Twelfth Night; or, What You Will

My soul the faithfull'st offerings hath breathed out,
That e'er devotion tender'd! What shall I do?

Oli. Even what it please my lord, that shall become him.

Duke. Why should I not, had I the heart to do it,
Like to the Egyptian thief, at point of death,
Kill what I love?
But hear me this:
Live you, the marble-breasted tyrant, still;
But this your minion, whom, I see, 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.

[Exeunt Duke and Gentlemen.

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

[Going.

Oli. Where goes Cesario?

Vio. After him I love,
More than I love these eyes, more than my life;
If I do feign, you witnesses above,
Punish my life, for tainting of my love!

Oli. Ah me, forsaken! how am I beguiled!

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

Oli. Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long? —
Call forth the holy father.

[Exeunt two Servants.

Enter Duke.

Duke. [To Viola.] Come away.

Oli. Whither, my lord? – Cesario, husband, stay.

Duke. Husband?

Oli. Ay, husband: Can he that deny?

Duke. Her husband, sirrah?

Vio. No, my lord, not I.

Oli. 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 Friar and two Servants.

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 'tis ripe,) what thou dost know,
Hath newly past between this youth and me.

Friar. A contract of eternal bond of love,
Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands,
Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings;
And all the ceremony
Seal'd in my function, by my testimony:
Since when, 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?
Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feet,
Where thou and I henceforth may never meet.
Vio. My lord, I do protest, —
Oli. O, do not swear;
Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear.

[Olivia sends away the Friar.

Enter Sir Andrew, crying, with his Head broke.

Sir And. O, O, – For the love of heaven, a surgeon; send one presently to Sir Toby.

Oli. What's the matter?

Sir And. He has broke my head across, and has given Sir Toby a bloody coxcomb too: for the love of heaven, your help: I had rather than forty pound I were at home.

Oli. Who has done this, Sir Andrew?

Sir And. The count's gentleman, one Cesario: We took him for a coward, but he's the very devil incardinate.

Duke. My gentleman, Cesario?