In your denial I would find no sense, I would not understand it. Oli. Why, what would you? Vio. Make me a willow cabin at your gate, And call upon my soul within the house; Write loyal cantons of contemned love, And sing them loud even in the dead of night; Holla your name to the reverberate hills, And make the babbling gossip of the air Cry out, Olivia! O, you should not rest Between the elements of air and earth, But you should pity me. Oli. You might do much: What is your parentage? Vio. Above my fortunes, yet my state is well: I am a gentleman. Oli. I cannot love him: Get you to your lord; let him send no more; Unless, perchance, you come to me again, To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well: I thank you for your pains: spend this for me. Vio. I am no fee'd post, lady; keep your purse; My master, not myself, lacks recompense. Love make his heart of flint, that you shall love; And let your fervour, like my master's, be Plac'd in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty. [Erit. Oli. What is your parentage? Above my fortunes, yet my state is well: I am a gentleman. -I'll be sworn thou art; Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit, Do give thee five-fold blazon:-Not too fast :soft! soft! Unless the master were the man.-How now? Write loyal cantons] for cantos, Methinks, I feel this youth's perfections, To creep Mal. Re-enter MALVOLIO. Here, madam, at your service. Oli. Run after that same peevish messenger, The county's man: he left this ring behind him, Would I, or not; tell him, I'll none of it. Desire him not to flatter with his lord, Nor hold him up with hopes; I am not for him: If that the youth will come this way to-morrow, I'll give him reasons for't. Hie thee, Malvolio. Mal. Madam, I will. [Exit. Oli. I do I know not what: and fear to find Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind. Fate, shew thy force: Ourselves we do not owe;' What is decreed, must be; and be this so! [Erit. ACT II. SCENE I. The Sca-coast. Enter ANTONIO and SEBASTIAN. Ant. Will you stay no longer? nor will you not, that I go with you? Seb. By your patience, no: my stars shine darkly over me; the malignancy of my fate might, per 3 The county's man :] County for count. 4 Mine eye, &c.] I think the meaning is, I fear that my eyes will seduce my understanding; that I am indulging a passion for this beautiful youth, which my reason cannot approve. MALONE. 5 Ourselves we do not owe;] i. e. we are not our own masters. We cannot govern ourselves. haps, distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of you your leave, that I may bear my evils alone: It were a bad recompense for your love, to lay any of them on you. Ant. Let me yet know of you, whither you are bound. Seb. No, 'sooth, sir; my determinate voyage is mere extravagancy. But I perceive in you so excellent a touch of modesty, that you will not extort from me what I am willing to keep in; therefore it charges me in manners the rather to express myself. You must know of me then, Antonio, my name is Sebastian, which I called Rodorigo; my father was that Sebastian of Messaline, whom I know, you have heard of: he left behind him, myself, and a sister, both born in an hour. If the heavens had been pleased, 'would we had so ended! but, you, sir, altered that; for, some hour before you took me from the breach of the sea, was my sister drowned. Ant. Alas, the day! 8 Seb. A lady, sir, though it was said she much resembled me, was yet of many accounted beautiful but, though I could not, with such estimable wonder, overfar believe that, yet thus far I will boldly publish her, she bore a mind that envy could not but call fair: she is drowned already, sir, with salt water, though I seem to drown her remembrance again with more. Ant. Pardon me, sir, your bad entertainment. Seb. O, good Antonio, forgive me your trouble. Ant. If you will not murder me for my love, let me be your servant. ―to express myself.] That is, to reveal myself. the breach of the sea,] i. e. what we now call the breaking of the sea. with such estimable wonder,] wonder and esteem. Seb. If you will not undo what you have done, that is, kill him whom you have recovered, desire it not. Fare ye well at once: my bosom is full of kindness; and I am yet so near the manners of my mother, that upon the least occasion more, mine eyes will tell tales of me. I am bound to the count Orsino's court: farewell. [Exit. Ant. The gentleness of all the gods go with thee! I have many enemies in Orsino's court, That danger shall seem sport, and I will go. [Exit. Mal. Were not you even now with the countess Olivia? Vio. Even now, sir; on a moderate pace I have since arrived but hither. Mal. She returns this ring to you, sir; you might have saved me my pains, to have taken it away yourself. She adds moreover, that you should put your lord into a desperate assurance she will none of him: And one thing more; that you be never so hardy to come again in his affairs, unless it be to report your lord's taking of this. Receive it so. Vio. She took the ring of me; I'll none of it. Mal. Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her; and her will is, it should be so returned: if it be worth stooping for, there it lies in your eye; if not, be it his that finds it. [Exit. Vio. I left no ring with her: What means this lady? Fortune forbid, my outside have not charm'd her! For she did speak in starts distractedly. She loves me, sure; the cunning of her passion In women's waxen hearts to set their forms!1 For, such as we are made of, such we be. What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe? [Exit. the pregnant enemy-] i. e. enemy of mankind. How easy is it for the proper-false In women's waxen hearts to set their forms!] How easy is it, for those who are at once proper (i. e. fair in their appearance) and false (i. e. deceitful) to make an impression on the easy hearts of women? * How will this fadge?] To fadge, is to suit, to fit. |