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It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear,
As howling after music.
Still so cruel?
Oli. Still so constant, lord.
Duke. What! to perverseness? you uncivil lady, To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars
My soul the faithfull'st offerings hath breath'd out, That e'er devotion tender'd! What shall I do?
Oli. Even what it please my lord, that shall become him.
Duke. Why should I not, had I the heart to do it,
That sometime savours nobly?-But hear me this:
That screws me from my true place in your favour,
Where he sits crowned in his master's spite.-
I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love,
To spite a raven's heart within a dove.
Vio. And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly, To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.
Oli. Where goes Cesario?
After him I love,
More than I love these eyes, more than my life,
Punish my life, for tainting of my love!
Oli. Ah me, detested! how am I beguil'd! Vio. Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong?
• Dull, gross.
Oli. Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long?Call forth the holy father.
[Exit an Attendant.
Oli. Whither, my lord ?-Cesario, husband, stay. Duke. Husband?
Ay, husband; Can be that deny?
Duke. Her husband, sirrah?
No, my lord, not I.
Oli. Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear, That makes thee strangle thy propriety: Fear not, Cesario, take thy fortunes up;
Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art As great as that thou fear'st.-0, welcome, father!
Re-enter Attendant and Priest.
Eather, I charge thee, by thy reverence,
Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings;
Seal'd in my function, by my testimony:
Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my
I have travelled but two hours.
Duke. O, thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be, When time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy caset? Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow, That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow? Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feet, Where thou and I henceforth may never meet. Vio. My lord, I do protest,
Disown thy property.
Oli. O, do not swear: Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear.
Enter Sir Andrew Ague-cheek, with his head broke.
Sir And. For the love of God, a surgeon; send one presently to sir Toby.
Oli. What's the matter?
Sir And. He has broke my head across, and has given sir Toby a bloody coxcomb too: for the love of God, your help: I had rather than forty pound, I were at home.
Oli. Who has done this, sir Andrew?
Sir And, The count's gentleman, one Cesario: we took him for a coward, but he's the very devil incardinate.
Duke. My gentleman, Cesario?
Sir And. Od's lifelings, here he is:-You broke my head for nothing; and that that I did, I was set on to do't by sir Toby.
Vio. Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you: You drew your sword upon me, without cause; But I bespake you fair, and hurt you not.
Sir And. If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me; I think, you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb.
Enter Sir Toby Belch, drunk, led by the Clown.
Here comes sir Toby halting, you shall hear more: but if he had not been in drink, he would have tickled you othergates* than he did.
Duke. How now, gentleman? how is't with you? Sir To. That's all one; he has hurt me, aud there's the end on't.-Sot, did'st see Dick surgeon, sot?
Clo. O he's drunk, sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyes were set at eight i' the morning.
Sir To. Then he's a rogue. After a passy-measure, or a pavin*, I hate a drunken rogue.
Oli. Away with him: Who hath made this bavock with them?
Sir And. I'll help you, sir Toby, because we'll be dressed together..
Sir To. Will you help an ass-head, and a cox. comb, and a knave? a thin-faced knave, a gull? Oli. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to. [Exeunt Clown, Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew.
Seb. I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kins
But, had it been the brother of my blood,
I must have done no less, with wit, and safety.
Duke. One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons?
A natural perspective, that is, and is not.
How have the hours rack'd and tortur'd me,
Ant. Sebastian are you i
Fear'st thou that, Antonio?
: Ant. How have you made division of yourself? An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin
Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian?
Seb. Do I stand there? I never had a brother:
Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd:-
+ Out of charity tell me.
What countryman? what name? what parent
Vio. Of Messaline: Sebastian was my father;
So went he suited to his watery tomb:
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.
I'll bring you to a captain in this town,
Where lie my niaiden weeds; by whose gentle help,
Hath been between this lady, and this lord.
But nature to her bias drew in that.
Nor are you therein, by my life, deceiv'd;
Duke. Be not amaz'd; right noble is his blood.If this be so, as yet the glass seems true,