Twelfth Night, or What You Will: ACT III , SCENE I. OLIVIA's garden.

Twelfth Night, or What You Will: ACT III


	Introduction

	ACT I

	ACT II

	ACT III

		SCENE I. OLIVIA's garden.

		SCENE II. OLIVIA's house.

		SCENE III. A street.

		SCENE IV. OLIVIA's garden.

	ACT IV

	ACT V

	About the Play

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SCENE I. OLIVIA's garden.

Enter VIOLA, and Clown with a tabour

VIOLA

Save thee, friend, and thy music: dost thou live by
thy tabour?

Clown

No, sir, I live by the church.

VIOLA

Art thou a churchman?

Clown

5     No such matter, sir: I do live by the church; for
      I do live at my house, and my house doth stand by
      the church.

VIOLA

      So thou mayst say, the king lies by a beggar, if a
      beggar dwell near him; or, the church stands by thy
10    tabour, if thy tabour stand by the church.

Clown

      You have said, sir. To see this age! A sentence is
      but a cheveril glove to a good wit: how quickly the
      wrong side may be turned outward!

VIOLA

Nay, that's certain; they that dally nicely with
15 words may quickly make them wanton.

Clown

I would, therefore, my sister had had no name, sir.

VIOLA

Why, man?

Clown

      Why, sir, her name's a word; and to dally with that
      word might make my sister wanton. But indeed words
20    are very rascals since bonds disgraced them.

VIOLA

Thy reason, man?

Clown

      Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words; and
      words are grown so false, I am loath to prove
      reason with them.

VIOLA

25 I warrant thou art a merry fellow and carest for nothing.

Clown

      Not so, sir, I do care for something; but in my
      conscience, sir, I do not care for you: if that be
      to care for nothing, sir, I would it would make you invisible.

VIOLA

Art not thou the Lady Olivia's fool?

Clown

30    No, indeed, sir; the Lady Olivia has no folly: she
      will keep no fool, sir, till she be married; and
      fools are as like husbands as pilchards are to
      herrings; the husband's the bigger: I am indeed not
      her fool, but her corrupter of words.

VIOLA

35 I saw thee late at the Count Orsino's.

Clown

      Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun,
      it shines every where. I would be sorry, sir, but
      the fool should be as oft with your master as with
      my mistress: I think I saw your wisdom there.

VIOLA

40 Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee.
Hold, there's expenses for thee.

Clown

Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send thee a beard!

VIOLA

By my troth, I'll tell thee, I am almost sick for
one;

Aside

45 though I would not have it grow on my chin. Is thy
lady within?

Clown

Would not a pair of these have bred, sir?

VIOLA

Yes, being kept together and put to use.

Clown

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

VIOLA

I understand you, sir; 'tis well begged.

Clown

      The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, begging but
      a beggar: Cressida was a beggar. My lady is
      within, sir. I will construe to them whence you
55    come; who you are and what you would are out of my
      welkin, I might say 'element,' but the word is over-worn.

Exit

VIOLA

      This fellow is wise enough to play the fool;
      And to do that well craves a kind of wit:
      He must observe their mood on whom he jests,
60    The quality of persons, and the time,
      And, like the haggard, cheque at every feather
      That comes before his eye. This is a practise
      As full of labour as a wise man's art
      For folly that he wisely shows is fit;
65    But wise men, folly-fall'n, quite taint their wit.

Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, and SIR ANDREW

SIR TOBY BELCH

Save you, gentleman.

VIOLA

And you, sir.

SIR ANDREW

Dieu vous garde, monsieur.

VIOLA

Et vous aussi; votre serviteur.

SIR ANDREW

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

SIR TOBY BELCH

Will you encounter the house? my niece is desirous
you should enter, if your trade be to her.

VIOLA

I am bound to your niece, sir; I mean, she is the
list of my voyage.

SIR TOBY BELCH

75 Taste your legs, sir; put them to motion.

VIOLA

My legs do better understand me, sir, than I
understand what you mean by bidding me taste my legs.

SIR TOBY BELCH

I mean, to go, sir, to enter.

VIOLA

I will answer you with gait and entrance. But we
80 are prevented.

Enter OLIVIA and MARIA

Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain
odours on you!

SIR ANDREW

That youth's a rare courtier: 'Rain odours;' well.

VIOLA

My matter hath no voice, to your own most pregnant
85 and vouchsafed ear.

SIR ANDREW

'Odours,' 'pregnant' and 'vouchsafed:' I'll get 'em
all three all ready.

OLIVIA

Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing.

Exeunt SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and MARIA

Give me your hand, sir.

VIOLA

90 My duty, madam, and most humble service.

OLIVIA

What is your name?

VIOLA

Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess.

OLIVIA

      My servant, sir! 'Twas never merry world
      Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment:
95    You're servant to the Count Orsino, youth.

VIOLA

And he is yours, and his must needs be yours:
Your servant's servant is your servant, madam.

OLIVIA

For him, I think not on him: for his thoughts,
Would they were blanks, rather than fill'd with me!

VIOLA

100 Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts
On his behalf.

OLIVIA

      O, by your leave, I pray you,
      I bade you never speak again of him:
      But, would you undertake another suit,
105   I had rather hear you to solicit that
      Than music from the spheres.

VIOLA

Dear lady,--

OLIVIA

      Give me leave, beseech you. I did send,
      After the last enchantment you did here,
110   A ring in chase of you: so did I abuse
      Myself, my servant and, I fear me, you:
      Under your hard construction must I sit,
      To force that on you, in a shameful cunning,
      Which you knew none of yours: what might you think?
115   Have you not set mine honour at the stake
      And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts
      That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiving
      Enough is shown: a cypress, not a bosom,
      Hideth my heart. So, let me hear you speak.

VIOLA

120 I pity you.

OLIVIA

That's a degree to love.

VIOLA

No, not a grize; for 'tis a vulgar proof,
That very oft we pity enemies.

OLIVIA

      Why, then, methinks 'tis time to smile again.
125   O, world, how apt the poor are to be proud!
      If one should be a prey, how much the better
      To fall before the lion than the wolf!

Clock strikes

      The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.
      Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you:
130   And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest,
      Your were is alike to reap a proper man:
      There lies your way, due west.

VIOLA

      Then westward-ho! Grace and good disposition
      Attend your ladyship!
135   You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?

OLIVIA

Stay:
I prithee, tell me what thou thinkest of me.

VIOLA

That you do think you are not what you are.

OLIVIA

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

VIOLA

140 Then think you right: I am not what I am.

OLIVIA

I would you were as I would have you be!

VIOLA

Would it be better, madam, than I am?
I wish it might, for now I am your fool.

OLIVIA

      O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
145   In the contempt and anger of his lip!
      A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon
      Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon.
      Cesario, by the roses of the spring,
      By maidhood, honour, truth and every thing,
150   I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride,
      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,
155   Love sought is good, but given unsought better.

VIOLA

      By innocence I swear, and by my youth
      I have one heart, one bosom and one truth,
      And that no woman has; nor never none
      Shall mistress be of it, save I alone.
160   And so adieu, good madam: never more
      Will I my master's tears to you deplore.

OLIVIA

Yet come again; for thou perhaps mayst move
That heart, which now abhors, to like his love.

Exeunt

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