Vio. How can this be?
  Du. When came he to this Towne?
  Ant. To day my Lord: and for three months before,
No intrim, not a minutes vacancie,
Both day and night did we keepe companie.
Enter Oliuia and attendants.

  Du. Heere comes the Countesse, now heauen walkes
on earth:
But for thee fellow, fellow thy words are madnesse,
Three monthes this youth hath tended vpon mee,
But more of that anon. Take him aside

   Ol. What would my Lord, but that he may not haue,
Wherein Oliuia may seeme seruiceable?
Cesario, you do not keepe promise with me

   Vio. Madam:
  Du. Gracious Oliuia

   Ol. What do you say Cesario? Good my Lord

   Vio. My Lord would speake, my dutie hushes me

   Ol. If it be ought to the old tune my Lord,
It is as fat and fulsome to mine eare
As howling after Musicke

   Du. Still so cruell?
  Ol. Still so constant Lord

   Du. What to peruersenesse? you vnciuill Ladie
To whose ingrate, and vnauspicious Altars
My soule the faithfull'st offrings haue breath'd out
That ere deuotion tender'd. What shall I do?
  Ol. Euen what it please my Lord, that shal becom him
  Du. Why should I not, (had I the heart to do it)
Like to th' Egyptian theefe, at point of death
Kill what I loue: (a sauage iealousie,
That sometime sauours nobly) but heare me this:
Since you to non-regardance cast my faith,
And that I partly know the instrument
That screwes me from my true place in your fauour:
Liue you the Marble-brested Tirant still.
But this your Minion, whom I know you loue,
And whom, by heauen I sweare, I tender deerely,
Him will I teare out of that cruell eye,
Where he sits crowned in his masters spight.
Come boy with me, my thoughts are ripe in mischiefe:
Ile sacrifice the Lambe that I do loue,
To spight a Rauens heart within a Doue

   Vio. And I most iocund, apt, and willinglie,
To do you rest, a thousand deaths would dye

   Ol. Where goes Cesario?
  Vio. After him I loue,
More then I loue these eyes, more then my life,
More by all mores, then ere I shall loue wife.
If I do feigne, you witnesses aboue
Punish my life, for tainting of my loue

   Ol. Aye me detested, how am I beguil'd?
  Vio. Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong?
  Ol. Hast thou forgot thy selfe? Is it so long?
Call forth the holy Father

   Du. Come, away

   Ol. Whether my Lord? Cesario, Husband, stay

   Du. Husband?
  Ol. I Husband. Can he that deny?
  Du. Her husband, sirrah?
  Vio. No my Lord, not I

   Ol. Alas, it is the basenesse of thy feare,
That makes thee strangle thy propriety:
Feare not Cesario, take thy fortunes vp,
Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art
As great as that thou fear'st.
Enter Priest.

O welcome Father:
Father, I charge thee by thy reuerence
Heere to vnfold, though lately we intended
To keepe in darkenesse, what occasion now
Reueales before 'tis ripe: what thou dost know
Hath newly past, betweene this youth, and me

   Priest. A Contract of eternall bond of loue,
Confirm'd by mutuall ioynder of your hands,
Attested by the holy close of lippes,
Strengthned by enterchangement of your rings,
And all the Ceremonie of this compact
Seal'd in my function, by my testimony:
Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my graue
I haue trauail'd but two houres

   Du. O thou dissembling Cub: what wilt thou be
When time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy case?
Or will not else thy craft so quickely grow,
That thine owne trip shall be thine ouerthrow:
Farewell, and take her, but direct thy feete,
Where thou, and I (henceforth) may neuer meet

   Vio. My Lord, I do protest

   Ol. O do not sweare,
Hold little faith, though thou hast too much feare.
Enter Sir Andrew.

  And. For the loue of God a Surgeon, send one presently
to sir Toby

   Ol. What's the matter?
  And. H'as broke my head acrosse, and has giuen Sir
  Toby a bloody Coxcombe too: for the loue of God your
helpe, I had rather then forty pound I were at home

   Ol. Who has done this sir Andrew?
  And. The Counts Gentleman, one Cesario: we tooke
him for a Coward, but hee's the verie diuell, incardinate

   Du. My Gentleman Cesario?
  And. Odd's lifelings heere he is: you broke my head
for nothing, and that that I did, I was set on to do't by sir
Toby

   Vio. Why do you speake to me, I neuer hurt you:
You drew your sword vpon me without cause,
But I bespake you faire, and hurt you not.
Enter Toby and Clowne.

  And. If a bloody coxcombe be a hurt, you haue hurt
me: I thinke you set nothing by a bloody Coxecombe.
Heere comes sir Toby halting, you shall heare more: but if
he had not beene in drinke, hee would haue tickel'd you
other gates then he did

   Du. How now Gentleman? how ist with you?
  To. That's all one, has hurt me, and there's th' end on't:
Sot, didst see Dicke Surgeon, sot?
  Clo. O he's drunke sir Toby an houre agone: his eyes
were set at eight i'th morning

   To. Then he's a Rogue, and a passy measures pauyn: I
hate a drunken rogue

   Ol. Away with him? Who hath made this hauocke
with them?
  And. Ile helpe you sir Toby, because we'll be drest together

   To. Will you helpe an Asse-head, and a coxcombe, &
a knaue: a thin fac'd knaue, a gull?
  Ol. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd too.
Enter Sebastian.

  Seb. I am sorry Madam I haue hurt your kinsman:
But had it beene the brother of my blood,
I must haue done no lesse with wit and safety.
You throw a strange regard vpon me, and by that
I do perceiue it hath offended you:
Pardon me (sweet one) euen for the vowes
We made each other, but so late ago

   Du. One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons,
A naturall Perspectiue, that is, and is not

   Seb. Anthonio: O my deere Anthonio,
How haue the houres rack'd, and tortur'd me,
Since I haue lost thee?
  Ant. Sebastian are you?
  Seb. Fear'st thou that Anthonio?
  Ant. How haue you made diuision of your selfe,
An apple cleft in two, is not more twin
Then these two creatures. Which is Sebastian?
  Ol. Most wonderfull

   Seb. Do I stand there? I neuer had a brother:
Nor can there be that Deity in my nature
Of heere, and euery where. I had a sister,
Whom the blinde waues and surges haue deuour'd:
Of charity, what kinne are you to me?
What Countreyman? What name? What Parentage?
  Vio. Of Messaline: Sebastian was my Father,
Such a Sebastian was my brother too:
So went he suited to his watery tombe:
If spirits can assume both forme and suite,
You come to fright vs

   Seb. A spirit I am indeed,
But am in that dimension grossely clad,
Which from the wombe I did participate.
Were you a woman, as the rest goes euen,
I should my teares let fall vpon your cheeke,
And say, thrice welcome drowned Viola

   Vio. My father had a moale vpon his brow

   Seb. And so had mine

   Vio. And dide that day when Viola from her birth
Had numbred thirteene yeares

   Seb. O that record is liuely in my soule,
He finished indeed his mortall acte
That day that made my sister thirteene yeares

   Vio. If nothing lets to make vs happie both,
But this my masculine vsurp'd attyre:
Do not embrace me, till each circumstance,
Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and iumpe
That I am Viola, which to confirme,
Ile bring you to a Captaine in this Towne,
Where lye my maiden weeds: by whose gentle helpe,
I was preseru'd to serue this Noble Count:
All the occurrence of my fortune since
Hath beene betweene this Lady, and this Lord

   Seb. So comes it Lady, you haue beene mistooke:
But Nature to her bias drew in that.
You would haue bin contracted to a Maid,
Nor are you therein (by my life) deceiu'd,
You are betroth'd both to a maid and man

   Du. Be not amaz'd, right noble is his blood:
If this be so, as yet the glasse seemes true,
I shall haue share in this most happy wracke,
Boy, thou hast saide to me a thousand times,
Thou neuer should'st loue woman like to me

   Vio. And all those sayings, will I ouer sweare,
And all those swearings keepe as true in soule,
As doth that Orbed Continent, the fire,
That seuers day from night

   Du. Giue me thy hand,
And let me see thee in thy womans weedes

   Vio. The Captaine that did bring me first on shore
Hath my Maides garments: he vpon some Action
Is now in durance, at Maluolio's suite,
a Gentleman, and follower of my Ladies

   Ol. He shall inlarge him: fetch Maluolio hither,
And yet alas, now I remember me,
They say poore Gentleman, he's much distract.
Enter Clowne with a Letter, and Fabian.

A most extracting frensie of mine owne
From my remembrance, clearly banisht his.
How does he sirrah?
  Cl. Truely Madam, he holds Belzebub at the staues end as
well as a man in his case may do: has heere writ a letter to
you, I should haue giuen't you to day morning. But as a
madmans Epistles are no Gospels, so it skilles not much
when they are deliuer'd

   Ol. Open't, and read it

   Clo. Looke then to be well edified, when the Foole
deliuers the Madman. By the Lord Madam

   Ol. How now, art thou mad?
  Clo. No Madam, I do but reade madnesse: and your
Ladyship will haue it as it ought to bee, you must allow
Vox

   Ol. Prethee reade i'thy right wits

   Clo. So I do Madona: but to reade his right wits, is to
reade thus: therefore, perpend my Princesse, and giue
eare

   Ol. Read it you, sirrah

   Fab. Reads. By the Lord Madam, you wrong me, and
the world shall know it: Though you haue put mee into
darkenesse, and giuen your drunken Cosine rule ouer me,
yet haue I the benefit of my senses as well as your Ladieship.
I haue your owne letter, that induced mee to the
semblance I put on; with the which I doubt not, but to
do my selfe much right, or you much shame: thinke of
me as you please. I leaue my duty a little vnthought of,
and speake out of my iniury. The madly vs'd Maluolio

   Ol. Did he write this?
  Clo. I Madame

   Du. This sauours not much of distraction

   Ol. See him deliuer'd Fabian, bring him hither:
My Lord, so please you, these things further thought on,
To thinke me as well a sister, as a wife,
One day shall crowne th' alliance on't, so please you,
Heere at my house, and at my proper cost

   Du. Madam, I am most apt t' embrace your offer:
Your Master quits you: and for your seruice done him,
So much against the mettle of your sex,
So farre beneath your soft and tender breeding,
And since you call'd me Master, for so long:
Heere is my hand, you shall from this time bee
Your Masters Mistris

   Ol. A sister, you are she.
Enter Maluolio.

  Du. Is this the Madman?
  Ol. I my Lord, this same: How now Maluolio?
  Mal. Madam, you haue done me wrong,
Notorious wrong

   Ol. Haue I Maluolio? No

   Mal. Lady you haue, pray you peruse that Letter.
You must not now denie it is your hand,
Write from it if you can, in hand, or phrase,
Or say, tis not your seale, not your inuention:
You can say none of this. Well, grant it then,
And tell me in the modestie of honor,
Why you haue giuen me such cleare lights of fauour,
Bad me come smiling, and crosse-garter'd to you,
To put on yellow stockings, and to frowne
Vpon sir Toby, and the lighter people:
And acting this in an obedient hope,
Why haue you suffer'd me to be imprison'd,
Kept in a darke house, visited by the Priest,
And made the most notorious gecke and gull,
That ere inuention plaid on? Tell me why?
  Ol. Alas Maluolio, this is not my writing,
Though I confesse much like the Charracter:
But out of question, tis Marias hand.
And now I do bethinke me, it was shee
First told me thou wast mad; then cam'st in smiling,
And in such formes, which heere were presuppos'd
Vpon thee in the Letter: prethee be content,
This practice hath most shrewdly past vpon thee:
But when we know the grounds, and authors of it,
Thou shalt be both the Plaintiffe and the Iudge
Of thine owne cause

   Fab. Good Madam heare me speake,
And let no quarrell, nor no braule to come,
Taint the condition of this present houre,
Which I haue wondred at. In hope it shall not,
Most freely I confesse my selfe, and Toby
Set this deuice against Maluolio heere,
Vpon some stubborne and vncourteous parts
We had conceiu'd against him. Maria writ
The Letter, at sir Tobyes great importance,
In recompence whereof, he hath married her:
How with a sportfull malice it was follow'd,
May rather plucke on laughter then reuenge,
If that the iniuries be iustly weigh'd,
That haue on both sides past

   Ol. Alas poore Foole, how haue they baffel'd thee?
  Clo. Why some are borne great, some atchieue greatnesse,
and some haue greatnesse throwne vpon them. I
was one sir, in this Enterlude, one sir Topas sir, but that's
all one: By the Lord Foole, I am not mad: but do you remember,
Madam, why laugh you at such a barren rascall,
and you smile not he's gag'd: and thus the whirlegigge
of time, brings in his reuenges

   Mal. Ile be reueng'd on the whole packe of you?
  Ol. He hath bene most notoriously abus'd

   Du. Pursue him, and entreate him to a peace:
He hath not told vs of the Captaine yet,
When that is knowne, and golden time conuents
A solemne Combination shall be made
Of our deere soules. Meane time sweet sister,
We will not part from hence. Cesario come
(For so you shall be while you are a man:)
But when in other habites you are seene,
Orsino's Mistris, and his fancies Queene.

Exeunt.

  Clowne sings .
When that I was and a little tine boy,
with hey, ho, the winde and the raine:
A foolish thing was but a toy,
for the raine it raineth euery day.
But when I came to mans estate,
with hey ho, &c.
Gainst Knaues and Theeues men shut their gate,
for the raine, &c.
But when I came alas to wiue,
with hey ho, &c.
By swaggering could I neuer thriue,
for the raine, &c.
But when I came vnto my beds,
with hey ho, &c.
With tospottes still had drunken heades,
for the raine, &c.
A great while ago the world begon,
hey ho, &c.
But that's all one, our Play is done,
and wee'l striue to please you euery day.

FINIS. Twelfe Night, Or what you will.