Twelfth Night By William Shakespeare Act V: Scene 1

[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.

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

VIOLA.
Madam!

DUKE.
Gracious Olivia, —

OLIVIA.
What do you say, Cesario? Good my lord, —

VIOLA.
My lord would speak; my duty hushes me.

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

DUKE.
Still so cruel?

OLIVIA.
Still so constant, lord.

DUKE.
What, to perverseness? you uncivil lady,
To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars
My soul the faithfull'st off'rings have breath'd out
That e'er devotion tender'd! What shall I do?

OLIVIA.
Even what it please my lord that shall become him.

DUKE.
Why should I not, had I the heart to do it,
Like to th' 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.
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.

VIOLA.
And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly,
To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.

OLIVIA.
Where goes Cesario?

VIOLA.
After him I love
More than I love these eyes, more than my life,
More, by all mores, than ere I shall love wife.
If I do feign, you witnesses above,
Punish my life for tainting of my love!

OLIVIA.
Ay me, detested! how am I beguil'd!

VIOLA.
Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong?

OLIVIA.
Hast thou forgot thyself? is it so long?
Call forth the holy father.

DUKE.
Come, away!

OLIVIA.
Whither, my lord? Cesario, husband, stay.

DUKE.
Husband!

OLIVIA.
Ay, husband! can he that deny?

DUKE.
Her husband, sirrah!

VIOLA.
No, my lord, not I.

OLIVIA.
Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear
That makes thee strangle thy propriety.
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 PRIEST.]

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 't is ripe, what thou dost know
Hath newly pass'd between this youth and me.

PRIEST.
A contract of eternal bond of love,
Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands,
Attested by the holy close of lips,
Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings;
And all the ceremony of this compact
Seal'd in my function, by my testimony;
Since when, my watch hath told me, 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?
Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow
That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow?
Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feet
Where thou and I henceforth may never meet.

VIOLA.
My lord, I do protest, —

OLIVIA.
O, do not swear!
Hold little faith, though thou has too much fear.

[Enter SIR ANDREW.]

SIR ANDREW.
For the love of God, a surgeon! Send one presently to Sir Toby.

OLIVIA.
What 's the matter?

SIR ANDREW.
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.

OLIVIA.
Who has done this, Sir Andrew?

SIR ANDREW.
The count's gentleman, one Cesario; we took him for a coward, but
he 's the very devil incardinate.

DUKE.
My gentleman Cesario?

SIR ANDREW.
'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.

VIOLA.
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 ANDREW.
If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me; I think you set
nothing by a bloody coxcomb.

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