Twelfth Night William Shakespeare (best management books of all time TXT) đź“–
- Author: William Shakespeare
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The Duke’s palace.
Enter Valentine and Viola in man’s attire. Valentine If the duke continue these favours towards you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanced: he hath known you but three days, and already you are no stranger. Viola You either fear his humour or my negligence, that you call in question the continuance of his love: is he inconstant, sir, in his favours? Valentine No, believe me. Viola I thank you. Here comes the count. Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants. Duke Who saw Cesario, ho? Viola On your attendance, my lord; here. DukeStand you a while aloof, Cesario,
Thou know’st no less but all; I have unclasp’d
To thee the book even of my secret soul:
Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her;
Be not denied access, stand at her doors,
And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow
Till thou have audience.
Sure, my noble lord,
If she be so abandon’d to her sorrow
As it is spoke, she never will admit me.
Be clamorous and leap all civil bounds
Rather than make unprofited return.
O, then unfold the passion of my love,
Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith:
It shall become thee well to act my woes;
She will attend it better in thy youth
Than in a nuncio’s of more grave aspect.
Dear lad, believe it;
For they shall yet belie thy happy years,
That say thou art a man: Diana’s lip
Is not more smooth and rubious; thy small pipe
Is as the maiden’s organ, shrill and sound,
And all is semblative a woman’s part.
I know thy constellation is right apt
For this affair. Some four or five attend him;
All, if you will; for I myself am best
When least in company. Prosper well in this,
And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord,
To call his fortunes thine.
I’ll do my best
To woo your lady: aside yet, a barful strife!
Whoe’er I woo, myself would be his wife. Exeunt.
Olivia’s house.
Enter Maria and Clown. Maria Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will not open my lips so wide as a bristle may enter in way of thy excuse: my lady will hang thee for thy absence. Clown Let her hang me: he that is well hanged in this world needs to fear no colours. Maria Make that good. Clown He shall see none to fear. Maria A good lenten answer: I can tell thee where that saying was born, of “I fear no colours.” Clown Where, good Mistress Mary? Maria In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in your foolery. Clown Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those that are fools, let them use their talents. Maria Yet you will be hanged for being so long absent; or, to be turned away, is not that as good as a hanging to you? Clown Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage; and, for turning away, let summer bear it out. Maria You are resolute, then? Clown Not so, neither; but I am resolved on two points. Maria That if one break, the other will hold; or, if both break, your gaskins fall. Clown Apt, in good faith; very apt. Well, go thy way; if Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a piece of Eve’s flesh as any in Illyria. Maria Peace, you rogue, no more o’ that. Here comes my lady: make your excuse wisely, you were best. Exit. Clown Wit, an’t be thy will, put me into good fooling! Those wits, that think they have thee, do very oft prove fools; and I, that am sure I lack thee, may pass for a wise man: for what says Quinapalus? “Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit.” Enter Lady Olivia with Malvolio. God bless thee, lady! Olivia Take the fool away. Clown Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady. Olivia Go to, you’re a dry fool; I’ll no more of you: besides, you grow dishonest. Clown Two faults, madonna, that drink and good counsel will amend: for give the dry fool drink, then is the fool not dry: bid the dishonest man mend himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if he cannot, let the botcher mend him. Any thing that’s mended is but patched: virtue that transgresses is but patched with sin; and sin that amends is but patched with virtue. If that this simple syllogism will serve, so; if it will not, what remedy? As there is no true cuckold but calamity, so beauty’s a flower. The lady bade take away the fool; therefore, I say again, take her away. Olivia Sir, I bade them take away you. Clown Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, cucullus non facit monachum; that’s as much to say as I wear not motley in my brain. Good madonna,
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