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sir; but I would not have you to think that my desire of having |
is the sin of covetousness. But, as you say, sir, let your bounty |
take a nap; I will awake it anon. Exit |
Enter ANTONIO and OFFICERS |
VIOLA. Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me. |
DUKE. That face of his I do remember well; |
Yet when I saw it last it was besmear'd |
As black as Vulcan in the smoke of war. |
A baubling vessel was he captain of, |
For shallow draught and bulk unprizable, |
With which such scathful grapple did he make |
With the most noble bottom of our fleet |
That very envy and the tongue of los |
Cried fame and honour on him. What's the matter? |
FIRST OFFICER. Orsino, this is that Antonio |
That took the Phoenix and her fraught from Candy; |
And this is he that did the Tiger board |
When your young nephew Titus lost his leg. |
Here in the streets, desperate of shame and state, |
In private brabble did we apprehend him. |
VIOLA. He did me kindness, sir; drew on my side; |
But in conclusion put strange speech upon me. |
I know not what 'twas but distraction. |
DUKE. Notable pirate, thou salt-water thief! |
What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies |
Whom thou, in terms so bloody and so dear, |
Hast made thine enemies? |
ANTONIO. Orsino, noble sir, |
Be pleas'd that I shake off these names you give me: |
Antonio never yet was thief or pirate, |
Though I confess, on base and ground enough, |
Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither: |
That most ingrateful boy there by your side |
From the rude sea's enrag'd and foamy mouth |
Did I redeem; a wreck past hope he was. |
His life I gave him, and did thereto ad |
My love without retention or restraint, |
All his in dedication; for his sake, |
Did I expose myself, pure for his love, |
Into the danger of this adverse town; |
Drew to defend him when he was beset; |
Where being apprehended, his false cunning, |
Not meaning to partake with me in danger, |
Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance, |
And grew a twenty years removed thing |
While one would wink; denied me mine own purse, |
Which I had recommended to his use |
Not half an hour before. |
VIOLA. How can this be? |
DUKE. When came he to this town? |
ANTONIO. To-day, my lord; and for three months before, |
No int'rim, not a minute's vacancy, |
Both day and night did we keep company. |
Enter OLIVIA and ATTENDANTS |
DUKE. Here comes the Countess; now heaven walks on earth. |
But for thee, fellow- fellow, thy words are madness. |
Three months this youth hath tended upon me- |
But more of that anon. Take him aside. |
OLIVIA. What would my lord, but that he may not have, |
Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable? |
Cesario, you do not keep promise with me. |
VIOLA. Madam? |
DUKE. Gracious Olivia- |
OLIVIA. What do you say, Cesario? Good my lord- |
VIOLA. My lord would speak; my duty hushes me. |
OLIVIA. If it be aught to the old tune, my lord, |
It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear |
As howling after music. |
DUKE. Still so cruel? |
OLIVIA. Still so constant, lord. |
DUKE. What, to perverseness? You uncivil lady, |
To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars |
My soul the faithfull'st off'rings hath breath'd out |
That e'er devotion tender'd! What shall I do? |
OLIVIA. 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?- a savage jealousy |
That sometime savours nobly. But hear me this: |
Since you to non-regardance cast my faith, |
And that I partly know the instrument |
That screws me from my true place in your favour, |
Live you the marble-breasted tyrant still; |
But this your minion, whom I know 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. |
VIOLA. And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly, |
To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die. |
OLIVIA. Where goes Cesario? |
VIOLA. After him I love |
More than I love these eyes, more than my life, |
More, by all mores, than e'er I shall love wife. |
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