Chapter: ACT THE FIFTH. SCENE I.


                 _The Street before_ OLIVIA'S _House_.

                      _Enter_ CLOWN _and_ FABIAN.

    _Fab._ Now, as thou lovest me, let me see his letter.

    _Clo._ Good Master Fabian, grant me another request.

    _Fab._ Any thing.

    _Clo._ Do not desire to see this letter.

    _Fab._ That is, to give a dog, and, in recompense, desire my dog
again.--The Duke Orsino.

                                                         [_Exit_ FABIAN.

               _Enter_ DUKE, VIOLA, _and two Gentlemen_.

    _Duke._ Belong you to the lady Olivia, friend?--I know thee well:
How dost thou, my good fellow?

    _Clo._ Truly, sir, the better for my foes, and the worse for my
friends.

    _Duke._ Just the contrary; the better for thy friends.

    _Clo._ No, sir, the worse.

    _Duke._ How can that be?

    _Clo._ Marry, sir, they praise me, and make an ass of me; now my
foes tell me plainly, I am an ass; so that by my foes, sir, I profit in
the knowledge of myself; and by my friends I am abused: so that, if your
four negatives make your two affirmatives, why, then the worse for my
friends, and the better for my foes.

    _Duke._ Why, this is excellent.

    _Clo._ By my troth, sir, no; though it please you to be one of my
friends.

    _Duke._ Thou shalt not be the worse for me; there's gold.

    _Clo._ But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I would you could
make it another.

    _Duke._ O, you give me ill counsel.

    _Clo._ Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this once, and let
your flesh and blood obey it.

    _Duke._ Well, I will be so much a sinner to be a double dealer;
there's another.

    _Clo._ _Primo_, _Secundo_,--_Tertio_, is a good play; and the old
saying is, the third pays for all.

    _Duke._ You can fool no more money out of me at this throw: if you
will let your lady know, I am here to speak with her, and bring her
along with you, it may awake my bounty further.

    _Clo._ Marry, sir, lullaby to your bounty, till I come again: As you
say, sir, let your bounty take a nap, I will awake it anon.
                                                          [_Exit_ CLOWN.

    _Vio._ Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me.

    _Duke._ That face of his I do remember well;
  Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmear'd
  As black as Vulcan, in the smoke of war:
  A bawbling vessel was he captain of,
  For shallow draught, and bulk, unprizable:
  With which such scathful grapple did he make
  With the most noble bottom of our fleet,
  That very envy, and the tongue of loss,
  Cried fame and honour on him.--

                    _Enter_ ANTONIO _and Officers_.

  What's the matter?

    _1 Off._ This, please you, sir, is that Antonio,
  That took the Phoenix, and her fraught, from Candy;
  And this is he, that did the Tiger board,
  When your young nephew Titus lost his leg:
  Here in the streets, desperate of shame, and state,
  In private brabble did we apprehend him.

    _Vio._ He did me kindness, sir; drew on my side;
  But, in conclusion, put strange speech upon me,
  I know not what 'twas, but distraction.

    _Duke._ Notable pirate! thou salt-water thief!
  What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies,
  Whom thou, in terms so bloody, and so dear,
  Hast made thine enemies?

    _Ant._ Orsino, noble sir,
  Be pleased that I shake off these names you give me;
  Antonio never yet was thief, or pirate,
  Though, I confess, on base and ground enough,
  Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither:
  That most ingrateful boy there, by your side,
  From the rude sea's enraged and foamy mouth
  Did I redeem; a wreck past hope he was:
  His life I gave him, and for his sake too,
  Did I expose myself
  Into the danger of this adverse town:
  Drew to defend him, when he was beset;
  Where being apprehended, his false cunning,
  (Not meaning to partake with me in danger,)
  Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,
  And grew a twenty-years removed thing,
  While one would wink; denied me mine own purse,
  Which I had recommended to his use
  Not half an hour before.

    _Vio._ How can this be?

    _Duke._ When came he to this town?

    _Ant._ To-day, my lord; and for three months before,
  (No interim, not a minute's vacancy,)
  Both day and night did we keep company.

    _Duke._ Here comes the countess; now heaven walks on earth.----
  But for thee; fellow, fellow, thy words are madness:
  But more of that anon.----Take him aside.

                               [ANTONIO _and Officers retire a little_.

                   _Enter_ OLIVIA _and two Servants_.

    _Oli._ What would my lord, but that he may not have,
  Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?--
  Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.

    _Vio._ Madam?

    _Duke._ Gracious Olivia,----

    _Oli._ What do you say, Cesario?

    _Vio._ My lord would speak; my duty hushes me.

    _Oli._ If it be aught to the old tune, my lord,
  It is as harsh and fulsome to mine ear,
  As howling after music.

    _Duke._ Still so cruel?

    _Oli._ Still so constant, lord.

    _Duke._ What! to perverseness? you uncivil lady,
  To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars
  My soul the faithfull'st offerings hath breathed out,
  That e'er devotion tender'd! What shall I do?

    _Oli._ Even what it please my lord, that shall become 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?
  But hear me this:
  Live you, the marble-breasted tyrant, still;
  But this your minion, whom, I see, 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.--
  Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mischief.
  I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love,
  To spite a raven's heart within a dove.

                                         [_Exeunt_ DUKE _and Gentlemen_.

    _Vio._ And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly,
  To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.                 [_Going._

    _Oli._ Where goes Cesario?

    _Vio._ After him I love,
  More than I love these eyes, more than my life;
  If I do feign, you witnesses above,
  Punish my life, for tainting of my love!

    _Oli._ Ah me, forsaken! how am I beguiled!

    _Vio._ Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong?

    _Oli._ Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long?--
  Call forth the holy father.                    [_Exeunt two Servants._

                             _Enter_ DUKE.

    _Duke._ [_To_ VIOLA.] Come away.

    _Oli._ Whither, my lord?--Cesario, husband, stay.

    _Duke._ Husband?

    _Oli._ Ay, husband: Can he that deny?

    _Duke._ Her husband, sirrah?

    _Vio._ No, my lord, not I.

    _Oli._ Fear not, Cesario, take thy fortunes up;
  Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art
  As great as that thou fear'st.

                   _Enter_ FRIAR _and two Servants_.

  O, welcome, father!--
  Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence,
  Here to unfold (though lately we intended
  To keep in darkness, what occasion now
  Reveals before 'tis ripe,) what thou dost know,
  Hath newly past between this youth and me.

    _Friar._ A contract of eternal bond of love,
  Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands,
  Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings;
  And all the ceremony
  Seal'd in my function, by my testimony:
  Since when, toward my grave
  I have travell'd but two hours.

    _Duke._ O, thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be,
  When time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy case?
  Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feet,
  Where thou and I henceforth may never meet.

    _Vio._ My lord, I do protest,--

    _Oli._ O, do not swear;
  Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear.

                                         [OLIVIA _sends away the Friar_.

    _Enter_ SIR ANDREW, _crying, with his Head broke_.

    _Sir And._ O, O,--For the love of heaven, 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 heaven, 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.

    _Sir To._ [_Without._] Holla, Sir Andrew,--where are you?

    _Sir And._ Here comes Sir Toby halting, you shall hear more: but if
he had not been in drink, he would have tickled your Toby for you.

         _Enter_ SIR TOBY, _drunk, with his Forehead bleeding_.

    _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, sot?

    _Sir And._ O, he's drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone.

    _Sir To._ Then he's a rogue, a drunken rogue,--and I hate a drunken
rogue.                                      [_Enter_ SEBASTIAN _behind_.

    _Oli._ Away with him: Who hath made this havock with them?

    _Sir And._ I'll help you, Sir Toby, because we'll be dress'd
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_ SIR ANDREW, SIR TOBY, _and Servants_.

    _Seb._ [_Advances_] I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kinsman;
  But, had it been the brother of my blood,
  I must have done no less, with wit, and safety.

             [ANTONIO, _seeing_ SEBASTIAN, _comes forward_.

  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 persons;
  A natural perspective, that is, and is not.

    _Seb._ Antonio, O my dear Antonio!
  How have the hours rack'd and tortured me.
  Since I have lost thee.

    _Ant._ Sebastian are you?

    _Seb._ Fear'st thou that, Antonio?

    _Ant._ How have you made division of yourself?--
  An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin
  Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian?

    _Seb._ [_Sees_ VIOLA.] Do I stand there? I never had a brother:
  I had a sister,
  Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd:--
  Of charity, [_To_ VIOLA.] what kin are you to me?
  What countryman? what name? what parentage?

    _Vio._ Of Messaline: Sebastian was my father;
  Such a Sebastian was my brother too,
  So went he suited to his watery tomb:
  If spirits can assume both form and suit,
  You come to fright us.

    _Seb._ Were you a woman, as the rest goes even,
  I should my tears let fall upon your cheek,
  And say--Thrice welcome, drowned Viola!

    _Vio._ If nothing lets to make us happy both,
  But this my masculine usurp'd attire,
  Away with doubt:--each other circumstance
  Of place, time, fortune, doth cohere, and jump,
  That I am Viola,--your sister Viola.                 [_They embrace._

    _Seb._ [_To_ OLIVIA.] So comes it, lady, you have been mistook.

    _Duke._ If this be so, as yet the glass seems true,
  I shall have share in this most happy wreck:--
  Boy, [_To_ VIOLA.] thou hast said to me a thousand times,
  Thou never should'st love woman like to me.

    _Vio._ And all those sayings will I over-swear;
  And all those swearings keep as true in soul,
  As doth that orbed continent the fire
  That severs day from night.

    _Duke._ Give me thy hand;
  And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds.

    _Vio._ The captain, that did bring me first on shore,
  Hath my maid's garments: he, upon some action,
  Is now in durance; at Malvolio's suit,
  A gentleman, and follower of my lady's.

    _Oli._ He shall enlarge him:--Fetch Malvolio hither:--
  And yet, alas, now I remember me,
  They say, poor gentleman, he's much distract.

               _Enter_ CLOWN, _with a Letter, and_ FABIAN.

  How does Malvolio, sirrah?

    _Clo._ Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the stave's end, as well
as a man in his case may do: he has here writ a letter to you: I
should have given it you to-day morning; but as a madman's epistles
are no gospels, so it skills not much, when they are deliver'd.

    _Oli._ Open it, and read it.

    _Clo._ Look then to be well edified, when the fool delivers the
madman: [_Reads._] _By the Lord, madam_,--

    _Oli._ How now! art thou mad?

    _Clo._ No, madam, I do but read madness.

    _Oli._ [_To_ FABIAN.] Read it you, sirrah.

    _Fab._ [READS.] _By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and the world
shall know it: though you have put me into darkness, and given your
drunken cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my senses as
well as your ladyship. I have your own letter that induced me to the
semblance I put on; with the which I doubt not but to do myself much
right, or you much shame. Think of me as you please. I leave my duty
a little unthought of, and speak out of my injury._
                                           _The madly-used_ MALVOLIO.

    _Oli._ Did he write this?

    _Clo._ Ay, madam.

    _Duke._ This savours not much of distraction.

    _Oli._ See him deliver'd, Fabian; bring him hither.

                                                         [_Exit_ FABIAN.

  My lord, so please you, these things further thought on,
  To think me as well a sister as a wife,
  One day shall crown the alliance on't, so please you,
  Here at my house.

    _Duke._ Madam, I am most apt to embrace your offer.--
  Your master quits you; [_To_ VIOLA.] and, for your service done him,
  Here is my hand; you shall from this time be
  Your master's mistress.

             _Enter_ MALVOLIO, _with a Letter, and_ FABIAN.

    _Duke._ Is this the madman?

    _Oli._ Ay, my lord, this same:
  How now, Malvolio?

    _Mal._ Madam, you have done me wrong,
  Notorious wrong.

    _Oli._ Have I, Malvolio? no.

    _Mal._ Lady, you have. Pray you peruse that
        letter:                            [_Gives_ OLIVIA _the Letter_.
  You must not now deny it is your hand;--
  (Write from it, if you can, in hand, or phrase;)--
  Or, say, 'tis not your seal, nor your invention.

    _Oli._ Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing;
  Though, I confess, much like the character:
  But, out of question, 'tis Maria's hand:--
  And now I do bethink me, it was she
  First told me, thou wast mad:--
  Pr'ythee, be content:
  This practice hath most shrewdly pass'd upon thee:
  But, when we know the grounds and authors of it,
  Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge
  Of thine own cause.

    _Fab._ Good madam, hear me speak:
  I do confess, Sir Toby, and myself,
  Set this device against Malvolio here,
  Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts
  We had conceived against him: Maria writ
  The letter, at Sir Toby's great importance;
  In recompense whereof, he hath married her:
  How with a sportful malice it was follow'd,
  May rather pluck on laughter than revenge;
  If that the injuries be justly weigh'd,
  That have on both sides pass'd.

    _Oli._ Alas, poor fool! how have they baffled thee!

    _Fab._ Malvolio!--

    _Clo._ Why,--_Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some
have greatness thrust upon them_--I was one, sir, in this interlude;
one Sir Topas, sir:--_By the Lord fool, I am not mad_:--But do you
remember? _Madam, why laugh you at such a barren rascal? an you
smile not, he's gagg'd_:--And thus the whirligig of time brings in
his revenges.--Ha, ha, ha!

    _Fab._ Ha, ha, ha!--

    _Mal._ I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you.

                                                       [_Exit_ MALVOLIO.

    _Oli._ He hath been most notoriously abused.
  Pursue him, and entreat him to a peace.

                                                         [_Exit_ FABIAN.

    _Duke._ He hath not told us of the captain yet;
  When that is known, and golden time convents,
  A solemn combination shall be made
  Of our dear souls:--Meantime, sweet sister,
  We will not part from hence--Go, officers;
  We do discharge you of your prisoner.              [_Exeunt Officers._
  Antonio, thou hast well deserved our thanks:
  Thy kind protection of Cesario's person,
  (Although thou knew'st not then for whom thou fought'st,)
  Merits our favour: Henceforth, be forgotten
  All cause of anger: Thou hast a noble spirit,
  And as Sebastian's friend be ever near him.--
  Cesario, come;
  For so you shall be, while you are a man;
  But, when in other habits you are seen,
  Orsino's mistress, and his fancy's queen.

                         _The Clown sings._

      _When that I was and a little tiny boy,
        With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
      A foolish thing was but a toy;
        For the rain it raineth every day._

      _But when I came to man's estate,
        With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
      'Gainst knave and thief men shut their gate;
        For the rain it raineth every day._

      _But when I came, alas! to wive,
        With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
      By swaggering could I never thrive;
        For the rain it raineth every day._

      _But when I came unto my bed,
        With hey, ho, the wind, and the rain,
      With toss pots still had drunken head;
        For the rain it raineth every day._

      _A great while ago the world begun,
        With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
      But that's all one, our play is done,
        And we'll strive to please you every day._
                                                                [Exeunt.


                                THE END.





                           Transcriber Notes:

Passages in italics were indicated by _underscores_.

Small caps were replaced with ALL CAPS.

Throughout the document, the oe ligature was replaced with "oe".

The character tags were italizied, even when before italizied text.

Throughout the dialogues, there were words used to mimic accents of
the speakers. Those words were retained as-is.

Errors and inconsistencies in punctuations and spelling were not
corrected unless otherwise noted.

On page 21, a comma after Vio was replaced with a period.

 Fabian asks Feste for the letter Malvolio has written; Feste refuses this request, and then Orsino, with Viola, finds them. Feste delays him with a bit of jesting, and gets some money out of him; Orsino asks him to find Olivia, and Feste goes to find her, with the promise of money for the task. Viola points out Antonio, who is being brought to them by officers; Orsino remembers Antonio from a sea-battle, and Viola tries to defend Antonio from charges of crime by noting his kindness to her. Antonio claims that he rescued Viola from drowning, and that they have been in each other's company ever since; Orsino says that this is nonsense, since Viola has been serving him the whole time. Then, Olivia approaches them, still denying Orsino's love, while admitting her affection for Viola. Orsino becomes angry at Viola, rather than Olivia, because of these developments; he begins to suspect Viola of double-dealings, and out of his anger, he admits his love for Viola, still disguised as a boy. Viola, for the first time, declares her love for Orsino, much to Olivia's consternation; Olivia counters this declaration by divulging that she was married, to Viola as Cesario, she thinks. A priest confirms Olivia's account, and Orsino becomes even more angry at Viola. Sir Andrew and Sir Toby enter, charging Viola with fighting them and injuring them; Viola is again shocked, and confused. Suddenly, Sebastian dashes in, apologizing for injuring Sir Toby; he expresses his happiness at seeing Antonio again, and acknowledges Olivia as his wife. Viola and Sebastian see each other again, and there is a joyful reunion. Sebastian reveals to Olivia that she married him, rather than his sister in disguise; Orsino swears that he loves Viola, and will marry her. Then, the action turns to Malvolio's condition; his letter is read, and his condition explained. Malvolio is upset at his mistreatment, and Olivia attempts to smooth things over; Fabian explains his, Sir Toby's, and Maria's part in Malvolio's torment. Then, Feste inflames Malvolio's anger, and he leaves, in a huff. Orsino pronounces that happiness will stay with all of them, and that his marriage to Viola will soon be performed. Feste closes the play with a song about "the wind and the rain," a reminder that even great happiness is not safe from life's storms.

