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

3    No, sir, I live by the church.

4    Art thou a churchman?

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

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

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

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

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

17   Why, man?

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

21   Thy reason, man?

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

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

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

29   Art not thou the Lady Olivia's fool?

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

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

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

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

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

43   By my troth, I'll tell thee, I am almost sick for
44   one;
Aside
45   though I would not have it grow on my chin. Is thy
46   lady within?

47   Would not a pair of these have bred, sir?

48   Yes, being kept together and put to use.

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

51   I understand you, sir; 'tis well begged.

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

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

66   Save you, gentleman.

67   And you, sir.

68   Dieu vous garde, monsieur.

69   Et vous aussi; votre serviteur.

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

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

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

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

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

78   I mean, to go, sir, to enter.

79   I will answer you with gait and entrance. But we
80   are prevented.
Enter OLIVIA and MARIA
81   Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain
82   odours on you!

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

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

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

88   Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing.
Exeunt SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and MARIA
89   Give me your hand, sir.

90   My duty, madam, and most humble service.

91   What is your name?

92   Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess.

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

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

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

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

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

107  Dear lady,--

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

120  I pity you.

121  That's a degree to love.

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

124  Why, then, methinks 'tis time to smile again.
125  O, world, how apt the poor are to be proud!
126  If one should be a prey, how much the better
127  To fall before the lion than the wolf!
Clock strikes
128  The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.
129  Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you:
130  And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest,
131  Your were is alike to reap a proper man:
132  There lies your way, due west.

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

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

138  That you do think you are not what you are.

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

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

141  I would you were as I would have you be!

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

144  O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
145  In the contempt and anger of his lip!
146  A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon
147  Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon.
148  Cesario, by the roses of the spring,
149  By maidhood, honour, truth and every thing,
150  I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride,
151  Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide.
152  Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,
153  For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause,
154  But rather reason thus with reason fetter,
155  Love sought is good, but given unsought better.

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

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