LINENOTES:

Scene iii. Olivia's house.] Rowe.

[2] diluculo] Rowe. Deliculo F1. Diliculo F2 F3 F4.

[3] know'st,—] Theobald. know'st. Ff.

[9] Does ... life] Rowe (ed. 2). Does ... lives Ff. Do ... lives Malone.

[12] Thou'rt Capell. Th'art Ff. Thou art Steevens.

[13] Marian] Maria Pope.

stoup] stoope F1 F2 F3. stoop F4.

[18] breast] breath L. H. apud Theobald conj.

[22] Pigrogromitus] Pigrogomitus Boswell.

[24] leman] Theobald. Lemon Ff.

[25] impeticos thy gratillity] impeticoat thy gratuity Rann (Johnson conj.).

[27] Myrmidons] Theobald. Mermidons Ff. Mirmidons Pope.

[33] give a—] See note (vii).

[39] and hear;] and heare, F1 F2. and hear, F3 F4. for here Collier MS.

[42] lovers] lovers' Warburton.

[46] love?] Pope, love, Ff.

[49] delay] decay Warburton.

[50] Then come kiss me] Come, a kiss then Johnson conj.

[52] true] a true Rowe.

[57] souls] sols (i.e. sous) Jackson conj.

[59] An] Pope. And Ff.

dog] dogge F1 F2. a dog F3 F4.

[64] knight?] Capell. knight. Ff.

[70] Scene iv. Pope.

[75] am I not] am not I F3 F4.

[76, 81] [Sings] Singing. Rowe.

[81] O] O' S. Walker conj.

the twelfth] the twelfe F1 F2. twelf F3 F4.

[85] ye] you Hanmer.

[86] coziers'] cottiers Warburton.

[89, 90] Sneck up] F3 F4. Snecke up F1 F2. Strike up Rowe (ed. 2). Sneak-cup Rann (Steevens and Capell conj.). Sneb up Becket conj. Snack up Jackson conj. Snick up Collier (Dyce).

[90] [Hiccoughs. Theobald.

[92] though] F1 F2. om. F3 F4.

[93] kinsman] uncle Rowe (ed. 2).

[95] an] Rowe (ed. 2). and Ff.

[97] See note (viii).

[98] Mar.] Mal. Steevens.

[101] never] nevery F2.

[105] an] Theobald, and Ff.

[107] no, no, no, no] no, no, no Theobald.

[108] tune, sir:] tune sir, Ff. time, sir? Theobald, tune!—sir, Collier. tune, sir? Staunton.

Art] Art thou Rowe.

[113] Thou'rt] Rowe. Th'art Ff.

chain] chin Johnson conj.

[114] stoup] stope Ff. stoop Rowe.

[120] the field] to the field Rowe (ed. 2.)

[125] the youth] that youth Collier MS.

count's] Duke's Rowe.

[127] a nayword] Rowe. an ayword Ff. a byeword L.H. apud Theobald conj.

[130] Sir To.] Sir And. S. Walker conj.

[132] puritan] a puritan Hanmer.

[139] affectioned] affected Hanmer.

[140] state without book] stale wit out of books Anon. conj.

swarths] swaths Collier.

[142] grounds] F1. ground F2 F3 F4.

[155] letters] letter Collier MS.

[156] they come] it comes Collier MS.

she's] she is F4.

[159] Sir And.] Sir To. Harness (Tyrwhitt conj.).

[160] Ass, I] As I S. Walker conj.

[163] with him] him him Rowe (ed. 2).

[164] his] F1. this F2 F3 F4.

Scene IV. The Duke's palace.

Enter Duke, Viola, Curio, and others.
Duke. Give me some music. Now, good morrow, friends.
Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song,
That old and antique song we heard last night:
Methought it did relieve my passion much,
5
More than light airs and recollected terms
Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times:
Come, but one verse.
Cur. He is not here, so please your lordship, that
should sing it.
10
Duke. Who was it?
Cur. Feste, the jester, my lord; a fool that the lady Olivia's
father took much delight in. He is about the house.
Duke. Seek him out, and play the tune the while.
[Exit Curio. Music plays.
Come hither, boy: if ever thou shalt love,
15
In the sweet pangs of it remember me;
For such as I am all true lovers are,
Unstaid and skittish in all motions else,
Save in the constant image of the creature
That is beloved. How dost thou like this tune?
20
Vio. It gives a very echo to the seat
Where Love is throned.
Duke. Thou dost speak masterly:
My life upon't, young though thou art, thine eye
Hath stay'd upon some favour that it loves:
Hath it not, boy?
25
Vio. A little, by your favour.
Duke. What kind of woman is't?
Vio. Of your complexion.
Duke. She is not worth thee, then. What years, i' faith?
Vio. About your years, my lord.
Duke. Too old, by heaven: let still the woman take
30
An elder than herself; so wears she to him,
So sways she level in her husband's heart:
For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,
Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,
More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn,
Than women's are.
35
Vio. I think it well, my lord.
Duke. Then let thy love be younger than thyself,
Or thy affection cannot hold the bent;
For women are as roses, whose fair flower
Being once display'd, doth fall that very hour.
40
Vio. And so they are: alas, that they are so;
To die, even when they to perfection grow!
Re-enter Curio and Clown.
Duke. O, fellow, come, the song we had last night.
Mark it, Cesario, it is old and plain;
The spinsters and the knitters in the sun
45
And the free maids that weave their thread with bones
Do use to chant it: it is silly sooth,
And dallies with the innocence of love,
Like the old age.
Clo. Are you ready, sir?
50
Duke. Ay; prithee, sing. [Music.
Song.
Clo. Come away, come away, death,
And in sad cypress let me be laid;
Fly away, fly away, breath;
I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
55
My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,
O, prepare it!
My part of death, no one so true
Did share it.
Not a flower, not a flower sweet,
60
On my black coffin let there be strown;
Not a friend, not a friend greet
My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown:
A thousand thousand sighs to save,
Lay me, O, where
65
Sad true lover never find my grave,
To weep there!
Duke. There's for thy pains.
Clo. No pains, sir; I take pleasure in singing, sir.
Duke. I'll pay thy pleasure then.
70
Clo. Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or
another.
Duke. Give me now leave to leave thee.
Clo. Now, the melancholy god protect thee; and the
tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffeta, for thy mind
75
is a very opal. I would have men of such constancy put
to sea, that their business might be every thing and their
intent every where; for that's it that always makes a good
voyage of nothing. Farewell. [Exit.
Duke. Let all the rest give place. [Curio and Attendants retire.
Once more, Cesario,
80
Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty:
Tell her, my love, more noble than the world,
Prizes not quantity of dirty lands;
The parts that fortune hath bestow'd upon her,
Tell her, I hold as giddily as fortune;
85
But 'tis that miracle and queen of gems
That nature pranks her in attracts my soul.
Vio. But if she cannot love you, sir?
Duke. I cannot be so answer'd.
Vio. Sooth, but you must.
Say that some lady, as perhaps there is,
90
Hath for your love as great a pang of heart
As you have for Olivia: you cannot love her;
You tell her so; must she not then be answer'd?
Duke. There is no woman's sides
Can bide the beating of so strong a passion
95
As love doth give my heart; no woman's heart
So big, to hold so much; they lack retention.
Alas, their love may be call'd appetite,—
No motion of the liver, but the palate,—
That suffer surfeit, cloyment and revolt;
100
But mine is all as hungry as the sea,
And can digest as much: make no compare
Between that love a woman can bear me
And that I owe Olivia.
Vio. Ay, but I know,—
Duke. What dost thou know?
105
Vio. Too well what love women to men may owe:
In faith, they are as true of heart as we.
My father had a daughter loved a man,
As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman,
I should your lordship.
Duke. And what's her history?
110
Vio. A blank, my lord. She never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,
Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought;
And with a green and yellow melancholy
She sat like patience on a monument,
115
Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?
We men may say more, swear more: but indeed
Our shows are more than will; for still we prove
Much in our vows, but little in our love.
Duke. But died thy sister of her love, my boy?
120
Vio. I am all the daughters of my father's house,
And all the brothers too: and yet I know not.
Sir, shall I to this lady?
Duke. Ay, that's the theme.
To her in haste; give her this jewel; say,
My love can give no place, bide no denay. [Exeunt.

LINENOTES:

Scene IV.] Scene V. Pope.

The Duke's palace.] The Palace. Rowe.

[5] terms] tunes Knight conj.

[13] Seek] Go, seek Capell.

[Exit Curio.] Pope.

[17] motions] notions Warburton (Theobald conj.). See note (ix).

[20] to the seat] from the seat Warburton.

[34] worn] F4. worne F1 F2 F3. won Hanmer.

[41] Re-enter....] Enter.... Ff.

[45] free] fair Grey conj.

[47] dallies] tallies Warburton.

[50] Ay; prithee] Ay; pr'ythee Capell. I prethee Ff.

[53] Fly ... fly] Rowe. Fye ... fie F1

F2. Fie ... fie F3 F4.

[56] O, prepare] Prepare Pope.

[64] O, where] where Pope.

[65] Sad] om. Pope.

true lover] true-love Capell.

never] ne'er Rann.

[71] another] other Rowe.

[72] Give me ... thee] I give thee ... me Harness.

[73] Clo.] Duk. F2.

[77] every where] no where Warburton.

[79] Scene vi. Pope.

[C. and A. retire.] Edd. Exeunt C. and A. Capell. om. Ff.

[86] pranks her in] pranks, her mind, Warburton. pranks in her Jackson conj.

[88] I] Hanmer. It Ff.

[97, 98] appetite,— ... palate,—] Capell, appetite, ... pallat F1 F2. appetite: ... pallat, F3 F4.

[99] suffer] suffers Rowe.

[101] digest] disgest F2.

[109] And what's] What's Pope.

[113] a green and yellow] agrein and hallow Becket conj.

[114] sat like ... monument,] sat, like ... monument Hunter conj.

[120, 121] I am all the daughters ... And all the brothers too;—and yet] She's all the daughters ... And I am all the sons, but yet Hanmer.

[124] My] F1 F3 F4. Thy F2.

Scene V. Olivia's garden.

Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian.
Sir To. Come thy ways, Signior Fabian.
Fab. Nay, I'll come: if I lose a scruple of this sport,
let me be boiled to death with melancholy.
Sir To. Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly
5
rascally sheep-biter come by some notable shame?
Fab. I would exult, man: you know, he brought me
out o' favour with my lady about a bear-baiting here.
Sir To. To anger him we'll have the bear again; and
we will fool him black and blue: shall we not, Sir Andrew?
10
Sir And. An we do not, it is pity of our lives.
Sir To. Here comes the little villain.
Enter Maria.
How now, my metal of India!
Mar. Get ye all three into the box-tree: Malvolio's
coming down this walk: he has been yonder i' the sun
15
practising behaviour to his own shadow this half hour: observe
him, for the love of mockery; for I know this letter
will make a contemplative idiot of him. Close, in the
name of jesting! Lie thou there [throws down a letter];
for here comes the trout that must be caught with
20
tickling.[Exit.
Enter Malvolio.
Mal. 'Tis but fortune; all is fortune. Maria once told
me she did affect me: and I have heard herself come thus
near, that, should she fancy, it should be one of my complexion.
Besides, she uses me with a more exalted respect
25
than any one else that follows her. What should I think
on't?
Sir To. Here's an overweening rogue!
Fab. O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock
of him: how he jets under his advanced plumes!
30
Sir And. 'Slight, I could so beat the rogue!
Sir To. Peace, I say.
Mal. To be Count Malvolio!
Sir To. Ah, rogue!
Sir And. Pistol him, pistol him.
35
Sir To. Peace, peace!
Mal. There is example for't; the lady of the Strachy
married the yeoman of the wardrobe.
Sir And. Fie on him, Jezebel!
Fab. O, peace! now he's deeply in: look how imagination
40
blows him.
Mal. Having been three months married to her, sitting
in my state,—
Sir To. O, for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye!
Mal. Calling my officers about me, in my branched
45
velvet gown; having come from a day-bed, where I have
left Olivia sleeping,—
Sir To. Fire and brimstone!
Fab. O, peace, peace!
Mal. And then to have the humour of state; and after a
50
demure travel of regard, telling them I know my place as I
would they should do theirs, to ask for my kinsman Toby,—
Sir To. Bolts and shackles!
Fab. O, peace, peace, peace! now, now.
Mal. Seven of my people, with an obedient start,
55
make out for him: I frown the while; and perchance wind
up my watch, or play with my—some rich jewel. Toby
approaches; courtesies there to me,—
Sir To. Shall this fellow live?
Fab. Though our silence be drawn from us with cars,
60
yet peace.
Mal. I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my
familiar smile with an austere regard of control,—
Sir To. And does not Toby take you a blow o' the
lips then?
65
Mal. Saying, 'Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast
me on your niece give me this prerogative of speech,'—
Sir To. What, what?
Mal. 'You must amend your drunkenness.'
Sir To. Out, scab!
70
Fab. Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot.
Mal. 'Besides, you waste the treasure of your time
with a foolish knight,'—
Sir And. That's me, I warrant you.
Mal. 'One Sir Andrew,'—
75
Sir And. I knew 'twas I; for many do call me fool.
Mal. What employment have we here? [Taking up the letter.
Fab. Now is the woodcock near the gin.
Sir To. O, peace! and the spirit of humours intimate
reading aloud to him!
80
Mal. By my life, this is my lady's hand: these be her
very C's, her U's and her T's; and thus makes she her
great P's. It is, in contempt of question, her hand.
Sir And. Her C's, her U's and her T's: why that?
Mal. [reads] To the unknown beloved, this, and my good
85
wishes:—her very phrases! By your leave, wax. Soft!
and the impressure her Lucrece, with which she uses to
seal: 'tis my lady. To whom should this be?
Fab. This wins him, liver and all.
Mal. [reads] Jove knows I love:
90
But who?;
Lips, do not move;
No man must know.
'No man must know.' What follows? the numbers altered!
'No man must know:' if this should be thee, Malvolio?
95
Sir To. Marry, hang thee, brock!
Mal. [reads] I may command where I adore;
But silence, like a Lucrece knife,
With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore:
M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.
100
Fab. A fustian riddle!
Sir To. Excellent wench, say I.
Mal. 'M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.' Nay, but first,
let me see, let me see, let me see.
Fab. What dish o' poison has she dressed him!
105
Sir To. And with what wing the staniel checks at it!
Mal. 'I may command where I adore.' Why, she
may command me: I serve her; she is my lady. Why, this
is evident to any formal capacity; there is no obstruction
in this: and the end,—what should that alphabetical position
110
portend? If I could make that resemble something
in me,—Softly! M, O, A, I,—
Sir To. O, ay, make up that: he is now at a cold scent.
Fab. Sowter will cry upon't for all this, though it be
as rank as a fox.
115
Mal. M,—Malvolio; M,—why, that begins my name.
Fab. Did not I say he would work it out? the cur is
excellent at faults.
Mal. M,—but then there is no consonancy in the sequel;
that suffers under probation: A should follow, but O does.
120
Fab. And O shall end, I hope.
Sir To. Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make him cry O!
Mal. And then I comes behind.
Fab. Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you might
see more detraction at your heels than fortunes before you.
125
Mal. M, O, A, I; this simulation is not as the former:
and yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every
one of these letters are in my name. Soft! here follows prose.
[Reads] If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I am above
thee; but be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve
130
greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em. Thy Fates open
their hands; let thy blood and spirit embrace them; and, to inure
thyself to what thou art like to be, cast thy humble slough and appear
fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants; let thy
tongue tang arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of singularity:
135
she thus advises thee that sighs for thee. Remember who
commended thy yellow stockings, and wished to see thee ever cross-
gartered: I say, remember. Go to, thou art made, if thou desirest to
be so; if not, let me see thee a steward still, the fellow of servants,
and not worthy to touch Fortune's fingers. Farewell. She that would
140
alter services with thee,
The Fortunate-Unhappy.
Daylight and champain discovers not more: this is open.
I will be proud, I will read politic authors, I will baffle Sir
Toby, I will wash off gross acquaintance, I will be point-devise
145
the very man. I do not now fool myself, to let imagination
jade me; for every reason excites to this, that my lady
loves me. She did commend my yellow stockings of late,
she did praise my leg being cross-gartered; and in this she
manifests herself to my love, and with a kind of injunction
150
drives me to these habits of her liking. I thank my stars I
am happy. I will be strange, stout, in yellow stockings, and
cross-gartered, even with the swiftness of putting on. Jove
and my stars be praised! Here is yet a postscript.
[Reads] Thou canst not choose but know who I am. If thou entertainest
155
my love, let it appear in thy smiling; thy smiles become
thee well; therefore in my presence still smile, dear my sweet, I prithee.
Jove, I thank thee: I will smile; I will do every thing that
thou wilt have me. [Exit.
Fab. I will not give my part of this sport for a pension
160
of thousands to be paid from the Sophy.
Sir To. I could marry this wench for this device.
Sir And. So could I too.
Sir To. And ask no other dowry with her but such
another jest.
165
Sir And. Nor I neither.
Fab. Here comes my noble gull-catcher.
Re-enter Maria.
Sir To. Wilt thou set thy foot o' my neck?
Sir And. Or o' mine either?
Sir To. Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and become
170
thy bond-slave?
Sir And. I' faith, or I either?
Sir To. Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that
when the image of it leaves him he must run mad.
Mar. Nay, but say true; does it work upon him?
175
Sir To. Like aqua-vitæ with a midwife.
Mar. If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark
his first approach before my lady: he will come to her in
yellow stockings, and 'tis a colour she abhors, and cross-gartered,
a fashion she detests; and he will smile upon her,
180
which will now be so unsuitable to her disposition, being
addicted to a melancholy as she is, that it cannot but turn
him into a notable contempt. If you will see it, follow me.
Sir To. To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent
devil of wit!
185
Sir And. I'll make one too. [Exeunt.