Twelfth Night

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.

Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear That makes thee strangle thy propriety. Fear not, Cesario, take thy fortunes up, Be that thou know’st thou art, and then thou art As great as that thou fear’st.

How have you made division of yourself? An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin Than these two creatures.

How with a sportful malice it was follow’d May rather pluck on laughter than revenge, If that the injuries be justly weigh’d That have on both sides pass’d.

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 wrack past hope he was.

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.

Now my foes tell me plainly I am an ass; so that by my foes, sir, I profit in the knowledge of myself, and by my friends I am abus’d;

so that, conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives make your two affirmatives, why then the worse for my friends and the better for my foes.

What, to perverseness? You uncivil lady, To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars My soul the faithfull’st off’rings have breath’d out That e’er devotion tender’d! What shall I do?

Blame not this haste of mine. If you mean well, Now go with me, and with this holy man, Into the chantry by; there, before him, And underneath that consecrated roof, Plight me the full assurance of your faith, That my most jealous and too doubtful soul May live at peace.

Now go with me, and with this holy man, Into the chantry by; there, before him, And underneath that consecrated roof, Plight me the full assurance of your faith, That my most jealous and too doubtful soul May live at peace.

This is the air, that is the glorious sun, This pearl she gave me, I do feel’t and see’t, And though ’tis wonder that enwraps me thus, Yet ’tis not madness.

With such a smooth, discreet, and stable bearing As I perceive she does. There’s something in’t That is deceivable. But here the lady comes.

Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway In this uncivil and unjust extent Against thy peace.

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!

Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch, Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves, Where manners ne’er were preach’d!

I have heard of some kind of men that put quarrels purposely on others, to taste their valor. Belike this is a man of that quirk.

I have said too much unto a heart of stone, And laid mine honor too unchary on’t. There’s something in me that reproves my fault; But such a headstrong potent fault it is That it but mocks reproof.

I know of none, Nor know I you by voice or any feature. I hate ingratitude more in a man Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption Inhabits our frail blood.

I shall be much bound to you for’t. I am one that had rather go with sir priest than sir knight. I care not who knows so much of my mettle.

In nature there’s no blemish but the mind; None can be call’d deform’d but the unkind. Virtue is beauty, but the beauteous evil Are empty trunks o’erflourish’d by the devil.

Well, come again tomorrow. Fare thee well. A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell.

But, sir, I will deliver his challenge by word of mouth, set upon Aguecheek a notable report of valor, and drive the gentleman (as I know his youth will aptly receive it) into a most hideous opinion of his rage, skill, fury, and impetuosity.

“I will waylay thee going home, where if it be thy chance to kill me”—

Go hang yourselves all! You are idle shallow things, I am not of your element. You shall know more hereafter.

I am as mad as he, If sad and merry madness equal be. How now, Malvolio?

We may carry it thus, for our pleasure and his penance, till our very pastime, tir’d out of breath, prompt us to have mercy on him; at which time we will bring the device to the bar and crown thee for a finder of madmen. But see, but see.

I am not weary, and ’tis long to night; I pray you let us satisfy our eyes With the memorials and the things of fame That do renown this city.

She did show favor to the youth in your sight only to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse valor, to put fire in your heart, and brimstone in your liver.

Yond gull Malvolio is turn’d heathen, a very renegado; for there is no Christian that means to be sav’d by believing rightly can ever believe such impossible passages of grossness.

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.

Cesario, by the roses of the spring, By maidhood, honor, truth, and every thing, I love thee so, that maugre all thy pride, Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide.

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.

I am bound to your niece, sir; I mean she is the list of my voyage. SIR TO. Taste your legs, sir, put them to motion. VIO. My legs do better understand me, sir, than I understand what you mean by bidding me taste my legs.

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 wife is like to reap a proper man.

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!

You have said, sir. To see this age! A sentence is but a chev’ril glove to a good wit. How quickly the wrong side may be turn’d outward!

Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants; let thy tongue tang arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of singularity.

He has been yonder i’ the sun practicing behavior to his own shadow this half hour. Observe him, for the love of mockery; for I know this letter will make a contemplative idiot of him.

I could marry this wench for this device— SIR AND. So could I too. SIR TO. And ask no other dowry with her but such another jest.

Thy Fates open their hands, let thy blood and spirit embrace them, and to inure thyself to what thou art like to be, cast thy humble slough and appear fresh.

For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn, Than women’s are.

I would have men of such constancy put to sea, that their business might be every thing and their intent every where, for that’s it that always makes a good voyage of nothing.

Methought it did relieve my passion much, More than light airs and recollected terms Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times.

Thou dost speak masterly. My life upon’t, young though thou art, thine eye Hath stay’d upon some favor that it loves. Hath it not, boy?

Too well what love women to men may owe; In faith, they are as true of heart as we. My father had a daughter lov’d a man As it might be perhaps, were I a woman, I should your lordship.

Was not this love indeed? We men may say more, swear more, but indeed Our shows are more than will; for still we prove Much in our vows, but little in our love.

By my troth, the fool has an excellent breast. I had rather than forty shillings I had such a leg, and so sweet a breath to sing, as the fool has. In

If I do not gull him into an ayword, and make him a common recreation, do not think I have wit enough to lie straight in my bed.