Twelfth Night | Act III, Scene I
Scene I
Olivia's garden.
[Enter Viola, and Clown with a tabor.]
- CLOWN:
-
No, sir, I live by the church.
- VIOLA:
-
Art thou a churchman?
- CLOWN:
-
No such matter, sir: I do live by the church; for I do live(5)
at my house, and my house doth stand by the church.
- VIOLA:
-
So thou mayst say, the king lies by a beggar, if a beggar
dwell near him; or the church stands by thy tabour, if thy
tabor stand by the church.
- CLOWN:
-
You have said, sir. To see this age! A sentence is but a(10)
cheveril glove to a good wit: how quickly the wrong side
may be turned outward!
- CLOWN:
-
I would, therefore, my sister had had no name, sir.(15)
- VIOLA:
-
Why, man?
- CLOWN:
-
Why, sir, her name's a word; and to dally with that word
might make my sister wanton. But indeed words are very
rascals, since bonds disgraced them.
- VIOLA:
-
Thy reason, man?(20)
- CLOWN:
-
Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words; and
words are grown so false, I am loath to prove reason with
them.
- CLOWN:
-
Not so, sir, I do care for something; but in my conscience,
sir, I do not care for you: if that be to care for nothing,
sir, I would it would make you invisible.
- VIOLA:
-
Art not thou the Lady Olivia's fool?
- CLOWN:
-
No, indeed, sir; the Lady Olivia has no folly: she will(30)
keep no fool, sir, till she be married; and fools are as
like husbands as pilchards are to herrings, the husband's
the bigger: I am indeed not her fool, but her corrupter
of words.
- VIOLA:
-
I saw thee late at the Count Orsino's.(35)
- CLOWN:
-
Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun;
it shines everywhere. I would be sorry, sir, but the fool
should be as oft with your master as with my mistress: I
think I saw your wisdom there.
- CLOWN:
-
Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send thee
a beard!
- VIOLA:
-
By my troth, I'll tell thee, I am almost sick for one;
[Aside]
though I would not have it grow on my chin.(45)
[to Clown]
Is thy lady within?
- CLOWN:
-
Would not a pair of these have bred, sir?
- VIOLA:
-
Yes, being kept together and put to use.
- CLOWN:
-
I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia, sir, to bring
a Cressida to this Troilus.(50)
- VIOLA:
-
I understand you, sir; 'tis well begged.
- CLOWN:
-
The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, begging but a
beggar: Cressida was a beggar. My lady is within, sir. I
will construe to them whence you come; who you are
and what you would are out of my welkin, I might say(55)
‘element,’ but the word is over-worn.
[Exit.]
- VIOLA:
-
This fellow's wise enough to play the fool;
And to do that well craves a kind of wit:
He must observe their mood on whom he jests,
The quality of persons, and the time,(60)
And, like the haggard, check at every feather
That comes before his eye. This is a practise
As full of labour as a wise man's art
For folly that he wisely shows, is fit;
But wise men, folly-fall'n, quite taint their wit.(65)
[Enter Sir Toby and Sir Andrew.]
- SIR TOBY:
-
Save you, gentleman.
- VIOLA:
-
And you, sir.
- SIR ANDREW:
-
Dieu vous garde, monsieur.
- VIOLA:
-
Et vous aussi; votre serviteur.
- SIR ANDREW:
-
I hope, sir, you are; and I am yours.(70)
- SIR TOBY:
-
Will you encounter the house? my niece is desirous
you should enter, if your trade be to her.
- SIR TOBY:
-
Taste your legs, sir; put them to motion.(75)
- VIOLA:
-
My legs do better understand me, sir, than I understand
what you mean by bidding me taste my legs.
- SIR TOBY:
-
I mean, to go, sir, to enter.
- VIOLA:
-
I will answer you with gait and entrance. But we are
prevented.(80)
[Enter Olivia and Maria.]
Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain odours
on you!
- SIR ANDREW:
-
That youth's a rare courtier: ‘Rain odours’—well.
- SIR ANDREW:
-
‘Odours,’ ‘pregnant,’ and ‘vouchsafed’—I'll get 'em
all three ready.
- OLIVIA:
-
Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my
hearing.
[Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Maria.]
Give me your hand, sir.(90)
- VIOLA:
-
My duty, madam, and most humble service.
- OLIVIA:
-
What is your name?
- VIOLA:
-
Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess.
- OLIVIA:
-
My servant, sir? 'Twas never merry world,
Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment:(95)
You're servant to the Count Orsino, youth.
- VIOLA:
-
And he is yours, and his must needs be yours:
Your servant's servant is your servant, madam.
- OLIVIA:
-
For him, I think not on him: for his thoughts,
Would they were blanks rather than fill'd with me!(100)
- VIOLA:
-
Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts
On his behalf.
- OLIVIA:
-
O, by your leave, I pray you:
I bade you never speak again of him:
But, would you undertake another suit,(105)
I had rather hear you to solicit that
Than music from the spheres.
- VIOLA:
-
Dear lady,—
- OLIVIA:
-
Give me leave, beseech you. I did send,
After the last enchantment you did here,(110)
A ring in chase of you: so did I abuse
Myself, my servant and, I fear me, you:
Under your hard construction must I sit,
To force that on you, in a shameful cunning,
Which you knew none of yours: what might you(115)
think?
Have you not set mine honour at the stake,
And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts
That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your
receiving (120)
Enough is shown: a cypress, not a bosom,
Hides my heart: so let me hear you speak.

