Twelfth Night

man. Sir Toby What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight? Sir Andrew Faith, I can cut a caper. Sir Toby And I can cut the mutton to’t. Sir Andrew And I think I have the back-trick simply as strong as any man in Illyria. Sir Toby Wherefore are these things hid? wherefore have these gifts a curtain before ’em? are they like to take dust, like Mistress Mall’s picture? why dost thou not go to church in a galliard and come home in a coranto? My very walk should be a jig; I would not so much as make water but in a sink-a-pace. What dost thou mean? Is it a world to hide virtues in? I did think, by the excellent constitution of thy leg, it was formed under the star of a galliard. Sir Andrew Ay, ’tis strong, and it does indifferent well in a flame-coloured stock. Shall we set about some revels? Sir Toby What shall we do else? were we not born under Taurus? Sir Andrew Taurus! That’s sides and heart. Sir Toby No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let me see the caper; ha! higher: ha, ha! excellent! Exeunt.

Scene IV

The Duke’s palace.

	Enter Valentine and Viola in man’s attire.
Valentine	If the duke continue these favours towards you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanced: he hath known you but three days, and already you are no stranger.
Viola	You either fear his humour or my negligence, that you call in question the continuance of his love: is he inconstant, sir, in his favours?
Valentine	No, believe me.
Viola	I thank you. Here comes the count.
	Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants.
Duke	Who saw Cesario, ho?
Viola	On your attendance, my lord; here.
Duke	Stand you a while aloof, Cesario, Thou know’st no less but all; I have unclasp’d To thee the book even of my secret soul: Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her; Be not denied access, stand at her doors, And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow Till thou have audience.
Viola	Sure, my noble lord, If she be so abandon’d to her sorrow As it is spoke, she never will admit me.
Duke	Be clamorous and leap all civil bounds Rather than make unprofited return.
Viola	Say I do speak with her, my lord, what then?
Duke	O, then unfold the passion of my love, Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith: It shall become thee well to act my woes; She will attend it better in thy youth Than in a nuncio’s of more grave aspect.
Viola	I think not so, my lord.
Duke	Dear lad, believe it; For they shall yet belie thy happy years, That say thou art a man: Diana’s lip Is not more smooth and rubious; thy small pipe Is as the maiden’s organ, shrill and sound, And all is semblative a woman’s part. I know thy constellation is right apt For this affair. Some four or five attend him; All, if you will; for I myself am best When least in company. Prosper well in this, And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord, To call his fortunes thine.
Viola	I’ll do my best To woo your lady: aside yet, a barful strife! Whoe’er I woo, myself would be his wife. Exeunt.

Scene V

Olivia’s house.

	Enter Maria and Clown.
Maria	Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will not open my lips so wide as a bristle may enter in way of thy excuse: my lady will hang thee for thy absence.
Clown	Let her hang me: he that is well hanged in this world needs to fear no colours.
Maria	Make that good.
Clown	He shall see none to fear.
Maria	A good lenten answer: I can tell thee where that saying was born, of “I fear no colours.”
Clown	Where, good Mistress Mary?
Maria	In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in your foolery.
Clown	Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those that are fools, let them use their talents.
Maria	Yet you will be hanged for being so long absent; or, to be turned away, is not that as good as a hanging to you?
Clown	Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage; and, for turning away, let summer bear it out.
Maria	You are resolute, then?
Clown	Not so, neither; but I am resolved on two points.
Maria	That if one break, the other will hold; or, if both break, your gaskins fall.
Clown	Apt, in good faith; very apt. Well, go thy way; if Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a piece of Eve’s flesh as any in Illyria.
Maria	Peace, you rogue, no more o’ that. Here comes my lady: make your excuse wisely, you were best. Exit.
Clown	Wit, an’t be thy will, put me into good fooling! Those wits, that think they have thee, do very oft prove fools; and I, that am sure I lack thee, may pass for a wise man: for what says Quinapalus? “Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit.”
	Enter Lady Olivia with Malvolio.
	God bless thee, lady!
Olivia	Take the fool away.
Clown	Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady.
Olivia	Go to, you’re a dry fool; I’ll no more of you: besides, you grow dishonest.
Clown	Two faults, madonna, that drink and good counsel will amend: for give the dry fool drink, then is the fool not dry: bid the dishonest man mend himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if he cannot, let the botcher mend him. Any thing that’s mended is but patched: virtue that transgresses is but patched with sin; and sin that amends is but patched with virtue. If that this simple syllogism will serve, so; if it will not, what remedy? As there is no true cuckold but calamity, so beauty’s a flower. The lady bade take away the fool; therefore, I say again, take her away.
Olivia	Sir, I bade them take away you.
Clown	Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, cucullus non facit monachum; that’s as much to say as I wear not motley in my brain. Good madonna,