Twelfth Night William Shakespeare (best management books of all time TXT) 📖

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 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. 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, check at every feather
That comes before his eye. This is a practice
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, 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. Sir Toby 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 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 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, lady, but 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, 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