Twelfth Night, William Shakespeare [top 100 novels .txt] 📗
- Author: William Shakespeare
Book online «Twelfth Night, William Shakespeare [top 100 novels .txt] 📗». Author William Shakespeare
The gentleness of all the gods go with thee!
I have many enemies in Orsino’s court,
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.
A street.
Enter Viola, Malvolio following. Malvolio Were not you even now with the Countess Olivia? Viola Even now, sir; on a moderate pace I have since arrived but hither. Malvolio She returns this ring to you, sir: you might have saved me my pains, to have taken it away yourself. She 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. Viola She took the ring of me: I’ll none of it. Malvolio 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. ViolaI left no ring with her: what means this lady?
Fortune forbid my outside have not charm’d her!
She made good view of me; indeed, so much,
That sure methought her eyes had lost her tongue,
For she did speak in starts distractedly.
She loves me, sure; the cunning of her passion
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,
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.
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;
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.
Olivia’s house.
Enter Sir Toby and Sir Andrew. Sir Toby Approach, Sir Andrew: not to be a-bed after midnight is to be up betimes; and “diluculo surgere,” thou know’st— Sir Andrew Nay, by my troth, I know not: but I know, to be up late is to be up late. Sir Toby 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 Andrew Faith, so they say; but I think it rather consists of eating and drinking. Sir Toby Thou’rt a scholar; let us therefore eat and drink. Marian, I say! a stoup of wine! Enter Clown. Sir Andrew Here comes the fool, i’ faith. Clown How now, my hearts! did you never see the picture of “we three”? Sir Toby Welcome, ass. Now let’s have a catch. Sir Andrew 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 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? Clown I did impeticos thy gratillity; for Malvolio’s nose is no whipstock: my lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses. Sir Andrew Excellent!
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