SCENE I. The Street before Olivia’s House.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. The Street before Olivia’s House.

[Enter Sebastian and Clown.]

CLOWN

Will you make me believe that I am not sent for you?

SEBASTIAN

Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow.

Let me be clear of thee.

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.

SEBASTIAN

I prithee vent thy folly somewhere else,

Thou know’st not me.

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?

SEBASTIAN

I prithee, foolish Greek, depart from me.

There’s money for thee; if you tarry longer

I shall give worse payment.

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.]

SIR ANDREW

Now sir, have I met you again? There’s for you.

[Striking Sebastian.]

SEBASTIAN

Why, there’s for thee, and there, and there.

Are all the people mad?

[Beating Sir Andrew.]

SIR TOBY

Hold, sir, or I’ll throw your dagger o’er the house.

CLOWN

This will I tell my lady straight. I would not be in some of your coats for twopence.

[Exit Clown.]

SIR TOBY

Come on, sir, hold!

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.

SEBASTIAN

Let go thy hand!

SIR TOBY

Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier, put up your iron: you are well fleshed. Come on.

SEBASTIAN

I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou now?

If thou dar’st tempt me further, draw thy sword.

[Draws.]

SIR TOBY

What, what? Nay, then, I must have an ounce or two of this malapert blood from you.

[Draws.]

[Enter Olivia.]

OLIVIA

Hold, Toby! On thy life I charge thee hold!

SIR TOBY

Madam.

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.

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!

OLIVIA

Nay, come, I prithee. Would thou’dst be ruled by me!

SEBASTIAN

Madam, I will.

OLIVIA

O, say so, and so be!

[Exeunt.]