Mr. VVilliam Shakespeares comedies, histories, & tragedies Published according to the true originall copies.

About this Item

Title
Mr. VVilliam Shakespeares comedies, histories, & tragedies Published according to the true originall copies.
Author
Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616.
Publication
London :: Printed by Isaac Iaggard, and Ed. Blount [at the charges of W. Iaggard, Ed. Blount, I. Smithweeke, and W. Aspley],
1623.
Rights/Permissions

To the extent possible under law, the Text Creation Partnership has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to this keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above, according to the terms of the CC0 1.0 Public Domain Dedication (http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/). This waiver does not extend to any page images or other supplementary files associated with this work, which may be protected by copyright or other license restrictions. Please go to http://www.textcreationpartnership.org/ for more information.

Cite this Item
"Mr. VVilliam Shakespeares comedies, histories, & tragedies Published according to the true originall copies." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A11954.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 8, 2024.

Pages

Scaena prima.
Enter Ʋiola and Clowne.
Vio.

Saue thee Friend and thy Musick: dost thou liue by thy Tabor?

Clo.

No sir, I liue by the Church.

Vio.

Art thou a Churchman?

Clo.

No such matter sir, I do liue by the Church: For, I do liue at my house, and my house dooth stand by the Church

Vio.

So thou maist say the Kings lyes by a begger, if a begger dwell neer him: or the Church stands by thy Ta∣bor, if thy Tabor stand by the Church.

Clo.

You haue said sir: To see this age: A sentence is but a cheu'rill gloue to a good witte, how quickely the wrong side may be turn'd outward.

Vio.

Nay that's certaine: they that dally nicely with words, may quickely make them wanton.

Clo.

I would therefore my sister had had no name Sir.

Vio.

Why man?

Clo.

Why sir, her names a word, and to dallie with that word, might make my sister wanton: But indeede, words are very Rascals, since bonds disgrac'd them.

Vio.

Thy reason man?

Page 273

Clo.

Troth sir, I can yeeld you none without wordes, and wordes are growne so false, I am loath to proue rea∣son with them.

Vio.

I warrant thou art a merry fellow, and car'st for nothing.

Clo.

Not so sir, I do care for something: but in my con∣science sir, I do not care for you: if that be to care for no∣thing sir, I would it would make you inuisible.

Ʋio.

Art not thou the Lady Oliuia's foole?

Clo.

No indeed sir, the Lady Oliuia has no folly, shee will keepe no foole sir, till she be married, and fooles are as like husbands, as Pilchers are to Herrings, the Hus∣bands the bigger, I am indeede not her foole, but hir cor∣rupter of words.

Vio.

I saw thee late at the Count Orsino's.

Clo.

Foolery sir, does walke about the Orbe like the Sun, it shines euery where. I would be sorry sir, but the Foole should be as oft with your Master, as with my Mi∣stris: I thinke I saw your wisedome there.

Vio.

Nay, and thou passe vpon me, Ile no more with thee. Hold there's expences for thee.

Clo.

Now Ioue in his next commodity of hayre, send thee a beard.

Vi

By my troth Ile tell thee, I am almost sicke for one, though I would not haue it grow on my chinne. Is thy Lady within?

Clo

Would not a paire of these haue bred sir?

Vio.

Yes being kept together, and put to vse.

Clo.

I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia sir, to bring a Cressida to this Troylus.

Vio.

I vnderstand you sir, tis well begg'd.

Clo.

The matter I hope is not great sir; begging, but a begger: Cressida was a begger. My Lady is within sir. I will conster to them whence you come, who you are, and what you would are out of my welkin, I might say Ele∣ment, but the word is ouer-worne.

exit
Vio.
This fellow is wise enough to play the foole, And to do that well, craues a kinde of wit: He must obserue their mood on whom he iests, The quality of persons, and the time: And like the Haggard, checke at euery Feather That comes before his eye. This is a practice, As full of labour as a Wise-mans Art: For folly that he wisely shewes, is fit; But wisemens folly falne, quite taint their wit.
Enter Sir Toby and Andrew.
To.

Saue you Gentleman.

Ʋio.

And you sir.

And.

Dieu vou guard Monsieur.

Vio.

Et vouz ousie vostre seruiture.

An.

I hope sir, you are, and I am yours.

To.

Will you incounter the house, my Neece is desi∣rous you should enter, if your trade be to her.

Vio.

I am bound to your Neece sir, I meane she is the list of my voyage.

To.

Taste your legges sir, put them to motion.

Vio.

My legges do better vnderstand me sir, then I vn∣derstand what you meane by bidding me taste my legs.

To.

I meane to go sir, to enter.

Vio.

I will answer you with gate and entrance, but we are preuented.

Enter Oliuia, and Gentlewoman.

Most excellent accomplish'd Lady, the heauens raine O∣dours on you.

And.

That youth's a rare Courtier, raine odours, wel.

Vio.

My matter hath no voice Lady, but to your owne most pregnant and vouchsafed eare.

And.

Odours, pregnant, and vouchsafed: Ile get 'em all three already.

Ol.

Let the Garden doore be shut, and leaue mee to my hearing. Giue me your hand sir.

Ʋio.

My dutie Madam, and most humble seruice

Ol.

What is your name?

Vio.

Cesario is your seruants name, faire Princesse.

Ol.

My seruant sir? 'Twas neuer merry world, Since lowly feigning was call'd complement: y' are seruant to the Count Orsino youth.

Vio.

And he is yours, and his must needs be yours: your seruants seruant, is your seruant Madam.

Ol.
For him, I thinke not on him: for his thoughts, Would they were blankes, rather then fill'd with me.
Vio.
Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts On his behalfe.
Ol.
O by your leaue I pray you. I bad you neuer speake againe of him; But would you vndertake another suite I had rather heare you, to solicit that, Then Musicke from the spheares.
Vio.

Deere Lady.

Ol.
Giue me leaue, beseech you: I did send, After the last enchantment you did heare, A Ring in chace of you. So did I abuse My selfe, my seruant, and I feare me you: Vnder your hard construction must I sit, To force that on you in a shamefull cunning Which you knew none of yours. What might you think? Haue you not set mine Honor at the stake, And baited it with all th' vnmuzled thoughts That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiuing Enough is shewne, a Cipresse, not a bosome, Hides my heart: so let me heare you speake.
Vio.

I pittie you.

Ol.

That's a degree to loue.

Vio.
No not a grize: for tis a vulgar proofe That verie oft we pitty enemies.
Ol.
Why then me thinkes 'tis time to smile agen: O world, how apt the poore are to be proud? If one should be a prey, how much the better To fall before the Lion, then the Wolfe?
Clocke strikes.
The clocke vpbraides me with the waste of time: Be not affraid good youth, I will not haue you, And yet when wit and youth is come to haruest, your wife is like to reape a proper man: There lies your way, due West.
Vio.
Then Westward hoe: Grace and good disposition attend your Ladyship: you'l nothing Madam to my Lord, by me:
Ol.

Stay: I prethee tell me what thou thinkst of me?

Vio.

That you do thinke you are not what you are.

Ol.

If I thinke so, I thinke the same of you.

Ʋio.

Then thinke you right: I am not what I am.

Ol.

I would you were, as I would haue you be.

Vio.
Would it be better Madam, then I am? I wish it might, for now I am your foole.
Ol.
O what a deale of scorne, lookes beautifull? In the contempt and anger of his lip, A murdrous guilt shewes not it selfe more soone, Then loue that would seeme hid: Loues night, is noone. Cesario, by the Roses of the Spring, By maid-hood, honor, truth, and euery thing, I loue thee so, that maugre all thy pride,

Page 266

Nor wit, nor reason, can my passion hide: Do not extort thy reasons from this clause, For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause: But rather reason thus, with reason fetter; Loue sought, is good: but giuen vnsought, is better.
Ʋio.
By innocence I sweare, and by my youth, I haue one heart, one bosome, and one truth, And that no woman has, nor neuer none Shall mistris be of it, saue I alone. And so adieu good Madam, neuer more, Will I my Masters teares to you deplore.
Ol.
Yet come againe: for thou perhaps mayst moue That heart which now abhorres, to like his loue.
Exeunt
Do you have questions about this content? Need to report a problem? Please contact us.