Twelfth Night; Or, What You Will

VIOLA. I left no ring with her; what means this lady?
Fortune forbid my outside have not charm'd her!
She made good view of me; indeed, so much
That methought her eyes had lost her tongue,
For she did speak in starts distractedly.
She loves me, sure: the cunning of her passion
Invites me in this churlish messenger.
None of my lord's ring! Why, he sent her none.
I am the man. If it be so- as 'tis-
Poor lady, she were better love a dream.
Disguise, I see thou art a wickedness
Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.
How easy is it for the proper-false
In women's waxen hearts to set their forms!
Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we!
For such as we are made of, such we be.
How will this fadge? My master loves her dearly,
And I, poor monster, fond as much on him;
And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me.
What will become of this? As I am man,
My state is desperate for my master's love;
As I am woman- now alas the day! -
What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe!
O Time, thou must untangle this, not I;
It is too hard a knot for me t' untie! Exit

SCENE III. OLIVIA'S house

Enter SIR TOBY and SIR ANDREW

SIR TOBY. Approach, Sir Andrew. Not to be abed after midnight is to
be up betimes; and 'diluculo surgere' thou know'st-

AGUECHEEK. Nay, by my troth, I know not; but I know to be up late
is to be up late.

SIR TOBY. A false conclusion! I hate it as an unfill'd can. To be
up after midnight and to go to bed then is early; so that to go
to bed after midnight is to go to bed betimes. Does not our lives
consist of the four elements?

AGUECHEEK. Faith, so they say; but I think it rather consists of
eating and drinking.

SIR TOBY. Th'art a scholar; let us therefore eat and drink.
Marian, I say! a stoup of wine.

Enter CLOWN

AGUECHEEK. Here comes the fool, i' faith.

CLOWN. How now, my hearts! Did you never see the picture of 'we three'?

SIR TOBY. Welcome, ass. Now let's have a catch.

AGUECHEEK. By my troth, the fool has an excellent breast. I had
rather than forty shillings I had such a leg, and so sweet a
breath to sing, as the fool has. In sooth, thou wast in very
gracious fooling last night, when thou spok'st of Pigrogromitus,
of the Vapians passing the equinoctial of Queubus; 'twas very
good, i' faith. I sent thee sixpence for thy leman; hadst it?

CLOWN. I did impeticos thy gratillity; for Malvolio's nose is no
whipstock. My lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no
bottle-ale houses.

AGUECHEEK. Excellent! Why, this is the best fooling, when all is
done. Now, a song.

SIR TOBY. Come on, there is sixpence for you. Let's have a song.

AGUECHEEK. There's a testril of me too; if one knight give a-

CLOWN. Would you have a love-song, or a song of good life?

SIR TOBY. A love-song, a love-song.

AGUECHEEK. Ay, ay; I care not for good life.

CLOWN sings

O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O, stay and hear; your true love's coming,
That can sing both high and low.
Trip no further, pretty sweeting;
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
Every wise man's son doth know.

AGUECHEEK. Excellent good, i' faith!

SIR TOBY. Good, good!

CLOWN sings

What is love? 'Tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What's to come is still unsure.
In delay there lies no plenty,
Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty;
Youth's a stuff will not endure.