Shakespeare's First Folio Part 228
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Come away, come away death, And in sad cypresse let me be laide.
Fye away, fie away breath, I am slaine by a faire cruell maide: My shrowd of white, stuck all with Ew, O prepare it.
My part of death no one so true did share it.
Not a flower, not a flower sweete On my blacke coffin, let there be strewne: Not a friend, not a friend greet My poore corpes, where my bones shall be throwne: A thousand thousand sighes to saue, lay me o where Sad true louer neuer find my graue, to weepe there
Du. There's for thy paines
Clo. No paines sir, I take pleasure in singing sir
Du. Ile pay thy pleasure then
Clo. Truely sir, and pleasure will be paide one time, or another
Du. Giue me now leaue, to leaue thee
Clo. Now the melancholly G.o.d protect thee, and the Tailor make thy doublet of changeable Taffata, for thy minde is a very Opall. I would haue men of such constancie put to Sea, that their businesse might be euery thing, and their intent euerie where, for that's it, that alwayes makes a good voyage of nothing. Farewell.
Exit
Du. Let all the rest giue place: Once more Cesario, Get thee to yond same soueraigne crueltie: Tell her my loue, more n.o.ble then the world Prizes not quant.i.tie of dirtie lands, The parts that fortune hath bestow'd vpon her: Tell her I hold as giddily as Fortune: But 'tis that miracle, and Queene of Iems That nature prankes her in, attracts my soule
Vio. But if she cannot loue you sir
Du. It cannot be so answer'd
Vio. Sooth but you must.
Say that some Lady, as perhappes there is, Hath for your loue as great a pang of heart As you haue for Oliuia: you cannot loue her: You tel her so: Must she not then be answer'd?
Du. There is no womans sides Can bide the beating of so strong a pa.s.sion, As loue doth giue my heart: no womans heart So bigge, to hold so much, they lacke retention.
Alas, their loue may be call'd appet.i.te, No motion of the Liuer, but the Pallat, That suffer surfet, cloyment, and reuolt, But mine is all as hungry as the Sea, And can digest as much, make no compare Betweene that loue a woman can beare me, And that I owe Oliuia
Vio. I but I know
Du. What dost thou knowe?
Vio. Too well what loue women to men may owe: In faith they are as true of heart, as we.
My Father had a daughter lou'd a man As it might be perhaps, were I a woman I should your Lords.h.i.+p
Du. And what's her history?
Vio. A blanke my Lord: she neuer told her loue, But let concealment like a worme i'th budde Feede on her damaske cheeke: she pin'd in thought, And with a greene and yellow melancholly, She sate like Patience on a Monument, Smiling at greefe. Was not this loue indeede?
We men may say more, sweare more, but indeed Our shewes are more then will: for still we proue Much in our vowes, but little in our loue
Du. But di'de thy sister of her loue my Boy?
Vio. I am all the daughters of my Fathers house, And all the brothers too: and yet I know not.
Sir, shall I to this Lady?
Du. I that's the Theame, To her in haste: giue her this Iewell: say, My loue can giue no place, bide no denay.
Exeunt.
Scena Quinta.
Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian.
To. Come thy wayes Signior Fabian
Fab. Nay Ile come: if I loose a scruple of this sport, let me be boyl'd to death with Melancholly
To. Wouldst thou not be glad to haue the n.i.g.g.ardly Rascally sheepe-biter, come by some notable shame?
Fa. I would exult man: you know he brought me out o' fauour with my Lady, about a Beare-baiting heere
To. To anger him wee'l haue the Beare againe, and we will foole him blacke and blew, shall we not sir Andrew?
An. And we do not, it is pittie of our liues.
Enter Maria.
To. Heere comes the little villaine: How now my Mettle of India?
Mar. Get ye all three into the box tree: Maluolio's comming downe this walke, he has beene yonder i'the Sunne practising behauiour to his own shadow this halfe houre: obserue him for the loue of Mockerie: for I know this Letter wil make a contemplatiue Ideot of him. Close in the name of ieasting, lye thou there: for heere comes the Trowt, that must be caught with tickling.
Exit
Enter Maluolio.
Mal. 'Tis but Fortune, all is fortune. Maria once told me she did affect me, and I haue heard her self come thus neere, that should shee fancie, it should bee one of my complection. Besides she vses me with a more exalted respect, then any one else that followes her. What should I thinke on't?
To. Heere's an ouer-weening rogue
Fa. Oh peace: Contemplation makes a rare Turkey c.o.c.ke of him, how he iets vnder his aduanc'd plumes
And. Slight I could so beate the Rogue
To. Peace I say
Mal. To be Count Maluolio
To. Ah Rogue
An. Pistoll him, pistoll him
To. Peace, peace
Mal. There is example for't: The Lady of the Strachy, married the yeoman of the wardrobe
An. Fie on him Iezabel
Fa. O peace, now he's deepely in: looke how imagination blowes him
Mal. Hauing beene three moneths married to her, sitting in my state
To. O for a stone-bow to hit him in the eye
Mal. Calling my Officers about me, in my branch'd Veluet gowne: hauing come from a day bedde, where I haue left Oliuia sleeping
To. Fire and Brimstone
Shakespeare's First Folio Part 228
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Shakespeare's First Folio Part 228 summary
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