I should my tears let fall upon your cheek,
And say-Thrice welcome, drownèd Viola!
Vio. My father had a mole upon his brow,-
Seb. And so had mine.

Vio. And died that day, when Viola from her birth. Had number'd thirteen years.

Seb. O, that record is lively in my soul !
He finished, indeed, his mortal act
That day that made my sister thirteen years.
Vio. If nothing lets to make us happy both
But this my masculine usurp'd attire,

Do not embrace me till each circumstance
Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and jump,
That I am Viola: which to confirm,

I'll bring you to a captain in this town,

Where lie my maiden weeds; by whose gentle help

I was preserv'd, to serve this noble count.

All the occurrence of my fortune since

Hath been between this lady and this lord.

been mistook:

But nature to her bias drew in that.

You would have been contracted to a maid;
Now are you, therein, by my life, deceiv'd,
You are betroth'd both to a maid and man.

Duke. Be not amaz'd; right noble is his blood.-
If this be so, as yet the glass seems true,

I shall have share in this most happy wreck.

[To Viola. Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times,

Thou never shouldst love woman like to me.
Vio. And all those sayings will I over-swear;
And all those swearings keep as true in soul,
As doth that orbed continent the fire
That severs day from night.

Duke.
Give me thy hand;
And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds.

Vio. The captain, that did bring me first on shore,
Hath my maid's garments: he, upon some action,
Is now in durance, at Malvolio's suit,

A gentleman, and follower of my lady's.

Öli. He shall enlarge him :-fetch Malvolio hither: And yet, alas, now I remember me,

They say, poor gentleman, he's much distract.
Re-enter Clown, with a letter.

A most extracting frenzy of mine own
From my remembrance clearly banish'd his.-
How does he, sirrah?

Clo. Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the stave's end, as well as a man in his case may do: he has here writ a letter to you; I should have given it to you to-day morning; but as a madman's epistles are no gospels, so it skills not much when they are deliOli. Open it, and read it. [vered. Clo. Look then to be well edified, when the fool delivers the madman.-" By the Lord, madam.”— Oli. How now! art thou mad?

Clo. No, madam, I do but read madness: an your ladyship will have it as it ought to be, you must allow Oli. Pr'ythee, read i thy right wits. [vox. Clo. So I do, madonna; but to read his right wits, is is to read thus: therefore perpend, my princess, and give ear.

Oli. [To Fabian.] Read it you, sirrah. Fab. [Reads.] "By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and the world shall know it: though you have put me into darkness, and given your drunken cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my senses as well as your ladyship. I have your own letter that induced me to the semblance I put on with the which I doubt not but to do myself much right, or you much shame. Think of me as you please. leave my duty a little unthought of, and speak out of my injury. The madly-used MALVOLIO."

Oli. Did he write this? Clo. Ay, madam.

Duke. This savours not much of distraction. Oli. See him deliver'd, Fabian: bring him hither. [Exit Fabian.

[on,

My lord, so please you, these things farther thought
To think me as well a sister as a wife,
One day shall crown the alliance on 't, so please you,
Here at my house, and at my proper cost. [offer.-
Duke. Madam, I am most apt t' embrace your
[To Viola.] Your master quits you; and, for your
service done him,

So much against the mettle of your sex,
So far beneath your soft and tender breeding

to you,

Upon Sir Toby and the lighter people;
And, acting this in an obedient hope,
Why have you suffer'd me to be imprison'd,
Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest,
And made the most notorious geck and gull
That e'er invention play'd on? tell me why.

Oli. Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing,
Though, I confess, much like the character:
But, out of question, 'tis Maria's hand.
And now I do bethink me, it was she

First told me thou wast mad; then cam'st in smiling,
And in such forms which here were presuppos'd
Upon thee in the letter. Pr'ythee, be content:
This practice hath most shrewdly pass'd upon thee;
But when we know the grounds and authors of it,
Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge
Of thine own cause.

Fab.
Good madam, hear me speak;
And let no quarrel, nor no brawl to come,
Taint the condition of this present hour.
Which I have wonder'd at. In hope it shall not,
Most freely I confess, myself and Toby
Set this device against Malvolio here,
Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts
We had conceiv'd against him: Maria writ
The letter at Sir Toby's great importance:
In recompense whereof, he hath married her.
How with a sportful malice it was follow'd,
May rather pluck on laughter than revenge;
If that the injuries be justly weigh'd,
That have on both sides past.

Oli. Alas, poor fool, how have they baffled thee ! Clo. Why, "some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrown upon them." I was one, sir, in this interlude,-one Sir Topas, sir; but that's all one.-" By the Lord, fool, I am not mad:"-but do you remember? "Madam, why laugh you at such a barren rascal? an you smile not, he's gagg'd:" and thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.

Mal. I'll be reveng'd on the whole pack of you.

[Exit,

Oli. He hath been most notoriously abus'd. Duke. Pursue him, and entreat him to a peace ;He hath not told us of the captain yet: When that is known, and golden time convents, A solemn combination shall be made Of our dear souls.-Meantime, sweet sister, We will not part from hence.-Cesario, come; For so you shall be, while you are a man, But when in other habits you are seen, Orsino's mistress, and his fancy's queen.

Clo.

[Exeunt all except Clown.

SONG.
When that I was and a little tiny boy,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
A foolish thing was but a toy,
For the rain it raineth every day.
But when I came to man's estate,

With hey, he, the wind and the rain, 'Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate, For the rain it raineth every day.

But when I came, alas! to wive
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain
By swaggering could I never thrive,
For the rain it raineth every day,

ACT I.

SCENE I-Sicilia. A Antechamber in Leontes

Palace.

Enter Camillo and Archidamus.

Arch. If you shall chance, Camillo, to visit Bohemia, on the like occasion whereon my services are now on foot, you shall see, as I have said, great difference betwixt our Bohemia and your Sicilia.

Cam. I think, this coming summer, the king of Sicilia means to pay Bohemia the visitation which he justly owes him.

Arch. Wherein our entertainment shall shame us, we will be justified in our loves; for, indeed,Cam. Beseech you,

Arch. Verily, I speak it in the freedom of my know ledge: we cannot with such magnificence-in so rare -I know not what to say.-We will give you sleepy drinks, that your senses, unintelligent of our insufficience, may, though they cannot praise us, as little [given freely. Cam. You pay a great deal too dear for what's Arch. Believe me, I speak as my understanding inStructs me, and as mine honesty puts it to utterance.

accuse us.

Cam. Sicilia cannot show himself over-kind to Bohemia. They were trained together in their childhoods; and there rooted betwixt them then such an affection, which cannot choose but branch now. Since their more mature dignities and royal necessities made separation of their society, their encounters, though not personal, have been royally attorneyed, with interchange of gifts, letters, loving embassies; that they have seemed to be together, though absent; shook hands, as over a vast; and embraced, as it were, from the ends of opposed winds. The heavens continue their loves!

Arch. I think there is not in the world either malice or matter to alter it. You have an unspeakable comfort of your young prince Mamillius: it is a gentleman of the greatest promise that ever came into my note. Cam. I very well agree with you in the hopes of him: it is a gallant child; one that, indeed, physics the subject, makes old hearts fresh: they that went on crutches ere he was born, desire yet their life to see him a man.

Arch. Would they else be content to die? Cam. Yes; if there were no other excuse why they should desire to live.

SCENE II.-Sicilia. A Room of State in the Palace
Enter Leontes, Polixenes, Hermione, Mamillius,
Camillo, and Attendants.

Pol. Nine changes of the wat'ry star have been
The shepherd's note, since we have left our throne
Without a burden: time as long again
Would be fill'd up, my brother, with our thanks;
And yet we should, for perpetuity,
Go hence in debt: and therefore, like a cipher,
Yet standing in rich place, I multiply
With one we-thank-you many thousands more
That go before it.
Leon.
Stay your thanks awhile,
And pay them when you part.
Pol.

Sir, that's to-morrow.
I am question'd by my fears, of what may chance,
Or breed upon our absence, that may blow
No sneaping winds at home, to make us say,
"This is put forth too truly." Besides, I have stay'd
To tire your royalty.
Leon.
We are tougher, brother,
That you can put us to 't.
Pol.
No longer stay.
Leon. One seven-night longer.
Pol.
Very sooth, to-morrow,
Leon. We'll part the time between's then: and in
I'll no gain-saying.
[that

Pol. Press me not, beseech you, so. There is no tongue that moves, none, none i' the world, So soon as yours could win me: so it should now, Were there necessity in your request, although were needful I denied it. My affairs Do even drag me homeward: which to hinder, Were in your love a whip to me; my stay To you a charge and trouble: to save both, Farewell, our brother.

Leon.

Arch. If the king had no son, they would desire to live on crutches till he had one.

You take my lord, I'll give him my commission,
To let him there a month behind the gest
Prefix'd for his parting:-yet, good deed, Leontes,
I love thee not a jar o' the clock behind
What lady she her lord. You'll stay?
Pol.

Her. Nay, but you will? Pol.

Her. Verily!

No, madam.

I may not, verily,

You put me off with limber vows; but I,
Though you would seek t unsphere the stars with
Should yet say, "Sir, no going. Verily, [oaths,
You shall not go: a lady's verily is
As potent as a lord's. Will you go yet?
Force me to keep you as a prisoner,

Not like a guest; so you shall pay your fees [you?
When you depart, and save your thanks. How say
My prisoner, or my guest? by your dread verily,
One of them you shall be.
Pol.
Your guest, then, madam:
To be your prisoner should import offending;
Which is for me less easy to commit,

Than you to punish.

Her.

Not your gaoier, then,

But your kind hostess. Coine, I'll question you
Of my lord's tricks and yours when you were boys;
You were pretty lordlings then.

Pol.
We were, fair queen,
Two lads that thought there was no more behind,
But such a day to-morrow as to-day,
And to be boy eternal.

Her. Was not my lord the verier wag o' the two? Pol. We were as twinn'd lambs that did frisk i' the

Is he won yet? Her. He'll stay, my lord. Leon.

To mingle friendship far, is mingling bloods.
I have tremor cordis on ine,-my heart dances;
But not for joy,-not joy.-This entertainment
May a free face put on; derive a liberty
From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom,
And well become the agent; it may, I grant:
But to be paddling palms and pinching fingers,
As now they are; and making practis'd smiles,
As in a looking-glass; and then to sigh, as 'twere
The mort o' the deer; O, that is entertainment
My bosom likes not, nor my brows.-Mamillius,
Art thou my boy?
Mam.
Ay, my good lord.
Leon.

I' fecks? Why, that's my bawcock. What, hast smutch'd thy nose?-

They say, it is a copy out of mine. Come, captain, We must be neat ;-not neat, but cleanly, captain: And yet the steer. the heifer, and the calf,

Are all call'd neat.-[Observing Pol. and Her.] Still virginalling

Upon his palm ?-How now, you wanton calf!
Art thou my calf?

Mam.

Yes, if you will, my lord.

Leon. Thou want'st a rough pash, and the shoots

that I have,

To be ful! like me :-yet they say we are
Almost as like as eggs; women say so,
That will say anything: but were they false
As o'er-dyed blacks, as wind, as waters,-false
As dice are to be wish'd by one that fixes
No bourn 'twixt his and mine,-yet were it true
To say this boy were like me.-Come, sir page,
Look on me with your welkin eye: sweet villain!
Most dear'st! my collop!-Can thy dam?-may 't be?—
Affection, thy intention stabs the centre;
Thou dost make possible, things not so held,
Communicat'st with dreams;-(how can this be?)--
With what's unreal thou coactive art,

And fellow'st nothing: then, 'tis very credent,
Thou mayst co-join with something; and thou dost ;
And that beyond commission; and I find it,)
And that to the infection of my brains,
And hardening of my brows.

Pol.

What means Sicilia ? Her. He something seems unsettled. Pol.

How, my lord? What cheer? how is 't with you, best brother? Her.

You look

As if you held a brow of much distraction:
Are you mov'd, my lord?
Leon.
No, in good earnest.-
[Aside.] How sometimes nature will betray its folly,
Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime
To harder bosoms! To her.] Looking on the lines
Of my boy's face, methought I did recoil
Twenty-three years, and saw myself unbreech'd,
In my green velvet coat; my dagger muzzled,

As ornaments oft do, too dangerous:

Her. What have I twice said well? when was 't before i

I prythee tell me; cram us with praise, and make us
As fat as tame things: one good deed, dying tongue-
Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. [less,
Our praises are our wages: you inay ride us
With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs, cre
With spur we heat an acre. But to the goal:-
My last good deed was to entreat his stay:
What was my first? it has an elder sister,

Or I mistake you: O, would her name were Grace!
But once before I spoke to the purpose: when?
Nay, let me hav't; I long.

Her. Why, lo you now, I have spoke to the purpose twice: The one for ever earn'd a royal husband; Th other for some while a friend.

Leon. [Aside.]

How like, methought, I then was to this kernel,
This squash, this gentleman.- Mine honest friend,
Will you take eggs for money?

Mam. No, my lord, I'll fight.

Leon. You will? why, happy man be his dole!-
My brother,

Are you so fond of your young prince, as we
Do seem to be of ours?

Pol.
If at home, sir,
He's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter:
Now my sworn friend, and then mine enemy;
My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all:
He makes a July's day short as December;
And with his varying childness cures in me
Thoughts that would thick my blood.

Do't, and thou hast the one half of my heart; Do't not, thou split'st thine own.

I'll do 't, my lord.

Cam
Leon. I will seem friendly, as thou hast advis'd me.
[Exit.

Cam. O miserable lady!-But, for me,
What case stand I in? I must be the poisoner
Of good Polixenes: and my ground to do 't
Is the obedience to a master; one,
Who, in rebellion with himself, will have
All that are his, so too.-To do this deed,
Promotion follows: if I could find example
Of thousands that had struck anointed kings,
And flourished after, I'd not do 't; but since

Nor brass, nor stone, nor parchment, bears not one,
Let villainy itself forswear 't. I must

Forsake the court: to do 't, or no, is certain
To me a break-neck. Happy star, reign now!
Here comes Bohemia.

Pol.

Enter Polixenes.

This is strange: methinks My favour here begins to warp. Not speak?— Good-day, Camillo.

Cam.

Hail, most royal sir!

Pol. What is the news i' the court? Cam. None rare, my lord. Pol. The king hath on him such a countenance, As he had lost some province, and a region Lov'd as he loves himself: even now I met him With customary compliment; when he, Wafting his eyes to the contrary, and falling A lip of much contempt, speeds from me; and So leaves me to consider what is breeding That changes thus his manners.

Cam. I dare not know, my lord.

Pol.

By the king

For what?

Cam. He thinks, nay, with all confidence he swears, As he had seen 't, or been an instrument

To vice you to 't, that you have touch'd his queen
Forbiddenly.

Pol.

O, then my best blood turn
To an infected jelly, and my name
Be yok'd with his that did betray the Best!
Turn then my freshest reputation to

A savour, that may strike the dullest nostril
Where I arrive; and my approach be shunn'd,
Nay, hated too, worse than the great'st infection
That e'er was heard, or read!
Cam.
Swear his thought over
By each particular star in heaven, and
By all their influences, you may as well
Forbid the sea for to obey the moon,
As, or by oath, remove, or counsel, shake
The fabric of his folly, whose foundation
Is pil'd upon his faith, and will continue
The standing of his body.

Pol.

How should this grow? Cam. I know not: but I am sure 'tis safer to Avoid what's grown, than question how 'tis born. If therefore you dare trust my honesty,That lies enclosed in this trunk, which you Shall bear along impawn'd,-away to-night. Your followers I will whisper to the business; And will, by twos and threes, at several posterns, Clear them o' the city: for myself, I'll put My fortunes to your service, which are here By this discovery lost. Be not uncertain; For, by the honour of my parents, I

Have utter'd truth; which, if you seek to prove, I dare not stand by; nor shall you be safer Than one condemned by the king's own mouth, Thereon his execution sworn.

Pol.

I do believe thee.

I saw his heart in his face. Give me thy hand:
Be pilot to me, and thy places shall

Still neighbour mine. My ships are ready, and
My people did expect my hence departure
Two days ago.-This jealousy

Is for a precious creature as she's rare,

Cam.

I may not answer.

Pol. A sickness caught of me, and yet I well! I must be answer'd.-Dost thou hear, Camillo,

I conjure thee, by all the parts of man

Which honour does acknowledge,-whereof the least
Is not this suit of mine,-that thou declare
What incidency thou dost guess of harm

Is creeping toward me; how far off, how near;
Which way to be prevented, if to be;
If not, how best to bear it.

Cam.
Sir, I will tell you;
Since I am charg'd in honour, and by him

That I think honourable: therefore mark my counsel,
Which must be even as swiftly follow'd, as
I mean to utter it, or both yourself and me
Cry, "lost," and so good-night.

Must it be violent; and, as he docs conceive
He is dishonoured by a man which ever
Profess'd to him, why, his revenges must

In that be made more bitter. Fear o'ershades me
Good expedition be my friend, and comfort
The gracious queen, part of his theme, but nothing
Of his ill-ta'en suspicion! Come, Camillo ;

I will respect thee as a father, if

Thou bear'st my life off hence: let us avoid.
Cam. It is in mine authority to command
The keys of all the posterns: please your highness
To take the urgent hour: come, sir, away!