theobald's letters to
Warburton, Capell adopted the emendation, but afterwards repented.
NOTE XVIII.
EPILOGUE, 4. Mr Collier, in his second edition, quotes this substitution
of 'succeeding' for 'exceeding,' but does not say by whom it was
proposed.
TWELFTH NIGHT;
OR,
WHAT YOU WILL.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ[9].
ORSINO, Duke of Illyria.
SEBASTIAN, brother to Viola.
ANTONIO, a sea captain, friend to Sebastian.
A Sea Captain, friend to Viola.
VALENTINE, }
}gentlemen attending on the Duke.
CURIO, }
SIR TOBY BELCH, uncle to Olivia.
SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK.
MALVOLIO, steward to Olivia.
FABIAN, }
} servants to Olivia.
FESTE, a Clown, }
OLIVIA.
VIOLA.
MARIA, Olivia's woman.
Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians, and other Attendants.
SCENE: _A city in Illyria, and the sea-coast near it._
FOOTNOTE:
[9] First given by Rowe. See note (I).
TWELFTH NIGHT;
OR,
WHAT YOU WILL.
ACT I.
SCENE I. _An apartment in the_ DUKE'S _palace_.
_Enter_ DUKE, CURIO, _and other_ Lords; Musicians _attending_.
_Duke._ If music be the food of love, play on;
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.
That strain again! it had a dying fall:
O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound, 5
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour! Enough; no more:
'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou!
That, notwithstanding thy capacity 10
Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,
Of what validity and pitch soe'er,
But falls into abatement and low price,
Even in a minute! so full of shapes is fancy,
That it alone is high fantastical. 15
_Cur._ Will you go hunt, my lord?
_Duke._ What, Curio?
_Cur._ The hart.
_Duke._ Why, so I do, the noblest that I have:
O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first,
Methought she purged the air of pestilence! 20
That instant was I turn'd into a hart;
And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,
E'er since pursue me.
_Enter_ VALENTINE.
How now! what news from her?
_Val._ So please my lord, I might not be admitted;
But from her handmaid do return this answer: 25
The element itself, till seven years' heat,
Shall not behold her face at ample view;
But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk
And water once a day her chamber round
With eye-offending brine: all this to season 30
A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh
And lasting in her sad remembrance.
_Duke._ O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame
To pay this debt of love but to a brother,
How will she love, when the rich golden shaft 35
Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else
That live in her; when liver, brain and heart,
These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and fill'd
Her sweet perfections with one self king!
Away before me to sweet beds of flowers: 40
Love-thoughts lie rich when canopied with bowers.
[_Exeunt._
LINENOTES:
TWELFTH NIGHT] TWELFE NIGHT F1.
Musicians ...] Musick ... Capell. om. Ff.
[2, 3] _surfeiting, The appetite may_] _surfeiting The app'tite, Love
may_ Warburton.
[5] _sound_] Ff. _wind_ Rowe (ed. 1). _south_ Pope. _sou' wind_ Anon.
conj. _scent_ Dent MS. apud Halliwell. _sough_ Anon. conj.
[11] _sea_,] Rowe (ed. 2). _sea_. Ff. _sea_; Rowe (ed. 1).
[14] _is fancy_] _in fancy_ Theobald (Warburton).
[15] That it alone is] _And thou all o'er art_ Hanmer.
_high_] _hight_ Warburton.
[16] _Curio_] _Curia_ F4.
[19] _mine_] _my_ Pope (ed. 2).
[20] _Methought_ ... _pestilence!_] (_Methought_ ... _pestilence_)
Capell.
[23] _E'er_] Rowe. _Ere_ F1 F2 F4. _E're_ F3.
Enter V.] Ff (_after her_).
[26] _years' heat_] Harness. _yeares heate_ F1 F2. _yeares heat_ F3.
_years heat_ F4. _years hence_ Rowe (ed. 2). See note (II).
[29] _chamber_] F1. _chambers_ F2 F3 F4. _chamber's_ Capell.
[32] _remembrance_] _remembrance still_ Pope, _rememberance_ Capell
conj. MS.
[38] _These_] _Three_ Hanmer (Warburton).
[38, 39] _are ... fill'd Her ... perfections_] _are ... fill'd_, (_O
sweet perfection!_) Warburton conj. _are ... filled_, _Her ...
perfections_, Pope. _are ... fill'd_, (_Her sweet perfection_) Capell.
her ... perfections Are ... fill'd Collier conj.
[39] _self_] _selfe_ F1. _selfe same_ F2. _self same_ F3. _self-same_
F4.
[41] _Love-thoughts_] F1 F2 F3. _Love thoughts_ F4.
SCENE II. _The sea-coast._
_Enter_ VIOLA, _a_ Captain, _and_ Sailors.
_Vio._ What country, friends, is this?
_Cap._ This is Illyria, lady.
_Vio._ And what should I do in Illyria?
My brother he is in Elysium.
Perchance he is not drown'd: what think you, sailors? 5
_Cap._ It is perchance that you yourself were saved.
_Vio._ O my poor brother! and so perchance may he be.
_Cap._ True, madam: and, to comfort you with chance,
Assure yourself, after our ship did split,
When you and those poor number saved with you 10
Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother,
Most provident in peril, bind himself,
Courage and hope both teaching him the practice,
To a strong mast that lived upon the sea;
Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back, 15
I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves
So long as I could see.
_Vio._ For saying so, there's gold:
Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,
Whereto thy speech serves for authority, 20
The like of him. Know'st thou this country?
_Cap._ Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and born
Not three hours' travel from this very place.
_Vio._ Who governs here?
_Cap._ A noble Duke, in nature as in name. 25
_Vio._ What is his name?
_Cap._ Orsino.
_Vio._ Orsino! I have heard my father name him:
He was a bachelor then.
_Cap._ And so is now, or was so very late; 30
For but a month ago I went from hence,
And then 'twas fresh in murmur,--as, you know,
What great ones do the less will prattle of,--
That he did seek the love of fair Olivia.
_Vio._ What's she? 35
_Cap._ A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count
That died some twelvemonth since; then leaving her
In the protection of his son, her brother,
Who shortly also died: for whose dear love,
They say, she hath abjured the company 40
And sight of men.
_Vio._ O that I served that lady,
And might not be delivered to the world,
Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,
What my estate is!
_Cap._ That were hard to compass;
Because she will admit no kind of suit, 45
No, not the Duke's.
_Vio._ There is a fair behaviour in thee, captain;
And though that nature with a beauteous wall
Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee
I will believe thou hast a mind that suits 50
With this thy fair and outward character.
I prithee, and I'll pay thee bounteously,
Conceal me what I am, and be my aid
For such disguise as haply shall become
The form of my intent. I'll serve this Duke: 55
Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him:
It may be worth thy pains; for I can sing,
And speak to him in many sorts of music,
That will allow me very worth his service.
What else may hap to time I will commit; 60
Only shape thou thy silence to my wit.
_Cap._ Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be:
When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see.
_Vio._ I thank thee: lead me on. [_Exeunt._
LINENOTES:
SCENE II.: The sea-coast] Capell. The street. Rowe.
[2] _This is_] om. Pope.
[7] _and so_] _so_ Pope.
[10] _those_] _that_ Rowe (ed. 2). _this_ Capell. _the_ Anon. conj.
[11] _our_] _your_ Rowe.
_driving_] _droving_ F3 F4.
[15] _Arion_] Pope. _Orion_ Ff.
[18] _For ... gold_] _There's gold for saying so_ Pope.
[21] _Know'st_] _And knowest_ Hanmer.
[24-27] _Who ... Orsino_] As two lines in Hanmer, ending _nature ...
Orsino._
[25] _in name_] _in his name_ Hanmer.
[29-35] _He was ... she?_] As six lines in Steevens (1793), ending,
_now, ... month ... fresh ... do, ... seek ... she?_
[37] _twelvemonth_] _twelve months_ Rowe.
[39] _love_] _loss_ S. Walker conj.
[40] _hath_] F1. _had_ F2 F3 F4.
[40, 41] _company And sight_] Hanmer. _sight And company_ Ff.
[42] _And_] _And't_ Hanmer.
_delivered_] _deliver'd_ Rowe.
[43] _mellow_,] Hanmer. _mellow_ Ff. _fellow_ Anon. conj.
[50] _will_] _weil_ S. Walker conj.
SCENE III. OLIVIA'S _house._
_Enter_ Sir TOBY BELCH _and_ MARIA.
_Sir To._ What a plague means my niece, to take the death
of her brother thus? I am sure care's an enemy to life.
_Mar._ By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier
o' nights: your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions to
your ill hours. 5
_Sir Toby._ Why, let her except, before excepted.
_Mar._ Ay, but you must confine yourself within the
modest limits of order.
_Sir To._ Confine! I'll confine myself no finer than I
am: these clothes are good enough to drink in; and so be 10
these boots too: an they be not, let them hang themselves
in their own straps.
_Mar._ That quaffing and drinking will undo you: I
heard my lady talk of it yesterday; and of a foolish knight
that you brought in one night here to be her wooer. 15
_Sir To._ Who, Sir Andrew Aguecheek?
_Mar._ Ay, he.
_Sir To._ He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria.
_Mar._ What's that to the purpose?
_Sir To._ Why, he has three thousand ducats a year. 20
_Mar._ Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats:
he's a very fool and a prodigal.
_Sir To._ Fie, that you'll say so! he plays o' the viol-de-gamboys,
and speaks three or four languages word for word
without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature. 25
_Mar._ He hath indeed, almost natural: for besides
that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller; and but that he
hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath in quarrelling,
'tis thought among the prudent he would quickly
have the gift of a grave. 30
_Sir To._ By this hand, they are scoundrels and substractors
that say so of him. Who are they?
_Mar._ They that add, moreover, he's drunk nightly in
your company.
_Sir To._ With drinking healths to my niece: I 'll drink 35
to her as long as there is a passage in my throat and drink
in Illyria: he's a coward and a coystrill that will not drink
to my niece till his brains turn o' the toe like a parish-top.
What, wench! Castiliano vulgo; for here comes Sir Andrew
Agueface. 40
_Enter_ Sir ANDREW AGUECHEEK.
_Sir And._ Sir Toby Belch! how now, Sir Toby Belch!
_Sir To._ Sweet Sir Andrew!
_Sir And._ Bless you, fair shrew.
_Mar._ And you too, sir.
_Sir To._ Accost, Sir Andrew, accost. 45
_Sir And._ What's that?
_Sir To._ My niece's chambermaid.
_Sir And._ Good Mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance.
_Mar._ My name is Mary, sir. 50
_Sir And._ Good Mistress Mary Accost,--
_Sir To._ You mistake, knight: 'accost' is front her, board
her, woo her, assail her.
_Sir And._ By my troth, I would not undertake her in
this company. Is that the meaning of 'accost'? 55
_Mar._ Fare you well, gentlemen.
_Sir To._ An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, would thou
mightst never draw sword again.
_Sir And._ An you part so, mistress, I would I might
never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think you have 60
fools in hand?
_Mar._ Sir, I have not you by the hand.
_Sir And._ Marry, but you shall have; and here's my
hand.
_Mar._ Now, sir, 'thought is free': I pray you, bring your 65
hand to the buttery-bar and let it drink.
_Sir And._ Wherefore, sweet-heart? what's your metaphor?
_Mar._ It's dry, sir.
_Sir And._ Why, I think so: I am not such an ass but I 70
can keep my hand dry. But what's your jest?
_Mar._ A dry jest, sir.
_Sir And._ Are you full of them?
_Mar._ Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers' ends: marry,
now I let go your hand, I am barren. [_Exit._ 75
_Sir To._ O knight, thou lackest a cup of canary: when
did I see thee so put down?
_Sir And._ Never in your life, I think; unless you see
canary put me down. Methinks sometimes I have no more
wit than a Christian or an ordinary man has: but I am a 80
great eater of beef and I believe that does harm to my wit.
_Sir To._ No question.
_Sir And._ An I thought that, I'ld forswear it. I'll ride
home to-morrow, Sir Toby.
_Sir To._ Pourquoi, my dear knight? 85
_Sir And._ What is 'pourquoi'? do or not do? I would
I had bestowed that time in the tongues that I have in
fencing, dancing and bear-baiting: O, had I but followed
the arts!
_Sir To._ Then hadst thou had an excellent head of 90
hair.
_Sir And._ Why, would that have mended my hair?
_Sir To._ Past question; for thou seest it will not curl
by nature.
_Sir And._ But it becomes me well enough, does't not? 95
_Sir To._ Excellent; it hangs like flax on a distaff; and
I hope to see a housewife take thee between her legs and
spin it off.
_Sir And._ Faith, I'll home to-morrow, Sir Toby: your
niece will not be seen; or if she be, it's four to one she'll 100
none of me: the count himself here hard by woos her.
_Sir To._ She'll none o' the count: she'll not match
above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; I have
heard her swear't. Tut, there's life in't, man.
_Sir And._ I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o' 105
the strangest mind i' the world; I delight in masques and
revels sometimes altogether.
_Sir To._ Art thou good at these kickshawses, knight?
_Sir And._ As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be,
under the degree of my betters; and yet I will not compare 110
with an old man.
_Sir To._ What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight?
_Sir And._ Faith, I can cut a caper.
_Sir To._ And I can cut the mutton to't.
_Sir And._ And I think I have the back-trick simply as 115
strong as any man in Illyria.
_Sir To._ Wherefore are these things hid? wherefore
have these gifts a curtain before 'em? are they like to take
dust, like Mistress Mall's picture? why dost thou not go to
church in a galliard and come home in a coranto? My 120
very walk should be a jig; I would not so much as make
water but in a sink-a-pace. What dost thou mean? Is it
a world to hide virtues in? I did think, by the excellent
constitution of thy leg, it was formed under the star of a
galliard. 125
_Sir And._ Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent well
in a flame-coloured stock. Shall we set about some revels?
_Sir To._ What shall we do else? were we not born
under Taurus?
_Sir And._ Taurus! That's sides and heart. 130
_Sir To._ No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let me see thee
caper: ha! higher: ha, ha! excellent! [_Exeunt._
LINENOTES:
SCENE III.: OLIVIA'S house.] Rowe.
[4] _o'_] Capell. _a_ Ff.
_cousin_] _neice_ Rowe (ed. 2).
[6] _except_,] Ff. _except_ Hanmer.
_before_] _as before_ Rann (Farmer conj.).
[11] _an_] Theobald. _and_ Ff. _if_ Pope.
[18] _any's_] _any_ Pope.
[20] _has_] F3 F4. _ha's_ F1 F2.
[23, 24] _viol-de-gamboys_] _viol-de-gambo_ Rowe.
[26] _indeed, almost_] _indeed all_, _most_ Collier (Upton conj.).
[28] _gust_] _gift_ Meredith conj.
[31] _substractors_] _subtractors_ Warburton.
[33] _that add, moreover,_] _add, moreover, that_ Anon. conj.
[36] _there is_] _there's_ Pope (ed. 2).
[37] _coystrill_] _coystril_ F4. _kestrel_ Hanmer.
[39] _vulgo_] _volto_ Hanmer (Warburton). _volgo_ Johnson.
[40] _Agueface_] _Auge-cheek_ Theobald.
[41] SCENE IV. Pope.
Enter ...] Enter Sir Andrew. Ff.
[48] Sir And.] Ma. F1.
_acquaintance_] _acquaintance_-- S. Walker conj. See note (III).
[51] _Mary Accost_] Rowe. _Mary, accost_ Ff.
[52, 53] _board her_] _bourd her_ Whalley conj. _bourd with her_
Steevens conj.
[57] _An thou let part_] Capell. _And thou let part_ F1 F2. _And thou
let her part_ F3 F4. _If thou let her part_ Pope. _An thou let her
part_ Theobald.
[59] _An_] Theobald. _And_ Ff. _If_ Pope.
[65] _Now_] _Nay_ S. Walker conj.
[74] _Fingers'_] _fingers_ F1 F2. _finger_ F3 F4. _finger's_ Steevens.
[75] [Exit.] Exit Maria. Ff.
[79] _put me_] F1. _put_ F2 F3 F4.
[80] _has_] F4. _ha's_ F1 F2 F3.
[83] _An_] Theobald. _And_ Ff. _If_ Pope.
[85] _Pourquoi_] _Pur-quoy_ Ff.
[93, 94] _curl by_] Theobald. _cool my_ Ff.
[95] _me_] _we_ F1.
[101, 102] _count_] Ff. _Duke_ Rowe.
[104] _swear't_] _sweare t_ F1. _sweare_ F2. _swear_ F3 F4. _swear it_
Theobald.
[108] _kickshawses_] F3. _kicke-chawses_ F1 F2. _kick-shaws_ F4.
[111] _an old man_] _a nobleman_ Theobald conj.
[112] _excellence_] _excellence?_ Mason conj.
[115] [Dances fantastically. Collier (Collier MS.).
[120] _coranto_] Rowe (ed. 2). _carranto_ Ff.
[122] _sink-a-pace_] _cinque-pace_ Hanmer.
[123] _think_] _not think_ Rowe.
[127] _in a_] _in_ Warburton.
_flame-coloured_] Rowe (ed. 2). _dam'd colour'd_ Ff. _damask-coloured_
Knight. _dun-colour'd_ Collier MS. _damson-coloured_ Phelps conj.
_dove-coloured_ Anon. conj.
_stock_] _stocke_ F1 F2. stocken F3 F4. _stocking_ Pope.
_set_] Rowe (ed. 2). _sit_ Ff.
[130] _That's_] F3 F4. _That_ F1 F2.
[132] [Sir A. dances again. Collier (Collier MS.).
SCENE IV. _The_ DUKE'S _palace._
_Enter_ VALENTINE, _and_ VIOLA _in man's attire._
_Val._ If the Duke continue these favours towards you,
Cesario, you are like to be much advanced: he hath known
you but three days, and already you are no stranger.
_Vio._ You either fear his humour or my negligence,
that you call in question the continuance of his love: is he 5
inconstant, sir, in his favours?
_Val._ No, believe me.
_Vio._ I thank you. Here comes the count.
_Enter_ DUKE, CURIO, _and_ Attendants.
_Duke._ Who saw Cesario, ho?
_Vio._ On your attendance, my lord; here. 10
_Duke._ Stand you a while aloof. Cesario,
Thou know'st no less but all; I have unclasp'd
To thee the book even of my secret soul:
Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her;
Be not denied access, stand at her doors, 15
And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow
Till thou have audience.
_Vio._ Sure, my noble lord,
If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow
As it is spoke, she never will admit me.
_Duke._ Be clamorous and leap all civil bounds 20
Rather than make unprofited return.
_Vio._ Say I do speak with her, my lord, what then?
_Duke._ O, then unfold the passion of my love,
Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith:
It shall become thee well to act my woes; 25
She will attend it better in thy youth
Than in a nuncio's of more grave aspect.
_Vio._ I think not so, my lord.
_Duke._ Dear lad, believe it;
For they shall yet belie thy happy years,
That say thou art a man: Diana's lip 30
Is not more smooth and rubious; thy small pipe
Is as the maiden's organ, shrill and sound;
And all is semblative a woman's part.
I know thy constellation is right apt
For this affair. Some four or five attend him; 35
All, if you will; for I myself am best
When least in company. Prosper well in this,
And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord,
To call his fortunes thine.
_Vio._ I'll do my best
To woo your lady: [_Aside_] yet, a barful strife! 40
Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife. [_Exeunt._
LINENOTES:
SCENE IV.] SCENE V. Pope.
The DUKE'S palace.] The Palace. Rowe.
[8] _count_] Ff. _Duke_ Rowe.
[9] Enter ...] Ff (after line 7).
CURIO, and Attendants.] attended. Capell.
[27] _nuncio's_] Ff. _nuncio_ Theobald.
[32] _and sound_] _in sound_ ANON. conj.
[40] _lady_] _lady_ [Exit Duke] Johnson.
[_Aside_] Capell.
_a barful_] F4. _a barrefull_ F1 F2 F3. _O baneful_ Pope. _O barful_
Collier (Thirlby conj. MS.), _a woeful_ Daniel conj.
SCENE V. OLIVIA'S _house._
_Enter_ MARIA _and_ CLOWN.
_Mar._ Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I
will not open my lips so wide as a bristle may enter in way
of thy excuse: my lady will hang thee for thy absence.
_Clo._ Let her hang me: he that is well hanged in this
world needs to fear no colours. 5
_Mar._ Make that good.
_Clo._ He shall see none to fear.
_Mar._ A good lenten answer: I can tell thee where that
saying was born, of 'I fear no colours.'
_Clo._ Where, good Mistress Mary? 10
_Mar._ In the wars; and that may you be bold to say
in your foolery.
_Clo._ Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and
those that are fools, let them use their talents.
_Mar._ Yet you will be hanged for being so long absent; 15
or, to be turned away, is not that as good as a
hanging to you?
_Clo._ Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage;
and, for turning away, let summer bear it out.
_Mar._ You are resolute, then? 20
_Clo._ Not so, neither; but I am resolved on two points.
_Mar._ That if one break, the other will hold; or, if
both break, your gaskins fall.
_Clo._ Apt, in good faith; very apt. Well, go thy way;
if Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a 25
piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria.
_Mar._ Peace, you rogue, no more o' that. Here comes
my lady: make your excuse wisely, you were best. [_Exit._
_Clo._ Wit, an't be thy will, put me into good fooling!
Those wits, that think they have thee, do very oft prove 30
fools; and I, that am sure I lack thee, may pass for a wise
man: for what says Quinapalus? 'Better a witty fool than
a foolish wit.'
_Enter_ Lady OLIVIA _with_ MALVOLIO.
God bless thee, lady!
_Oli._ Take the fool away. 35
_Clo._ Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady.
_Oli._ Go to, you're a dry fool; I'll no more of you: besides,
you grow dishonest.
_Clo._ Two faults, madonna, that drink and good counsel
will amend: for give the dry fool drink, then is the fool not 40
dry: bid the dishonest man mend himself; if he mend, he is
no longer dishonest; if he cannot, let the botcher mend him.
Any thing that's mended is but patched: virtue that transgresses
is but patched with sin; and sin that amends is but
patched with virtue. If that this simple syllogism will serve, 45
so; if it will not, what remedy? As there is no true cuckold
but calamity, so beauty's a flower. The lady bade take
away the fool; therefore, I say again, take her away.
_Oli._ Sir, I bade them take away you.
_Clo._ Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, cucullus 50
non facit monachum; that's as much to say as I wear not
motley in my brain. Good madonna, give me leave to
prove you a fool.
_Oli._ Can you do it?
_Clo._ Dexteriously, good madonna. 55
_Oli._ Make your proof.
_Clo._ I must catechize you for it, madonna: good my
mouse of virtue, answer me.
_Oli._ Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I 'll bide your
proof. 60
_Clo._ Good madonna, why mournest thou?
_Oli._ Good fool, for my brother's death.
_Clo._ I think his soul is in hell, madonna.
_Oli._ I know his soul is in heaven, fool.
_Clo._ The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your brother's 65
soul being in heaven. Take away the fool,
gentlemen.
_Oli._ What think you of this fool, Malvolio? doth he
not mend?
_Mal._ Yes, and shall do till the pangs of death shake 70
him: infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever make the
better fool.
_Clo._ God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the
better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will be sworn that
I am no fox; but he will not pass his word for two pence 75
that you are no fool.
_Oli._ How say you to that, Malvolio?
_Mal._ I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such a
barren rascal: I saw him put down the other day with an
ordinary fool that has no more brain than a stone. Look 80
you now, he's out of his guard already; unless you laugh
and minister occasion to him, he is gagged. I protest, I
take these wise men, that crow so at these set kind of fools,
no better than the fools' zanies.
_Oli._ O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste 85
with a distempered appetite. To be generous, guiltless and
of free disposition, is to take those things for bird-bolts that
you deem cannon-bullets: there is no slander in an allowed
fool, though he do nothing but rail; nor no railing in a
known discreet man, though he do nothing but reprove. 90
_Clo._ Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for thou
speakest well of fools!
_Re-enter_ MARIA.
_Mar._ Madam, there is at the gate a young gentleman
much desires to speak with you.
_Oli._ From the Count Orsino, is it? 95
_Mar._ I know not, madam: 'tis a fair young man, and
well attended.
_Oli._ Who of my people hold him in delay?
_Mar._ Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman.
_Oli._ Fetch him off, I pray you; he speaks nothing but 100
madman: fie on him! [_Exit Maria._] Go you, Malvolio:
if it be a suit from the count, I am sick, or not at home;
what you will, to dismiss it. [_Exit Malvolio._] Now you
see, sir, how your fooling grows old, and people dislike it.
_Clo._ Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy eldest son 105
should be a fool; whose skull Jove cram with brains! for,--here
he comes,--one of thy kin has a most weak pia mater.
_Enter_ Sir TOBY.
_Oli._ By mine honour, half drunk. What is he at the
gate, cousin?
_Sir To._ A gentleman. 110
_Oli._ A gentleman! what gentleman?
_Sir To._ 'Tis a gentleman here--a plague o' these pickle-herring!
How now, sot!
_Clo._ Good Sir Toby!
_Oli._ Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by 115
this lethargy?
_Sir To._ Lechery! I defy lechery. There's one at the gate.
_Oli._ Ay, marry, what is he?
_Sir To._ Let him be the devil, an he will, I care not:
give me faith, say I. Well, it's all one. [_Exit._ 120
_Oli._ What's a drunken man like, fool?
_Clo._ Like a drowned man, a fool and a mad man: one
draught above heat makes him a fool; the second mads
him; and a third drowns him.
_Oli._ Go thou and seek the crowner, and let him sit o' 125
my coz; for he's in the third degree of drink, he's drowned:
go, look after him.
_Clo._ He is but mad yet, madonna; and the fool shall
look to the madman. [_Exit._
_Re-enter_ MALVOLIO.
_Mal._ Madam, yond young fellow swears he will speak 130
with you. I told him you were sick; he takes on him to
understand so much, and therefore comes to speak with
you. I told him you were asleep; he seems to have a
foreknowledge of that too, and therefore comes to speak
with you. What is to be said to him, lady? he's fortified 135
against any denial.
_Oli._ Tell him he shall not speak with me.
_Mal._ Has been told so; and he says, he'll stand at
your door like a sheriff's post, and be the supporter to a
bench, but he'll speak with you. 140
_Oli._ What kind o' man is he?
_Mal._ Why, of mankind.
_Oli._ What manner of man?
_Mal._ Of very ill manner; he'll speak with you, will
you or no. 145
_Oli._ Of what personage and years is he?
_Mal._ Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough
for a boy; as a squash is before 'tis a peascod, or a codling
when 'tis almost an apple: 'tis with him in standing water,
between boy and man. He is very well-favoured and he 150
speaks very shrewishly; one would think his mother's milk
were scarce out of him.
_Oli._ Let him approach: call in my gentlewoman.
_Mal._ Gentlewoman, my lady calls. [_Exit._
_Re-enter_ MARIA.
_Oli._ Give me my veil: come, throw it o'er my face. 155
We'll once more hear Orsino's embassy.
_Enter_ VIOLA, _and_ Attendants.
_Vio._ The honourable lady of the house, which is she?
_Oli._ Speak to me; I shall answer for her. Your will?
_Vio._ Most radiant, exquisite and unmatchable beauty,--I
pray you, tell me if this be the lady of the house, for I 160
never saw her: I would be loath to cast away my speech,
for besides that it is excellently well penned, I have taken
great pains to con it. Good beauties, let me sustain no
scorn; I am very comptible, even to the least sinister usage.
_Oli._ Whence came you, sir? 165
_Vio._ I can say little more than I have studied, and
that question's out of my part. Good gentle one, give me
modest assurance if you be the lady of the house, that I
may proceed in my speech.
_Oli._ Are you a comedian? 170
_Vio._ No, my profound heart: and yet, by the very
fangs of malice I swear, I am not that I play. Are you
the lady of the house?
_Oli._ If I do not usurp myself, I am.
_Vio._ Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp your-self; 175
for what is yours to bestow is not yours to reserve. But
this is from my commission: I will on with my speech in
your praise, and then show you the heart of my message.
_Oli._ Come to what is important in't: I forgive you the
praise. 180
_Vio._ Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis
poetical.
_Oli._ It is the more like to be feigned: I pray you, keep
it in. I heard you were saucy at my gates, and allowed
your approach rather to wonder at you than to hear you. 185
If you be not mad, be gone; if you have reason, be brief:
'tis not that time of moon with me to make one in so skipping
a dialogue.
_Mar._ Will you hoist sail, sir? here lies your way.
_Vio._ No, good swabber; I am to hull here a little 190
longer. Some mollification for your giant, sweet lady.
Tell me your mind: I am a messenger.
_Oli._ Sure, you have some hideous matter to deliver,
when the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak your office.
_Vio._ It alone concerns your ear. I bring no overture 195
of war, no taxation of homage: I hold the olive in my
hand; my words are as full of peace as matter.
_Oli._ Yet you began rudely. What are you? what
would you?
_Vio._ The rudeness that hath appeared in me have I 200
learned from my entertainment. What I am, and what I
would, are as secret as maidenhead; to your ears, divinity,
to any other's, profanation.
_Oli._ Give us the place alone: we will hear this divinity.
[_Exeunt Maria and Attendants._] Now, sir, what is your text? 205
_Vio._ Most sweet lady,--
_Oli._ A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said of
it. Where lies your text?
_Vio._ In Orsino's bosom.
_Oli._ In his bosom! In what chapter of his bosom? 210
_Vio._ To answer by the method, in the first of his heart.
_Oli._ O, I have read it: it is heresy. Have you no more
to say?
_Vio._ Good madam, let me see your face.
_Oli._ Have you any commission from your lord to negotiate 215
with my face? You are now out of your text: but
we will draw the curtain and show you the picture. Look
you, sir, such a one I was this present: is't not well done?
[_Unveiling._
_Vio._ Excellently done, if God did all.
_Oli._ 'Tis in grain, sir; 'twill endure wind and weather. 220
_Vio._ 'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white
Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on:
Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive,
If you will lead these graces to the grave
And leave the world no copy. 225
_Oli._ O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will give
out divers schedules of my beauty: it shall be inventoried,
and every particle and utensil labelled to my will: as,
item, two lips, indifferent red; item, two grey eyes, with
lids to them; item, one neck, one chin, and so forth. Were 230
you sent hither to praise me?
_Vio._ I see you what you are, you are too proud;
But, if you were the devil, you are fair.
My lord and master loves you: O, such love
Could be but recompensed, though you were crown'd 235
The nonpareil of beauty!
_Oli._ How does he love me?
_Vio._ With adorations, fertile tears,
With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.
_Oli._ Your lord does know my mind; I cannot love him:
Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble, 240
Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth;
In voices well divulged, free, learn'd and valiant;
And in dimension and the shape of nature
A gracious person: but yet I cannot love him;
He might have took his answer long ago. 245
_Vio._ If I did love you in my master's flame,
With such a suffering, such a deadly life,
In your denial I would find no sense;
I would not understand it.
_Oli._ Why, what would you?
_Vio._ Make me a willow cabin at your gate, 250
And call upon my soul within the house;
Write loyal cantons of contemned love
And sing them loud even in the dead of night;
Halloo your name to the reverberate hills
And make the babbling gossip of the air 255
Cry out 'Olivia!' O, you should not rest
Between the elements of air and earth,
But you should pity me!
_Oli._ You might do much.
What is your parentage?
_Vio._ Above my fortunes, yet my state is well: 260
I am a gentleman.
_Oli._ Get you to your lord;
I cannot love him: let him send no more;
Unless, perchance, you come to me again,
To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well:
I thank you for your pains: spend this for me. 265
_Vio._ I am no fee'd post, lady; keep your purse:
My master, not myself, lacks recompense.
Love make his heart of flint that you shall love;
And let your fervour, like my master's, be
Placed in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty. [_Exit._ 270
_Oli._ 'What is your parentage?'
'Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:
I am a gentleman.' I'll be sworn thou art;
Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit,
Do give thee five-fold blazon: not too fast: soft, soft! 275
Unless the master were the man. How now!
Even so quickly may one catch the plague?
Methinks I feel this youth's perfections
With an invisible and subtle stealth
To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be. 280
What ho, Malvolio!
_Re-enter_ MALVOLIO.
_Mal._ Here, madam, at your service.
_Oli._ Run after that same peevish messenger,
The county's man: he left this ring behind him,
Would I or not: tell him I'll none of it.
Desire him not to flatter with his lord, 285
Nor hold him up with hopes; I am not for him:
If that the youth will come this way to-morrow,
I'll give him reasons for't: hie thee, Malvolio.
_Mal._ Madam, I will. [_Exit._
_Oli._ I do I know not what, and fear to find 290
Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind.
Fate, show thy force: ourselves we do not owe;
What is decreed must be, and be this so. [_Exit_.
LINENOTES:
SCENE V.] SCENE VI. Pope.
OLIVIA'S house.] Rowe.
[5] _to fear_] _fear_ F3 F4.
_colours_] _collars_ Anon. conj.
[8] _lenten_] Rowe. _lenton_ Ff.
[16] _to be_] F1. _be_ F2 F3 F4.
[18] _Many_] _Marry_, Theobald.
[19] _turning away_] _turning o' hay_ Smith conj. _turning of whey_
Letherland conj.
[20, 28] _You_] _Your_ F2.
[23] _gaskins_] _gaskings_ F4.
[28] [Exit.] Pope. om. Ff.
[29] SCENE VII. Pope.
_an't_] Hanmer. _and 't_ Ff.
_good_] _a good_ Warburton.
[34] Enter ...] Ff (after line 28). Enter O. attended. Capell.
[37] _you're_] _y'are_ Ff.
[39] _madonna_] _Madona_ Ff., and passim.
[46] _cuckold_] _counsellor_ Hanmer.
[51] _to say as I wear_] _to say, as I were_ F4. _as to say, as I
were_ Rowe (ed. 1). _as to say, I wear_ Id. (ed. 2).
[55] _Dexteriously_] _Dexterously_ F4.
[58] _mouse_] _muse_ Anon. conj.
_answer me_] _answer_ F3 F4.
[59] _bide_] _abide_ Steevens (1785).
[65] _fool_] F1 F2. _fool you_ F3 F4.
[71, 72] _the better_] Ff. _better the_ Rowe (ed. 2).
[80] _brain_] _brains_ F3 F4.
[83] _these_] _those_ Hanmer.
_wise men_] F3 F4. _wisemen_ F1 F2.
[84] _no better_] _to be no better_ Capell.
[86] _guiltless_] F3 F4. _guitlesse_ F1 F2. _guileless_ ANON. conj.
[91] _leasing_] _learning_ Rowe. _pleasing_ Warburton.
[93] Re-enter M.] Enter M. Ff.
[95, 102] _Count_] _Duke_ Hanmer.
[99] _kinsman_] _uncle_ Rowe (ed. 2).
[101] Exit Maria] Capell.
[103] Exit Malvolio] Ff.
_Now you_] _Now_ Rowe.
[106, 107] _for,--here he comes_,--] Edd. _for here he comes_ Ff. _for
here comes_ Rowe (ed. 2).
[107] _has_] _that has_ Collier MS.
[108] SCENE VIII. Pope.
Enter ...] Ff (after _comes_, line 107).
[109] _cousin_] _uncle_ Rowe (ed. 2).
[112] _gentleman here_--] Steevens. _gentleman heere._ F1. _gentleman
here._ F2 F3 F4. _gentleman. Here_,--[belches.] Theobald.
_gentleman-heir_ Warburton. _gentleman_:--[hiccups.] Capell.
[113] _herring_] _herrings_ Malone.
[115] _Cousin, cousin_] _Uncle, uncle_ Rowe.
[119] _an_] Hanmer. _and_ Ff.
[125] _crowner_] _coroner_ Rowe.
[126] _coz_] _uncle_ Rowe (ed. 2). _cousin_ Capell conj.
[129] Exit.] Exit Clown. Rowe.
Re-enter M.] Enter M. Ff.
[130] _yond_] Ff. _you'_ Capell.
[138] _Has_] _Ha's_ Ff. _He has_ Pope.
[139] _and be_] _or be_ Hanmer.
_to_] _of_ Reed (1803).
[141] _o'_] _of_ Steevens.
[144] _manner_] F1 F2. _manners_ F3 F4.
[149] _in_] _e'en_ Capell.
[155] SCENE IX. Pope.
Re-enter M.] Enter M. Ff.
[157] VIOLA] VIOLENTA. F1.
... and Attendants.] Edd. om.
[164] _comptible_] _prompt_ Hanmer. _domptable_ Mason conj.
[169] _my_] om. F3 F4.
[172] _fangs_] _phangs_ Ff. _pangs_ Rowe (ed. 1).
[184] _and_] _and I_ Pope.
[186] _not mad_] _mad_ Rann (Mason conj.). _but mad_ Collier (ed. 2,
Staunton conj.).
[187] _that time of moon_] Ff. _the time of the moon_ Rowe. _that time
of the moon_ Pope.
[192] _Tell ... messenger_] Oli. _Tell ... mind._ Vio. _I ...
messenger_ Hanmer (Warburton). See note (IV).
[196] _taxation_] F1 F2 F3. _taxations_ F4.
_olive_] Rowe. _Olyffe_ F1 F2 F3. _Oliff_ F4.
[202] _secret as maidenhead_] _sacred as maidhood_ Theobald conj.
_maidenhead_] F1. _a maiden-heard_ F2. _a maidenhead_ F3 F4.
_maidenhood_ Collier MS.
[203] _other's_] Pope (ed. 2). _others_ Ff.
[205] Exeunt M. and Attendants.] Capell. Exit M. Rowe.
[208] _your text_] _the text_ Rowe.
[218] _such ... is't_] _such a one I wear this present: is't_ Theobald
(Warburton). _such a one I was. This presence, is't_ Steevens conj.
_such as once I was, this presents: is't_ Rann (Mason conj). _such a
one I was, this presents_ Becket conj. _such a one as I was this
presents, is't_ Jackson conj. _such a one as I was this present: is't_
Boswell. _such a one I was as this presents: is't_ Singer conj. _such
a one I am at this present: is't_ Collier MS.
[Unveiling.] Rowe.
[231] _praise_] '_praise_ Steevens (Malone).
[235] _Could_] _Should_ Collier MS.
[237] _adorations, fertile_] _adorations, fertill_ Ff. _adorations,
with fertile_ Pope. _adoration's fertile_ Rann. See note (V).
[244] _but_] om. Pope.
[249] _would you?_] _would you do?_ Rowe.
[252] _cantons_] _cantos_ Rowe (ed. 2). _canzons_ Capell.
[254] _Halloo_] _Hallow_ F1. _Hollaw_ F2. _Hollow_ F3 F4.
_reverberate_] _reverberant_ Theobald.
[258, 259] _You ... parentage._] As one line in Capell.
[275] _soft, soft!_] _soft;_ Capell.
[276] _master were the man_] _man the master were_ Hanmer, who ends
lines
[275-278] at fast ... _were_ ... _catch_ ... _perfections_.
[281] Re-enter M.] Enter M. Ff.
[283] _county's_] Capell. _Countes_ F1. _Counts_ F2 F3 F4. _Duke's_
Rowe.
_left_] _left here_ Hanmer.
[288] _reasons for't: hie thee_] F1. _reasons for't: hye thee_ F2.
_reasons for't by thee_ F3. _reason for't by thee_ F4. _reason for't._
_Hye thee_ Hanmer.
[292] _owe_] _know_ Long MS.
[293] [Exit] Rowe. Finis, Actus primus. F1. Finis, Actus primi. F2 F3
F4.
ACT II.
SCENE I. _The sea-coast._
_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 stars shine darkly over
me: the malignancy of my fate might perhaps distemper
yours; therefore I shall crave of you your leave that I may 5
bear my evils alone: it were a bad recompense for your
love, to lay any of them on you.
_Ant._ Let me yet know of you whither you are bound.
_Seb._ No, sooth, sir: my determinate voyage is mere
extravagancy. But I perceive in you so excellent a touch 10
of modesty, that you will not extort from me what I am
willing to keep in; therefore it charges me in manners the
rather to express myself. You must know of me then,
Antonio, my name is Sebastian, which I called Roderigo.
My father was that Sebastian of Messaline, whom I know 15
you have heard of. He left behind him myself and a
sister, both born in an hour: if the heavens had been
pleased, would we had so ended! but you, sir, altered that;
for some hour before you took me from the breach of the
sea was my sister drowned. 20
_Ant._ Alas the day!
_Seb._ A lady, sir, though it was said she much resembled
me, was yet of many accounted beautiful: but, though
I could not with such estimable wonder overfar believe
that, yet thus far I will boldly publish her; she bore a 25
mind that envy could not but call fair. She is drowned
already, sir, with salt water, though I seem to drown her
remembrance again with more.
_Ant._ Pardon me, sir, your bad entertainment.
_Seb._ O good Antonio, forgive me your trouble. 30
_Ant._ If you will not murder me for my love, let me
be your servant.
_Seb._ If you will not undo what you have done, that is,
kill him whom you have recovered, desire it not. Fare ye
well at once: my bosom is full of kindness, and I am yet 35
so near the manners of my mother, that upon the least occasion
more mine eyes will tell tales of me. I am bound
to the Count Orsino's court: farewell. [_Exit._
_Ant._ The gentleness of all the gods go with thee!
I have many enemies in Orsino's court, 40
Else would I very shortly see thee there.
But, come what may, I do adore thee so,
That danger shall seem sport, and I will go. [_Exit._
LINENOTES:
SCENE I. The sea-coast.] Capell. The street. Rowe.
[1, 2] _longer? ... with you?_] _longer: ... with you._ F.
[5] _I shall crave_] _I crave_ Rowe.
[9] _sooth_] _in sooth_ Johnson. _'sooth_ Capell.
[14] _Roderigo_] Collier. _Rodorigo_ Ff.
[15] _Messaline_] _Metelin_ Hanmer. _Mitylene_ Capell conj.
[17] _an_] F1 F2. _one_ F3 F4.
[19] _hour_] _houre_ F1 F2. _houres_ F3. _hours_ F4.
[19] _breach_] _beach_ Grey conj.
[22] _though_] _who, tho'_ Hanmer.
[24] _not ... overfar_] _not overfar_ Warburton conj. _not with
self-estimation wander so far_ Collier (Collier MS.). _not with such
estimators wander overfar to_ Singer MS. _not with such estimate
wander overfar to_ Bailey conj.
_with ... wonder_] Omit as spurious. Warburton conj.
[26] _envy could not but_] _envy itself would_ Capell conj.
[38] _Count_] _Duke_ Rowe.
[40] _many_] F1 F2. _made_ F3 F4.
SCENE II. _A street._
_Enter_ VIOLA, MALVOLIO _following_.
_Mal._ Were not you even now with the Countess Olivia?
_Vio._ Even now, sir; on a moderate pace I have since
arrived but hither.
_Mal._ She returns this ring to you, sir: you might have
saved me my pains, to have taken it away yourself. She 5
adds, moreover, that you should put your lord into a desperate
assurance she will none of him: and one thing more,
that you be never so hardy to come again in his affairs,
unless it be to report your lord's taking of this. Receive
it so. 10
_Vio._ She took the ring of me: I'll none of it.
_Mal._ Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her; and her
will is, it should be so returned: if it be worth stooping
for, there it lies in your eye; if not, be it his that finds it.
[_Exit._
_Vio._ I left no ring with her: what means this lady? 15
Fortune forbid my outside have not charm'd her!
She made good view of me; indeed, so much,
That methought her eyes had lost her tongue,
For she did speak in starts distractedly.
She loves me, sure; the cunning of her passion 20
Invites me in this churlish messenger.
None of my lord's ring! why, he sent her none.
I am the man: if it be so, as 'tis,
Poor lady, she were better love a dream.
Disguise, I see, thou art a wickedness, 25
Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.
How easy is it for the proper-false
In women's waxen hearts to set their forms!
Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we!
For such as we are made of, such we be. 30
How will this fadge? my master loves her dearly;
And I, poor monster, fond as much on him;
And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me.
What will become of this? As I am man,
My state is desperate for my master's love; 35
As I am woman,--now alas the day!--
What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe!
O time! thou must untangle this, not I;
It is too hard a knot for me to untie! [_Exit._
LINENOTES:
SCENE II. Enter....] Enter V. and M. at severall doores. Ff.
[1] _even_, _ev'n_ Ff. _e'en_ Rowe.
[4] _sir_:] _sir; for being your Lord's she'll none of it_. Hanmer.
[9, 10] _Receive it so_] _Receive it, sir_ Capell.
[11] _the ring of me: I'll_] _the ring of me, Ile_ Ff (_I'le_ F3 F4).
_the ring of me! I'll_ Malone (Anon. conj.). _no ring of me; I'll_
Malone conj. _this ring of me! She'll_ Id. conj.
[16] _have not_] _should have_ Hanmer.
[18] _That_] F1. _That sure_ F2 F3 F4. _That oft_] Jackson conj.
_That, as_ Anon. conj.
_That ... her_] _Methought her eager_ Seymour conj.
_had lost_] _did let_ Hanmer. _had crost_ Warburton. _had los'd_
Becket conj.
[22] _None ... none._] This line is transposed by Hanmer to the
beginning of the speech.
[23] _I am the_] _I should be_ Hanmer.
_man: if it be so, as 'tis_,] _man, if ... so, as tis_, F1. _man, if
... so as tis_, F2 (_'tis,_ F3 F4). _man, if ... so: as 'tis_, Hanmer.
_if it be so_, (_as, 'tis_;) Theobald.
[27, 28] _the proper-false ... their forms_] _thy purpose false ...
thy forms_ Jackson conj.
[27] _proper-false_] Malone. _proper false_ Ff.
[29] _our_] F2 F3 F4. _O_ F1.
[30] _made of, such_] Rann (Tyrwhitt conj.). _made, if such_ Ff.
_made, ev'n such_ Hanmer. See note (VI).
[32] _monster_] _minister_ Hanmer.
[32, 33] _as much on him; And_] _as much on him As_ Dyce conj.
[34] _man_] _a man_ F3 F4.
[39] _to untie_] _t'unty_ Ff.
SCENE III. OLIVIA'S _house_.
_Enter_ SIR TOBY _and_ SIR ANDREW.
_Sir To._ Approach, Sir Andrew: not to be a-bed after
midnight is to be up betimes; and 'diluculo surgere,' thou
know'st,--
_Sir And._ Nay, by my troth, I know not: but I know,
to be up late is to be up late. 5
_Sir To._ A false conclusion: I hate it as an unfilled can.
To be up after midnight and to go to bed then, is early: so
that to go to bed after midnight is to go to bed betimes.
Does not our life consist of the four elements?
_Sir And._ Faith, so they say; but I think it rather 10
consists of eating and drinking.
_Sir To._ Thou'rt a scholar; let us therefore eat and
drink. Marian, I say! a stoup of wine!
_Enter_ Clown.
_Sir And._ Here comes the fool, i'faith.
_Clo._ How now, my hearts! did you never see the picture 15
of 'we three'?
_Sir To._ Welcome, ass. Now let's have a catch.
_Sir And._ By my troth, the fool has an excellent breast.
I had rather than forty shillings I had such a leg, and so
sweet a breath to sing, as the fool has. In sooth, thou wast 20
in very gracious fooling last night, when thou spokest of
Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians passing the equinoctial of
Queubus: 'twas very good, i'faith. I sent thee sixpence for
thy leman: hadst it?
_Clo._ I did impeticos thy gratillity; for Malvolio's nose 25
is no whipstock: my lady has a white hand, and the
Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses.
_Sir And._ Excellent! why, this is the best fooling, when
all is done. Now, a song.
_Sir To._ Come on; there is sixpence for you: let's have 30
a song.
_Sir And._ There's a testril of me too: if one knight
give a--
_Clo._ Would you have a love-song, or a song of good
life? 35
_Sir To._ A love-song, a love-song.
_Sir And._ Ay, ay: I care not for good life.
_Clo._ [_Sings_]
O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O, stay and hear; your true love's coming,
That can sing both high and low: 40
Trip no further, pretty sweeting;
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
Every wise man's son doth know.
_Sir And._ Excellent good, i' faith.
_Sir To._ Good, good. 45
_Clo._ [_Sings_]
What is love? 'tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What's to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies no plenty;
Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty, 50
Youth's a stuff will not endure.
_Sir And._ A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight.
_Sir To._ A contagious breath.
_Sir And._ Very sweet and contagious, i'faith.
_Sir To._ To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in contagion. 55
But shall we make the welkin dance indeed? shall we
rouse the night-owl in a catch that will draw three souls
out of one weaver? shall we do that?
_Sir And._ An you love me, let's do't: I am dog at a
catch. 60
_Clo._ By'r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well.
_Sir And._ Most certain. Let our catch be, 'Thou
knave.'
_Clo._ 'Hold thy peace, thou knave,' knight? I shall be
constrained in't to call thee knave, knight. 65
_Sir And._ 'Tis not the first time I have constrained one
to call me knave. Begin, fool: it begins 'Hold thy peace.'
_Clo._ I shall never begin if I hold my peace.
_Sir And._ Good, i'faith. Come, begin. [_Catch sung._
_Enter_ MARIA.
_Mar._ What a caterwauling do you keep here! If my 70
lady have not called up her steward Malvolio and bid him
turn you out of doors, never trust me.
_Sir To._ My lady's a Cataian, we are politicians, Malvolio's
a Peg-a-Ramsey, and 'Three merry men be we.' Am
not I consanguineous? am I not of her blood? Tillyvally. 75
Lady! [_Sings_] 'There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady, lady!'
_Clo._ Beshrew me, the knight's in admirable fooling.
_Sir And._ Ay, he does well enough if he be disposed,
and so do I too: he does it with a better grace, but I do it
more natural. 80
_Sir To._ [_Sings_] 'O, the twelfth day of December',--
_Mar._ For the love o' God, peace!
_Enter_ MALVOLIO.
_Mal._ My masters, are you mad? or what are you?
Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty, but to gabble like
tinkers at this time of night? Do ye make an alehouse of 85
my lady's house, that ye squeak out your coziers' catches
without any mitigation or remorse of voice? Is there no
respect of place, persons, nor time in you?
_Sir To._ We did keep time, sir, in our catches. Sneck
up! 90
_Mal._ Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My lady
bade me tell you, that, though she harbours you as her
kinsman, she's nothing allied to your disorders. If you
can separate yourself and your misdemeanours, you are
welcome to the house; if not, an it would please you to 95
take leave of her, she is very willing to bid you farewell.
_Sir To._ 'Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be gone.'
_Mar._ Nay, good Sir Toby.
_Clo._ 'His eyes do show his days are almost done.'
_Mal._ Is't even so? 100
_Sir To._ 'But I will never die.'
_Clo._ Sir Toby, there you lie.
_Mal._ This is much credit to you.
_Sir To._ 'Shall I bid him go?'
_Clo._ 'What an if you do?' 105
_Sir To._ 'Shall I bid him go, and spare not?'
_Clo._ 'O no, no, no, no, you dare not.'
_Sir To._ Out o' tune, sir: ye lie. Art any more than a
steward? Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous,
there shall be no more cakes and ale? 110
_Clo._ Yes, by Saint Anne, and ginger shall be hot i'
the mouth too.
_Sir To._ Thou'rt i' the right. Go, sir, rub your chain
with crums. A stoup of wine, Maria!
_Mal._ Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady's favour at 115
any thing more than contempt, you would not give means
for this uncivil rule: she shall know of it, by this hand.
[_Exit._
_Mar._ Go shake your ears.
_Sir And._ 'Twere as good a deed as to drink when a
man's a-hungry, to challenge him the field, and then to 120
break promise with him and make a fool of him.
_Sir To._ Do't, knight: I'll write thee a challenge; or
I'll deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth.
_Mar._ Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for to-night: since
the youth of the count's was to-day with my lady, she is 125
much out of quiet. For Monsieur Malvolio, let me alone
with him: if I do not gull him into a nayword, and make
him a common recreation, do not think I have wit enough
to lie straight in my bed: I know I can do it.
_Sir To._ Possess us, possess us; tell us something of 130
him.
_Mar._ Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of puritan.
_Sir And._ O, if I thought that, I'ld beat him like a dog!
_Sir To._ What, for being a puritan? thy exquisite reason,
dear knight? 135
_Sir And._ I have no exquisite reason for't, but I have
reason good enough.
_Mar._ The devil a puritan that he is, or any thing constantly,
but a time-pleaser; an affectioned ass, that cons
state without book and utters it by great swarths: the best 140
persuaded of himself, so crammed, as he thinks, with excellencies,
that it is his grounds of faith that all that look on
him love him; and on that vice in him will my revenge
find notable cause to work.
_Sir To._ What wilt thou do? 145
_Mar._ I will drop in his way some obscure epistles of
love; wherein, by the colour of his beard, the shape of his
leg, the manner of his gait, the expressure of his eye, forehead,
and complexion, he shall find himself most feelingly
personated. I can write very like my lady your niece: on 150
a forgotten matter we can hardly make distinction of our
hands.
_Sir To._ Excellent! I smell a device.
_Sir And._ I have 't in my nose too.
_Sir To._ He shall think, by the letters that thou wilt 155
drop, that they come from my niece, and that she's in love
with him.
_Mar._ My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour.
_Sir And._ And your horse now would make him an ass.
_Mar._ Ass, I doubt not. 160
_Sir And._ O, 'twill be admirable!
_Mar._ Sport royal, I warrant you: I know my physic
will work with him. I will plant you two, and let the fool
make a third, where he shall find the letter: observe his
construction of it. For this night, to bed, and dream on 165
the event. Farewell. [_Exit._
_Sir To._ Good night, Penthesilea.
_Sir And._ Before me, she's a good wench.
_Sir To._ She's a beagle, true-bred, and one that adores
me: what o' that? 170
_Sir And._ I was adored once too.
_Sir To._ Let's to bed, knight. Thou hadst need send
for more money.
_Sir And._ If I cannot recover your niece, I am a foul
way out. 175
_Sir To._ Send for money, knight: if thou hast her not
i' the end, call me cut.
_Sir And._ If I do not, never trust me, take it how you
will.
_Sir To._ Come, come, I'll go burn some sack; 'tis too 180
late to go to bed now: come, knight; come, knight.
[_Exeunt._
LINENOTES:
SCENE III. OLIVIA'S house.] Rowe.
[2] _diluculo_] Rowe. _Deliculo_ F1. _Diliculo_ F2 F3 F4.
[3] _know'st,--_] Theobald. _know'st._ Ff.
[9] _Does ... life_] Rowe (ed. 2). _Does ... lives_ Ff. _Do ... lives_
Malone.
[12] _Thou'rt_ Capell. _Th'art_ Ff. _Thou art_ Steevens.
[13] _Marian_] _Maria_ Pope.
_stoup_] _stoope_ F1 F2 F3. _stoop_ F4.
[18] _breast_] _breath_ L. H. apud Theobald conj.
[22] _Pigrogromitus_] _Pigrogomitus_ Boswell.
[24] _leman_] Theobald. _Lemon_ Ff.
[25] _impeticos thy gratillity_] _impeticoat thy gratuity_ Rann
(Johnson conj.).
[27] _Myrmidons_] Theobald. _Mermidons_ Ff. _Mirmidons_ Pope.
[33] _give a--_] See note (VII).
[39] _and hear_;] _and heare,_ F1 F2. _and hear_, F3 F4. _for here_
Collier MS.
[42] _lovers_] _lovers'_ Warburton.
[46] _love?_] Pope, _love_, Ff.
[49] _delay_] _decay_ Warburton.
[50] _Then come kiss me_] _Come, a kiss then_ Johnson conj.
[52] _true_] _a true_ Rowe.
[57] _souls_] _sols_ (i.e. _sous_) Jackson conj.
[59] _An_] Pope. _And_ Ff.
_dog_] _dogge_ F1 F2. _a dog_ F3 F4.
[64] _knight?_] Capell. _knight._ Ff.
[70] SCENE IV. Pope.
[75] _am I not_] _am not I_ F3 F4.
[76, 81] [Sings] Singing. Rowe.
[81] _O_] _O' S._ Walker conj.
_the twelfth_] _the twelfe_ F1 F2. _twelf_ F3 F4.
[85] _ye_] _you_ Hanmer.
[86] _coziers'_] _cottiers_ Warburton.
[89, 90] _Sneck up_] F3 F4. _Snecke up_ F1 F2. _Strike up_ Rowe (ed.
2). _Sneak-cup_ Rann (Steevens and Capell conj.). _Sneb up_ Becket
conj. _Snack up_ Jackson conj. _Snick up_ Collier (Dyce).
[90] [Hiccoughs. Theobald.
[92] _though_] F1 F2. om. F3 F4.
[93] _kinsman_] _uncle_ Rowe (ed. 2).
[95] _an_] Rowe (ed. 2). _and_ Ff.
[97] See note (VIII).
[98] Mar.] Mal. Steevens.
[101] _never_] _nevery_ F2.
[105] _an_] Theobald, _and_ Ff.
[107] _no, no, no, no_] _no, no, no_ Theobald.
[108] _tune, sir_:] _tune sir,_ Ff. _time, sir?_ Theobald,
_tune!--sir,_ Collier. _tune, sir?_ Staunton.
_Art_] _Art thou_ Rowe.
[113] _Thou'rt_] Rowe. _Th'art_ Ff.
_chain_] _chin_ Johnson conj.
[114] _stoup_] _stope_ Ff. stoop Rowe.
[120] _the field_] _to the field_ Rowe (ed. 2.)
[125] _the youth_] _that youth_ Collier MS.
_count's_] _Duke's_ Rowe.
[127] _a nayword_] Rowe. _an ayword_ Ff. _a byeword_ L.H. apud
Theobald conj.
[130] Sir To.] Sir And. S. Walker conj.
[132] _puritan_] _a puritan_ Hanmer.
[139] _affectioned_] _affected_ Hanmer.
[140] _state without book_] _stale wit out of books_ Anon. conj.
_swarths_] _swaths_ Collier.
[142] _grounds_] F1. _ground_ F2 F3 F4.
[155] _letters_] _letter_ Collier MS.
[156] _they come_] _it comes_ Collier MS.
_she's_] _she is_ F4.
[159] Sir And.] Sir To. Harness (Tyrwhitt conj.).
[160] _Ass, I_] _As I_ S. Walker conj.
[163] _with him_] _him him_ Rowe (ed. 2).
[164] _his_] F1. _this_ F2 F3 F4.
SCENE IV. _The_ DUKE'S _palace_.
_Enter_ DUKE, VIOLA, CURIO, _and others._
_Duke._ Give me some music. Now, good morrow, friends.
Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song,
That old and antique song we heard last night:
Methought it did relieve my passion much,
More than light airs and recollected terms 5
Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times:
Come, but one verse.
_Cur._ He is not here, so please your lordship, that
should sing it.