fore have these gifts a curtain before them? are they like to take dust, like mistress Mall's picture? 1 Why dost thou not go to church in a galliard, and come home in a coranto? 2 My 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. 3 Sir An. Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent well in a flame-colored stock.4 Shall we set about some revels? Sir To. What shall we do else? Were we not born under Taurus? Sir An. Taurus? that's sides and heart.5 Sir To. No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let me see thee caper: ha! higher: ha, ha!—excellent! SCENE IV. A room in the Duke's palace. [Exeunt. Enter VALENTINE, and VIOLA in man's attire. Val. If the duke continue these favors towards you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanced: he 1 Alluding to the notorious Mary Frith, commonly called Mall Cutpurse. 2 A jig. 3 A cinque-pace, the name of a dance. 4 Stocking. 5 In allusion to the medical astrology still preserved in some almanacks. SHAK. IV. B hath known you but three days, and already you are no stranger. Vio. You either fear his humor or my negligence, that you call in question the continuance of his love. Is he inconstant, sir, in his favors ? Val. No, believe me. -- Enter DUKE, CURIO, and Attendants. Vio. I thank you. Here comes the count. Vio. On your attendance, my lord; here. To thee the book even of my secret soul: Therefore, good youth, address thy gait1 unto her : And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow, 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, 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; Go thy ways. She will attend it better in thy youth, Dear lad, believe it; For they shall yet belie thy happy years, That say, thou art a man. Diana's lip 1 Is not more smooth and rubious; 1 thy small pipe For this affair.-Some four or five, attend him ; When least in company.-Prosper well in this, To call his fortunes thine. I'll do my best, Vio. 3 [Exeunt. SCENE V. A room in 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 1 Ruddy. Thy proper part in a play would be a woman's. 3 A contest full of impediments. enter, in way of thy excuse: my lady will hang thee for thy absence. Clown. Let her hang me: he, that is well hanged in this world, needs to fear no colors. Mar. Make that good. Clown. He shall see none to fear. Mar. A good lenten1 answer: I can tell thee where that saying was born, of, I fear no colors. Clown. Where, good mistress Mary? Mar. In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in your foolery. Clown. 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: or, to be turned away;—is not that as good as a hanging to you? Clown. Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage; and, for turning away, let summer bear it out.2 Mar. You are resolute then? Clown. 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.3 1 Short and spare. 2 During which season I shall find employment in every field, and lodging under every hedge. 3 Foints were metal hooks fastening the hose or breeches. Clown. Apt, in good faith; very apt! Well, go thy way; if sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a 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. Enter OLIVIA and MALVOLIO. [Exit. Clown. Wit, an 't be thy will, put me into good fooling! Those wits, that think they have thee, do very oft prove 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.— God bless thee, lady! Oli. Take the fool away. Clown. 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. Clown. Two faults, madonna,1 that drink and good counsel will amend: for give the dry fool drink, then is the fool not 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, so; if it will not, what Italian, mistress, dame. |