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Enter Olivia and attendants. Duke. Here comes the countess; now heaven
walks on earth. But for thee, fellow, fellow, thy words are madness: Three months this youth hath tended upon me; But more of that anon.--Take him aside. Oli. What would my lord, but that he may not
Oli. If it be aught to the old tune, my lord,
Still so cruel ?
Duke. What! to perverseness? you uncivil lady, To'whose ingrate and unsuspicious 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 be
come him. Duke. Why should I not, had I the heart to do it, Like to the Egyptian thief, at point of death, Kill what I love; a savage jealousy, That sometime savours nobly?-But hear me this : Since you to non-regardance cast my faith, And that I partly know the instrument That screws me from my true place in your favour, Live you, the marble-breasted tyrant, still ; But this your minion, whom, I know, you love, And whom, by heaven I swear, I tender dearly, Him will I tear out of that cruel eye, Where he sits crowned in his master's spite.
* Doll, gross.
Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mis
chief; I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love, To spite a raven's heart within a dove. [Going
Vio. And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly, To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.
[Following Oli. Where goes Cesario ? Vio.
After him I love,
Oli. Ah me, detested! how am I beguil'd !
[To Viola. Oli. Whither, my lord?—Cesario, husband, stay. Duke. Husband ? Oil.
Ay, husband; Can he that deny?: Duke. Her husband, sirrah ? Vio
No, my lord, not I.
Re-enter Attendant and Priest.
Priest. A contract of eternal bond of love, .
* Disown thy property,
Attested by the holy close of lips,
Duke. O thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be,
Vio. My lord, I do protest,-:
0, 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.
* Skin. VOL. I.
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, and there's the end on't.--Sot, did'st see Dick surgeon,
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 pavint, I hate a drunken rogue.
Oli. Away with him: Who hath made this havock 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 coxcomb, 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.
Enter Sebastian. Seb. I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kins
man; But, had it been the brother of my blood, s, I must have done no less, with wit, and safety. You throw a strange regard upon me, and By that I do perceive it hath offended you; Pardon me, sweet one, even for the vows We made each other but so late ago. Duke. One face, one voice, one habit, and two
Seb. Antonio, O my dear Antonio !
Ant. Sebastian are you?
Fear'st thou that, Antonio ?
+ Serious dances.
An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin
Oli. Most wonderful !
Seb. Do I stand there? I never had a brother :
Vio. Of Messaline : Sebastian was my father;
A spirit I am indeed;
Vio. My father had a mole upon his brow.
Vio. And died that day when Viola from her birtle Had number'd thirteen years.
Seb. O, that record is lively in my soul !
Vio. If nothing letst to make us happy both,
To Olivia. * Out of charity tell me.