12th Nite, Act III

Twelfth Night, Act III

ACT III, SCENE 1.	CANNONBALL.

[A city in Illyria. Olivia's garden. CLOWN sits, playing his guitar. 
Enter VIOLA, eating an apple.]
       VIOLA.
Save you, friend, and your music! do you live by your guitar?
      CLOWN.
No, sir, I live by the church.
       VIOLA.
Are you a churchman?
      CLOWN.
No such matter, sir: I do live by the church; for I do live at my 
house, and my house does stand by the church.
       VIOLA.
So you may say, the king makes his living by a beggar, if a beggar 
dwell near him; or, the church stands by your guitar, if your guitar 
stand by the church. 
      CLOWN.
You have said, sir.-- To see this age!-- A sentence is but a glove to 
a good wit: how quickly the wrong side may be turned outward! 
Indeed, words are very rascals, since bonds disgraced them.
       VIOLA.
Your 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.
I warrant you are a merry fellow. Are not you the Lady Olivia's 
fool?
      CLOWN.
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. I am, indeed, 
not her fool, but her corrupter of words.
       VIOLA.
I saw you 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.
Hold, there's expenses for you. [Pays him]
      CLOWN.
Now Jove, in his next consignment of hair, send you a beard!
       VIOLA.
By my troth, I'll tell you, I am almost sick for one; though I would 
not have it grow on my chin. Is your lady within? 
      CLOWN.
Would not a pair of these [coins]  have bred, sir?
       VIOLA.
Yes, being kept together and put to use. [Pays him again]  I 
understand you, sir; 'tis well begged. 
      CLOWN.
My lady is within, sir. I will explain to them whence you come; who 
you are, and what you  would. [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,
The quality of persons, and the time;
For folly, that he wisely shows, is fit; 
But wise men, folly-fallen, quite taint their wit.
 [A golf ball rolls across the stage. Enter SIR TOBY and SIR 
ANDREW, following it.]
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Save you, gentleman!
       VIOLA.
And you, sir. 
      SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK.
"Dieu vous garde, monsieur."2
       VIOLA.
"Et vous aussi; votre serviteur."3
      SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK.
I hope, sir, you are; and I am yours. 
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Will you approach 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.
Try your legs, sir; put them to motion.
       VIOLA.
My legs do better understand me, sir, than I understand what you 
mean by bidding me try my legs. 
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
I mean, to go, sir, to enter.
       VIOLA.
I will answer you with gait and entrance:-- but we are prevented. 
 [Enter OLIVIA and MARIA.]
Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain odors on you! 
My matter has no voice, lady, but to your own most pregnant and 
vouchsafed ear. 
      OLIVIA.
Let the garden-door be shut, and leave me to my hearing.
[Exeunt SIR TOBY and MARIA. SIR ANDREW lingers.]
      OLIVIA.
Give me your  hand, sir. 
       VIOLA.
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! 
Y'are 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 filled with me!
       VIOLA.
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,
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
A ring in chase of you: so did I deceive
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? 
Let me hear you speak.
       VIOLA.
I pity you.
      OLIVIA.
			That is a step to love.
       VIOLA.
No, not a step; for 'tis a vulgar proof,
That very oft we pity enemies. 
      OLIVIA.
Why, then, I think, 'tis time to smile again. 
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:
And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest,
Your wife is like to reap a proper man: 
There lies your way, due west. 
       VIOLA.
				Then westward-ho!--
Grace and good disposition attend your ladyship! 
You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?
      OLIVIA.
Stay:
I pray you, tell me what you think 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.
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.
[ASIDE]  O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful 
In the contempt and anger of his lip!
Cesario, by the roses of the spring, 
By maidhood, honor, truth, and every thing,
I love you so, that, despite all your pride,
Not wit nor reason can my passion hide. 
       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.
And so adieu, good madam: never more 
Will I my master's tears to you deplore.
      OLIVIA.
Yet come again; for you perhaps may move
That heart, which now abhors, to like his love. [Exeunt.] 

[The action is continuous from III, 1 to III, 2.


ACT III, SCENE 2.	I ALONE 1.

[Olivia's house. Enter SIR TOBY, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN.]
      SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK.
No, faith, I'll not stay a jot longer. 
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Your reason, dear venom; give your reason.
      FABIAN.
You must needs yield your reason, Sir Andrew.
      SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK.
Marry, I saw your niece do more favors to the count's serving-man 
than ever she bestowed upon me. 
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Did she see you the while, old boy? tell me that. 
      SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK.
As plain as I see you now. 
      FABIAN.
This was a great argument of love in her toward you.
      SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK.
'Slight, will you make an ass o' me?
      FABIAN.
I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of judgment and 
reason. She did show favor to the youth in your sight only to 
exasperate you, to awake your dormouse valor, to put fire in your 
heart, and brimstone in your liver. You should then have accosted 
her; and with some excellent jests, fire-new from the mint, you 
should have banged the youth into dumbness. This was looked for 
at your hand, and this was balked: the double gilt of this opportunity 
you let time wash off, and you are now sailed into the north of my 
lady's opinion; where you will hang like an icicle on a Dutchman's 
beard, unless you do redeem it by some laudable attempt either of 
valor or trickery.
     SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK.
If't be any way, it must be with valor.
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Why, then, build me your fortunes upon the basis of valor. 
Challenge me the count's youth to fight with him; hurt him in eleven 
places; my niece shall take note of it; and assure yourself, there is no 
love-broker in the world can more prevail in man's commendation 
with woman than report of valor. 
      FABIAN.
There is no way but this, Sir Andrew. 
      SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK.
Will either of you bear me a challenge to him? 
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Go, write it in a martial hand; be curst and brief; it is no matter how 
witty, so it be eloquent and full of invention:  taunt him with the 
license of ink: and as many lies as will lie in your sheet of paper, set 
'em down: go, about it. Let there be gall enough in your ink!
      SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK.
Where shall I find you?
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
We'll call you at the "Cubiculo": go. [Exit SIR ANDREW.]
      FABIAN.
This is a dear mannequin to you, Sir Toby. 
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
I have been dear to him, lad,-- some two thousand strong, or so.
      FABIAN.
We shall have a rare letter from him: but you'll not deliver't? 
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Never trust me, then; and by all means stir on the youth to an 
answer. I think oxen cannot bring them together. For Andrew, if he 
were opened, and you find so much blood in his liver as will clog 
the foot of a flea, I'll eat the rest of th'anatomy.
      FABIAN.
And his opposite, the youth, bears in his visage no great presage of 
cruelty. 
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Look, where the youngest wren of mine comes.
      MARIA [entering].
If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourselves into stitches, 
follow me. Yond gull Malvolio is turned heathen, a very renegado; 
for there is no Christian, that means to be  saved by believing 
rightly, can ever believe such impossible passages of grossness. 
He's in yellow stockings.
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
And cross-suspendered? 
      MARIA.
Most villainously; I have dogged him, like his murderer. He does 
obey every point of the letter that I dropped to betray him: he does 
smile his face into more lines than is in a new map: you have not 
seen such a thing as 'tis; I can hardly forbear hurling things at him. I 
know my lady will strike him: if she do, he'll smile, and tak't for a 
great favor.
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Come, bring us where he is. [Exeunt.]


ACT III, SCENE 3.	I ALONE 2.

[Music: "I, Alone.," which plays under the whole scene. A street. 
Enter SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO.]

      SEBASTIAN.
I would not, by my will, have troubled you.
      ANTONIO.
I could not stay behind you: my desire,
More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth.
These parts; which to a stranger,
Unguided and unfriended, often prove
Rough and unhospitable.
      SEBASTIAN.
			My kind Antonio,
I can no other answer make, but thanks.
Shall we go see the relics of this town?
      ANTONIO.
Tomorrow, sir; best first go see your lodging.
      SEBASTIAN.
I am not weary, and 'tis long to night:
I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes
With the memorials and the things of fame
That do renown this city. 
      ANTONIO.
			Would you'ld pardon me;
I do not without danger walk these streets: 
Once, in a street-fight, 'gainst Orsino's men
I did some service; of such note, indeed,
That, were I ta'en here, it would scarce be answered.
      SEBASTIAN.
Belike you slew great number of his people? 

      ANTONIO.
Th'offence is not of such a bloody nature;
Albeit the quality of the time and quarrel
Might well have given us bloody argument.
It might have since been answered in repaying
What we took from them; 
For which, if I be found in this place, 
I shall pay dear.
      SEBASTIAN.
			Do not, then, walk too open.
      ANTONIO.
It does not fit me. Hold, sir, here's my purse.
[Hands over his credit card.]
In the south suburbs, at the Elephant,
Is best to lodge: I will bespeak our diet,
Whiles you beguile the time and feed your knowledge
With viewing of the town: there shall you have me.
      SEBASTIAN.
Why I your purse?
      ANTONIO.
Haply your eye shall light upon some toy 
You have desire to purchase; and your store,
I think, is not for idle markets, sir.
      SEBASTIAN.
I'll be your purse-bearer, and leave you for
An hour.
      ANTONIO.
		To th'Elephant.
      SEBASTIAN.
 				I do remember. [Exeunt. Music 
swells.]

ACT III,  SCENE 4.	MADNESS HIGH FANTASTICAL.

[Olivia's garden. Enter OLIVIA, sniffing a rose, and MARIA.]

      OLIVIA.
I have sent after him: he says he'll come;--
How shall I feast him? what bestow of him?
I speak too loud.--
Where is Malvolio?-- he is sad and civil,
And suits well for a servant with my fortunes:-- 
Where is Malvolio?
      MARIA.
He's coming, madam; but in very strange manner. He is,
sure, possessed, madam.
      OLIVIA.
Why, what's the matter? does he rave? 
      MARIA.
No, madam, he does nothing but smile: your ladyship were
best to have some guard about you, if he come; for, sure,
the man is tainted in's wits.
      OLIVIA.
Go call him hither. [Exit MARIA.]  I am as mad as he,
If sad and merry madness equal be. 
 [Enter MARIA, with MALVOLIO.]
How now, Malvolio!
      MALVOLIO.
Sweet lady, ho, ho. [Smiles fantastically.]
      OLIVIA.
Do you smile? 
I sent for you upon a sad occasion.
      MALVOLIO.
Sad, lady! I could be sad: this does make some obstruction 
in the blood, this cross-suspendering; but what of that? if it
please the eye of one....
      OLIVIA.
Why, how do you, man? what is the matter with you?
      MALVOLIO.
Not black in my mind, though yellow in my legs. It did come
to his hands, and commands shall be executed: I think we do
know the sweet Roman hand.
      OLIVIA.
Will you go to bed, Malvolio?
      MALVOLIO.
To bed! ay, sweet-heart; and I'll come to you.
      OLIVIA.
God comfort you! Why do you smile so? 
      MARIA.
Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady?
      MALVOLIO.
"Be not afraid of greatness:"-- 'twas well writ.
      OLIVIA.
What mean you by that, Malvolio?
      MALVOLIO.
"Some are born great,"--
      OLIVIA.
Ha!
      MALVOLIO.
"Some achieve greatness,"--
      OLIVIA.
What say you?
      MALVOLIO.
"And some have greatness thrust upon them." 
      OLIVIA.
Heaven restore you!
      MALVOLIO.
"Remember who commended your yellow stockings,"--
      OLIVIA.
Your yellow stockings!
      MALVOLIO.
"And wished to see you cross-suspendered." 
      OLIVIA.
Cross-suspendered!
      MALVOLIO.
"Go to, you are made, if you desire to be so;"--
      OLIVIA.
Am I made? 
      MALVOLIO.
"If not, let me see you a servant still."
      OLIVIA.
Why, this is very midsummer madness.
 [Enter a SERVANT.]
      SERVANT.
Madam, the young gentleman of the Count Orsino's is returned: I 
could hardly entreat him back: he attends your ladyship's pleasure.
      OLIVIA.
I'll come to him. [Exit SERVANT.]  Good Maria, let this fellow be 
looked to. Where's my uncle Toby? Let some of my people have a 
special care of him. 
[Exeunt OLIVIA and MARIA.]
      MALVOLIO [Acting the head of the household].
O, ho! do you come near me now? no worse man than Sir Toby to 
look to me? This concurs directly with the letter: she sends him on 
purpose, that I may appear stubborn to him; for she incites me to 
that in the letter. "Cast your humble slough," says she; "be opposite 
with a kinsman, surly with  servants; let your tongue tang with 
arguments of state;-- and, consequently, sets down the manner 
how; as, a sad face, a slow tongue, and so forth. I have caught her; 
but it is Jove's doing, and Jove make me thankful! And, when she 
went away now, "Let this fellow be looked to:" fellow! not 
Malvolio, nor after  my degree, but fellow. Why, every thing 
adheres together, that no dram of a scruple, no scruple of a scruple, 
no obstacle, no incredulous or unsafe circumstance-- What can be 
said? Nothing, that can be, can come between me and the full 
prospect of my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of  this, and he 
is to be thanked.
 [Enter MARIA with SIR TOBY and FABIAN.]
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all the devils of hell be 
drawn in, and Legion himself possessed him, yet I'll speak to him.
      FABIAN.
Here he is, here he is.-- How is't with you, sir? how is't with you, 
man?
      MALVOLIO.
Go off; I discard you: let me enjoy my privacy: go off. 
      MARIA.
Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him; did not I tell you?-- 
Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a care of him.
      MALVOLIO.
Ah, ha! does she so?
      SIR TOBY BELCH.
Peace, peace; we must deal gently with him: let me alone.-- How 
do you, Malvolio? how is't with you? What, man! defy the devil: 
consider, he's an enemy to mankind.
      MALVOLIO.
Do you know what you say? 
      MARIA.
Look you, if you speak ill of the devil, how he takes it to heart! Pray 
God, he is not bewitched! 
      MALVOLIO.
How now, mistress!
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Pray you, hold your peace; this is not the way: do you not see you 
move him? let me alone with him.
      FABIAN.
No way but gentleness; gently, gently: the fiend is rough, and will 
not be roughly used.
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Why, how now, my bawcock! how do you, chuck?
      MALVOLIO.
Sir!
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Ay, biddy, come with me. What, man! 'tis not for gravity to play 
with Satan: hang him! 
      MARIA.
Get him to say his prayers; good Sir Toby, get him to pray.
      MALVOLIO.
My prayers, minx!
      MARIA.
No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godliness.
      MALVOLIO.
Go, hang yourselves all! you are idle shallow things: I am not of 
your element: you shall know more hereafter.  [Exit.]
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Is't possible?
      FABIAN.
If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an 
improbable fiction.
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
His very genius has taken the infection of the device, man. 
      FABIAN.
Why, we shall make him mad indeed.
      MARIA.
The house will be the quieter. 
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Come, we'll have him in a dark room and bound. My niece is 
already in the belief that he's mad; we may carry it thus, for our 
pleasure and his penance, till our very pastime, tired out of breath, 
prompt us to have mercy on him:-- But see.
      FABIAN.
More matter for a May morning. 
 [Enter SIR ANDREW.]
      SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK.
Here's the challenge, read it: I warrant there's vinegar and  pepper 
in't. 
      FABIAN.
Is't so saucy?
      SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK.
Ay, is't, I warrant him: do but read.
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Give me. [reads]   "Youth, whatsoever you are, you are but a 
scurvy fellow."
      FABIAN.
Good, and valiant. 
       SIR TOBY BELCH [reads].
"Wonder not, nor admire not in your mind, why I do call you so, 
for I will show you no reason for't." 
      FABIAN.
A good note: that keeps you from the blow of the law.
      SIR TOBY BELCH [reads].
"You come to the Lady Olivia, and in my sight she uses you kindly: 
but you lie in your throat; that is not the matter I challenge you for."
      FABIAN.
Very brief, and to exceeding good sense-- [aside]  NOT!.
      SIR TOBY BELCH [reads].
"I will waylay you going home; where if it be your chance to kill 
me,"--
      FABIAN.
Good.
       SIR TOBY BELCH [reads].
"You kill me like a rogue and a villain." 
      FABIAN.
Still you keep your distance from the law: good.
       SIR TOBY BELCH [reads].
"Fare you well; and God have mercy upon one of our souls! He 
may have mercy upon mine; but my hope is better, and so look to 
yourself. Your friend, as you use him, and your sworn enemy, 
Andrew Aguecheek."  If this letter move him not, his legs cannot: 
I'll give't  him.
      MARIA.
You may have very fit occasion for't: he is now in some commerce 
with my lady, and will by and by depart.
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Go, Sir Andrew; scout me for him at the corner of the orchard: so 
soon as ever you see him, draw; and, as you draw, swear horrible; 
for it comes to pass oft, that a terrible oath, with a swaggering 
accent sharply twanged off, give manhood more approbation than 
ever proof itself would have earned him. Away! 
      SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK.
Nay, let me alone for swearing. [Exit.]
     SIR TOBY BELCH [balls up the note and tosses it].
Now will not I deliver his letter: for the behavior of the young 
gentleman gives him out to be of good capacity and breeding: his 
employment between his lord and my niece confirms no less: 
therefore this letter, being so excellently ignorant, will breed no 
terror in the youth: he will find it comes from a clodpoll. But, sir, I 
will deliver his challenge by word of mouth; set upon Aguecheek a 
notable report of valor; and drive the gentleman-- as I know his 
youth will aptly receive it-- into a most hideous opinion of his rage, 
skill, fury, and impetuosity. This will so fright them both, that they 
will kill one another by the look. 
      FABIAN.
Here he comes with your niece: give them way till he take leave, and 
presently after him.
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
I will meditate the while upon some horrid message for a challenge. 
[Exeunt SIR TOBY, FABIAN, and MARIA.]
 [Enter OLIVIA, with VIOLA.]
      OLIVIA.
I have said too much unto a heart of stone,
And laid mine honor too carelessly on't.
Here, wear this jewel for me, 'tis my picture:
Refuse it not: it has no tongue to vex you:
And, I beseech you, come again tomorrow.
What shall you ask of me that I'll deny,
That honor saved may upon asking give? 
       VIOLA.
Nothing but this,-- your true love for my master. 
      OLIVIA.
How with mine honor may I give him that
Which I have given to you?
       VIOLA.
 I will acquit you.
      OLIVIA.
Well, come again tomorrow; fare you well:
A fiend like you might bear my soul to hell. [Exit.] 
 [Enter SIR TOBY and FABIAN.]
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Gentleman, God save you!
       VIOLA.
And you, sir.
     SIR TOBY BELCH [with dueling sword].
That defense you have, betake you to't: of what nature the wrongs 
are you have done him, I know not: but your interceptor, full of 
despite, bloody as the hunter, attends you at the orchard-end: be 
prompt in your preparation; for your assailant is quick, skillful, and 
deadly.
       VIOLA.
You mistake, sir; I am sure no man has any quarrel to me: my 
remembrance is very free and clear from any image of offense done 
to any man. 
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
You'll find it otherwise, I assure you: therefore, if you hold your 
life at any price, betake you to your guard; for your opposite has in 
him what youth, strength, skill, and wrath can furnish man withal.
       VIOLA.
I pray you, sir, what is he?
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
He is knight; but he is a devil in private brawl: souls and bodies has 
he divorced three; and his incensement at this moment is so 
implacable, that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death and 
sepulcher.
  
     VIOLA.
I will return again into the house, and desire some conduct of the 
lady. I am no fighter. I have heard of some kind of men that put 
quarrels purposely on others, to taste their valor; belike this is a man 
of that quirk.
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Sir, no; his indignation derives itself out of a very competent injury: 
therefore, get you on, and give him his desire. Back you shall not to 
the house: therefore, on; for meddle you must, that's certain. 
       VIOLA.
This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you, do me this courteous 
office, as to know of the knight what my offense to him is: it is 
something of my negligence, nothing of my purpose.
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
I will do so.-- Signior Fabian, stay you by this gentleman till my 
return.  [Exit.] 
       VIOLA.
Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter? 
      FABIAN.
I know the knight is incensed against you, even to mortal combat; 
but nothing of the circumstance more.
      VIOLA.
I beseech you, what manner of man is he?
      FABIAN.
He is, indeed, sir, the most skillful, bloody, and fatal opposite that 
you could possibly have found in any part of Illyria. Will you walk 
towards him? I will make your peace with him, if I can.
       VIOLA.
I shall be much bound to you for't: I am one that had rather  go with 
sir priest than sir knight: I care not who knows so much of my 
mettle.
 [Exeunt. Enter SIR TOBY and SIR ANDREW.]
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Why, man, he's a very devil. I had a pass with him, rapier, 
scabbard, and all, and he gives me the stuck-in with such a mortal 
motion--
      SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK.
Pox on't, I'll not meddle with him.
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Ay, but he will not now be pacified: Fabian can scarce hold him 
yonder.
      SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK.
Plague on't, if I thought he had been valiant and so cunning in 
fence, I'd have seen him damn'd ere I'd have challenged  him. Let 
him let the matter slip, and I'll give him my horse.
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
I'll make the motion: stand here, make a good show on't: this shall 
end without the perdition of souls.-- [aside]  Marry, I'll ride your 
horse as well as I ride you.
 [Enter FABIAN and VIOLA.]
[to FABIAN]  I have persuaded him the youth's a devil.
      FABIAN.
He is as horribly frightened of him; and pants and looks pale, as if a 
bear were at his heels.
     SIR TOBY BELCH. [to VIOLA].
There's no remedy, sir; he will fight with you for's oath-sake: 
therefore draw, for the supportance of his vow. He protests he will 
not hurt you.
 VIOLA [aside].
Pray God defend me!
      FABIAN.
Give ground, if you see him furious. 
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Come, Sir Andrew, there's no remedy; the gentleman will, for his 
honor's sake, have one bout with you; he cannot avoid it: but he has 
promised me, as he is a  gentleman and a soldier, he will not hurt 
you. Come on, to't.
      SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK.
Pray God, he keep his oath!  [Draws.]
       VIOLA.
I do assure you, 'tis against my will.  [Draws.] 
 [Enter ANTONIO.]
      ANTONIO.
Put up your sword. If this young gentleman 
Have done offense, I take the fault on me: 
If you offend him, I for him defy you.
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
You, sir! why, what are you?
       ANTONIO [takes Viola's sword].
One, sir, that for his love dares yet do more 
Than you have heard him brag to you he will.
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for you.  [Draws a golf club.] 
      FABIAN.
O good Sir Toby, hold! here come the officers 
 SIR TOBY BELCH [to ANTONIO].
I'll be with you anon.
 VIOLA [to SIR ANDREW].
Pray, sir, put your sword up, if you please.
      SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK.
Marry, will I, sir. 
 [Enter OFFICERS.]
      FIRST OFFICER.
This is the man.
      SECOND OFFICER.
Antonio, I arrest you at the suit of Count Orsino. [Handcuffs him.]
      ANTONIO.
			You do mistake me, sir.
      FIRST OFFICER.
No, sir; I know your favor well.
Take him away: he knows I know him well.
      ANTONIO.
I must obey. [to VIOLA]  This comes with seeking you:
But there's no remedy; I shall answer it.
What will you do, now my necessity
Makes me to ask you for my purse? It grieves me
Much more for what I cannot do for you
Than what befalls myself. You stand amazed;
But be of comfort. 
      SECOND OFFICER.
Come sir, away.
      ANTONIO.
I must entreat of you some of that money.
       VIOLA.
What money, sir?
For the fair kindness you have showed me here,
And, part, being prompted by your present trouble,
I'll lend you something: my having is not much;
I'll make division of my present with you: 
Hold, there's half my money.
      ANTONIO.
				Will you deny me now?
Do not tempt my misery,
Lest that it make me so unsound a man
As to upbraid you with those kindnesses 
That I have done for you.
       VIOLA.
				I know of none;
Nor know I you by voice or any feature: 
      ANTONIO.
			O heavens themselves!
      SECOND OFFICER.
Come, sir, I pray you, go.
      ANTONIO.
Let me speak a little. This youth that you see here 
I snatched one half out of the jaws of death, 
Relieved him with such sanctity of love,
And to his image, which I thought did promise 
Most venerable worth, did I devotion.
      FIRST OFFICER.
What's that to us? The time goes by: away! 
      ANTONIO.
But, O, how vile an idol proves this god!
You have, Sebastian, done good feature shame.
In nature there's no blemish but the mind; 
None can be called deformed but the unkind:
Virtue is beauty: but the beauteous evil
Are empty trunks, o'erflourish'd by the devil.
      FIRST OFFICER.
The man grows mad: away with him!-- come, come, sir. 
      ANTONIO.
Lead me on. [Exit with OFFICERS.]
       VIOLA.
I think his words do from such passion fly,
That he believes himself: so do not I.
Prove true, imagination, O, prove true, 
That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you!
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Come hither, knight; come hither, Fabian.
       VIOLA.
He named Sebastian: I my brother know
Yet living in my glass; even such, and so, 
In favor was my brother; and he went
Still in this fashion, color, ornament,--
For him I imitate: O, if it prove,
Tempests are kind, and salt waves fresh in love! [Exit.] 
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward than a hare: his 
dishonesty appears in leaving his friend here in necessity, and 
denying him; and for his cowardship, ask Fabian.
      FABIAN.
A coward, a most devout coward, religious in it. 
      SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK.
'Slid, I'll after him again, and beat him. 
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
Do; cuff him soundly, but never draw your sword.
      SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK.
If I do not,-- [Exit.]
      FABIAN.
Come, let's see the event.
     SIR TOBY BELCH.
I dare lay any money 'twill be nothing yet. [Exeunt.]
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