Original Text
Enter Sebastian and Clown.
Original Text
CLOWN. Will you make me believe that I am not sent for you?
Original Text
SEBASTIAN. Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow. Let me be clear of thee.
Original Text
CLOWN. Well held out, i’ faith! No, I do not know you, nor I am not sent to you by my lady, to bid you come speak with her; nor your name is not Master Cesario; nor this is not my nose neither. Nothing that is so, is so.
Original Text
SEBASTIAN. I prithee vent thy folly somewhere else, Thou know’st not me.
Original Text
CLOWN. Vent my folly! He has heard that word of some great man, and now applies it to a fool. Vent my folly! I am afraid this great lubber, the world, will prove a cockney. I prithee now, ungird thy strangeness, and tell me what I shall vent to my lady. Shall I vent to her that thou art coming?
Original Text
SEBASTIAN. I prithee, foolish Greek, depart from me. There’s money for thee; if you tarry longer I shall give worse payment.
Original Text
CLOWN. By my troth, thou hast an open hand. These wise men that give fools money get themselves a good report—after fourteen years’ purchase. Enter Sir Andrew, Sir Toby and Fabian.
Original Text
SIR ANDREW. Now sir, have I met you again? There’s for you. [_Striking Sebastian._]
Original Text
SEBASTIAN. Why, there’s for thee, and there, and there. Are all the people mad? [_Beating Sir Andrew._]
Original Text
SIR TOBY. Hold, sir, or I’ll throw your dagger o’er the house.
Original Text
CLOWN. This will I tell my lady straight. I would not be in some of your coats for twopence. [_Exit Clown._]
Original Text
SIR TOBY. Come on, sir, hold!
Original Text
SIR ANDREW. Nay, let him alone, I’ll go another way to work with him. I’ll have an action of battery against him, if there be any law in Illyria. Though I struck him first, yet it’s no matter for that.
Original Text
SEBASTIAN. Let go thy hand!
Original Text
SIR TOBY. Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier, put up your iron: you are well fleshed. Come on.
Original Text
SEBASTIAN. I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou now? If thou dar’st tempt me further, draw thy sword. [_Draws._]
Original Text
SIR TOBY. What, what? Nay, then, I must have an ounce or two of this malapert blood from you. [_Draws._]
Original Text
Enter Olivia.
Original Text
OLIVIA. Hold, Toby! On thy life I charge thee hold!
Original Text
SIR TOBY. Madam.
Original Text
OLIVIA. Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch, Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves, Where manners ne’er were preach’d! Out of my sight! Be not offended, dear Cesario. Rudesby, be gone! [_Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew and Fabian._] I prithee, gentle friend, Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway In this uncivil and unjust extent Against thy peace. Go with me to my house, And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks This ruffian hath botch’d up, that thou thereby Mayst smile at this. Thou shalt not choose but go. Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me, He started one poor heart of mine, in thee.
Original Text
SEBASTIAN. What relish is in this? How runs the stream? Or I am mad, or else this is a dream. Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep; If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!
Original Text
OLIVIA. Nay, come, I prithee. Would thou’dst be ruled by me!
Original Text
SEBASTIAN. Madam, I will.
Original Text
OLIVIA. O, say so, and so be! [_Exeunt._]