Meet us on:
 
Entire Site
    Try our fun game

    Dueling book covers…may the best design win!

    Random Quote
    "The most potent muse of all is our own inner child."
     

    Subscribe to Our Newsletter

    Follow us on Twitter

    Never miss a good book again! Follow Read Print on Twitter

    Act 3, Scene I

    • Rate it:
    • Average Rating: 2.3 out of 5 based on 2 ratings
    • 5 Favorites on Read Print
    Launch Reading Mode Next Chapter
    Chapter 11
    Previous Chapter
    SCENE I. OLIVIA's garden.

    Enter VIOLA, and Clown with a tabour
    VIOLA
    Save thee, friend, and thy music: dost thou live by
    thy tabour?

    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 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 tabour stand by the church.

    Clown
    You have said, sir. To see this age! A sentence is
    but a cheveril glove to a good wit: how quickly the
    wrong side may be turned outward!

    VIOLA
    Nay, that's certain; they that dally nicely with
    words may quickly make them wanton.

    Clown
    I would, therefore, my sister had had no name, sir.

    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?

    Clown
    Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words; and
    words are grown so false, I am loath to prove
    reason with them.

    VIOLA
    I warrant thou art a merry fellow and carest for nothing.

    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 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.

    Clown
    Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun,
    it shines every where. 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.

    VIOLA
    Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee.
    Hold, there's expenses for thee.

    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. 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.

    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 'element,' but the word is over-worn.

    Exit

    VIOLA
    This fellow is 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,
    And, like the haggard, cheque 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.

    Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, and SIR ANDREW

    SIR TOBY BELCH
    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.

    SIR TOBY BELCH
    Will you encounter the house? my niece is desirous
    you should enter, if your trade be to her.

    VIOLA
    I am bound to your niece, sir; I mean, she is the
    list of my voyage.

    SIR TOBY BELCH
    Taste your legs, sir; put them to motion.

    VIOLA
    My legs do better understand me, sir, than I
    understand what you mean by bidding me taste my legs.

    SIR TOBY BELCH
    I mean, to go, sir, to enter.

    VIOLA
    I will answer you with gait and entrance. But we
    are prevented.

    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.

    VIOLA
    My matter hath no voice, to your own most pregnant
    and vouchsafed ear.

    SIR ANDREW
    'Odours,' 'pregnant' and 'vouchsafed:' I'll get 'em
    all three all ready.

    OLIVIA
    Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing.

    Exeunt SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and MARIA

    Give me your hand, sir.

    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:
    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!

    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,
    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,
    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 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
    Enough is shown: a cypress, not a bosom,
    Hideth my heart. So, let me hear you speak.

    VIOLA
    I pity you.

    OLIVIA
    That's a degree to love.

    VIOLA
    No, not a grize; for 'tis a vulgar proof,
    That very oft we pity enemies.

    OLIVIA
    Why, then, methinks 'tis time to smile again.
    O, world, how apt the poor are to be proud!
    If one should be a prey, how much the better
    To fall before the lion than the wolf!

    Clock strikes

    The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.
    Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you:
    And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest,
    Your were is alike to reap a proper man:
    There lies your way, due west.

    VIOLA
    Then westward-ho! Grace and good disposition
    Attend your ladyship!
    You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?

    OLIVIA
    Stay:
    I prithee, tell me what thou thinkest of me.

    VIOLA
    That you do think you are not what you are.

    OLIVIA
    If I think so, I think the same of you.

    VIOLA
    Then think you right: I am not what I am.

    OLIVIA
    I would you were as I would have you be!

    VIOLA
    Would it be better, madam, than I am?
    I wish it might, for now I am your fool.

    OLIVIA
    O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
    In the contempt and anger of his lip!
    A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon
    Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon.
    Cesario, by the roses of the spring,
    By maidhood, honour, truth and every thing,
    I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride,
    Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide.
    Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,
    For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause,
    But rather reason thus with reason fetter,
    Love sought is good, but given unsought better.

    VIOLA
    By innocence I swear, and by my youth
    I have one heart, one bosom and one truth,
    And that no woman has; nor never none
    Shall mistress be of it, save I alone.
    And so adieu, good madam: never more
    Will I my master's tears to you deplore.

    OLIVIA
    Yet come again; for thou perhaps mayst move
    That heart, which now abhors, to like his love.

    Exeunt
    Next Chapter
    Chapter 11
    Previous Chapter
    If you're writing a William Shakespeare essay and need some advice, post your William Shakespeare essay question on our Facebook page where fellow bookworms are always glad to help!

    Top 5 Authors

    Top 5 Books

    Book Status
    Finished
    Want to read
    Abandoned

    Are you sure you want to leave this group?