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ANTONIO. Will you deny me now?
Is't possible that my deserts to you Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery, Lest that it make me so unsound a man As to upbraid you with those kindnesses That I have done for you.
VIOLA. I know of none, Nor know I you by voice or any feature.
I hate ingrat.i.tude more in a man Than lying, vainness, babbling drunkenness, Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption Inhabits our frail blood.
ANTONIO. O heavens themselves!
SECOND OFFICER. Come, sir, I pray you go.
ANTONIO. Let me speak a little. This youth that you see here I s.n.a.t.c.h'd one half out of the jaws of death, Reliev'd him with such sanct.i.ty of love, And to his image, which methought did promise Most venerable worth, did I devotion.
FIRST OFFICER. What's that to us? The time goes by; away.
ANTONIO. But, O, how vile an idol proves this G.o.d!
Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame.
In nature there's no blemish but the mind: None can be call'd deform'd but the unkind.
Virtue is beauty; but the beauteous evil Are empty trunks, o'erflourish'd by the devil.
FIRST OFFICER. The man grows mad. Away with him.
Come, come, sir.
ANTONIO. Lead me on. Exit with OFFICERS VIOLA. Methinks his words do from such pa.s.sion fly That he believes himself; so do not I.
Prove true, imagination, O, prove true, That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you!
SIR TOBY. Come hither, knight; come hither, Fabian; we'll whisper o'er a couplet or two of most sage saws.
VIOLA. He nam'd Sebastian. I my brother know Yet living in my gla.s.s; even such and so In favour was my brother; and he went Still in this fas.h.i.+on, colour, ornament, For him I imitate. O, if it prove, Tempests are kind, and salt waves fresh in love! Exit SIR TOBY. A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward than a hare. His dishonesty appears in leaving his friend here in necessity and denying him; and for his cowards.h.i.+p, ask Fabian.
FABIAN. A coward, a most devout coward, religious in it.
AGUECHEEK. 'Slid, I'll after him again and beat him.
SIR TOBY. Do; cuff him soundly, but never draw thy sword.
AGUECHEEK. And I do not- Exit FABIAN. Come, let's see the event.
SIR TOBY. I dare lay any money 'twill be nothing yet.
Exeunt
ACT IV. SCENE I. Before OLIVIA'S house Enter SEBASTIAN and CLOWN CLOWN. Will you make me believe that I am not sent for you? SEBASTIAN. Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow; let me be clear of thee. CLOWN. Well held out, i' faith! No, I do not know you; nor I am not sent to you by my lady, to bid you come speak with her; nor your name is not Master Cesario; nor this is not my nose neither. Nothing that is so is so. SEBASTIAN. I prithee vent thy folly somewhere else. Thou know'st not me. CLOWN. Vent my folly! He has heard that word of some great man, and now applies it to a fool. Vent my folly! I am afraid this great lubber, the world, will prove a c.o.c.kney. I prithee now, ungird thy strangeness, and tell me what I shall vent to my lady. Shall I vent to her that thou art coming? SEBASTIAN. I prithee, foolish Greek, depart from me; There's money for thee; if you tarry longer I shall give worse payment. CLOWN. By my troth, thou hast an open hand. These wise men that give fools money get themselves a good report after fourteen years' purchase. Enter SIR ANDREW, SIR TOBY, and FABIAN AGUECHEEK. Now, sir, have I met you again? [Striking SEBASTIAN] There's for you. SEBASTIAN. Why, there's for thee, and there, and there. Are all the people mad? SIR TOBY. Hold, sir, or I'll throw your dagger o'er the house. [Holding SEBASTIAN] CLOWN. This will I tell my lady straight. I would not be in some of your coats for two-pence. Exit SIR TOBY. Come on, sir; hold. AGUECHEEK. Nay, let him alone. I'll go another way to work with him; I'll have an action of battery against him, if there be any law in Illyria; though I struck him first, yet it's no matter for that. SEBASTIAN. Let go thy hand. SIR TOBY. Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier, put up your iron; you are well flesh'd. Come on. SEBASTIAN. I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou now? If thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword. [Draws] SIR TOBY. What, what? Nay, then I must have an ounce or two of this malapert blood from you. [Draws] Enter OLIVIA OLIVIA. Hold, Toby; on thy life, I charge thee hold. SIR TOBY. Madam! OLIVIA. Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch, Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves, Where manners ne'er were preach'd! Out of my sight! Be not offended, dear Cesario- Rudesby, be gone! Exeunt SIR TOBY, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN I prithee, gentle friend, Let thy fair wisdom, not thy pa.s.sion, sway In this uncivil and unjust extent Against thy peace. Go with me to my house, And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks This ruffian hath botch'd up, that thou thereby Mayst smile at this. Thou shalt not choose but go; Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me! He started one poor heart of mine in thee. SEBASTIAN. What relish is in this? How runs the stream? Or I am mad, or else this is a dream. Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep; If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep! OLIVIA. Nay, come, I prithee. Would thou'dst be rul'd by me! SEBASTIAN. Madam, I will. OLIVIA. O, say so, and so be! Exeunt SCENE II. OLIVIA'S house Enter MARIA and CLOWN MARIA. Nay, I prithee, put on this gown and this beard; make him believe thou art Sir Topas the curate; do it quickly. I'll call Sir Toby the whilst. Exit CLOWN. Well, I'll put it on, and I will dissemble myself in't; and I would I were the first that ever dissembled in such a gown. I am not tall enough to become the function well nor lean enough to be thought a good student; but to be said an honest man and a good housekeeper goes as fairly as to say a careful man and a great scholar. The compet.i.tors enter. Enter SIR TOBY and MARIA SIR TOBY. Jove bless thee, Master Parson. CLOWN. Bonos dies, Sir Toby; for as the old hermit of Prague, that never saw pen and ink, very wittily said to niece of King Gorboduc 'That that is is'; so I, being Master Parson, am Master Parson; for what is 'that' but that, and 'is' but is? SIR TOBY. To him, Sir Topas. CLOWN. What ho, I say! Peace in this prison! SIR TOBY. The knave counterfeits well; a good knave. MALVOLIO. [Within] Who calls there? CLOWN. Sir Topas the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio the lunatic. MALVOLIO. Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to my lady. CLOWN. Out, hyperbolical fiend! How vexest thou this man! Talkest thou nothing but of ladies?