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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 sprite.-- |
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. |
[Going.] |
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; |
If I do feign, you witnesses above |
Punish my life for tainting of my love! |
OLIVIA. |
Ah me, detested! how am I beguil'd! |
VIOLA. |
Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong? |
OLIVIA. |
Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long?-- |
Call forth the holy father. |
[Exit an ATTENDANT.] |
DUKE. |
[To Viola.] Come, away! |
OLIVIA. |
Whither, my lord? Cesario, husband, stay. |
DUKE. |
Husband? |
OLIVIA. |
Ay, husband, can he that deny? |
DUKE. |
Her husband, sirrah? |
VIOLA. |
No, my lord, not I. |
OLIVIA. |
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--O, welcome, father! |
[Re-enter Attendant and Priest.] |
Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence, |
Here to unfold,--though lately we intended |
To keep in darkness what occasion now |
Reveals before 'tis ripe,--what thou dost know |
Hath newly passed between this youth and me. |
PRIEST. |
A contract of eternal bond of love, |
Confirmed by mutual joinder of your hands, |
Attested by the holy close of lips, |
Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings; |
And all the ceremony of this compact |
Sealed in my function, by my testimony: |
Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave, |
I have travelled but two hours. |
DUKE. |
O thou dissembling cub! What wilt thou be, |
When time hath sowed a grizzle on thy case? |
Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow |
That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow? |
Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feet |
Where thou and I henceforth may never meet. |
VIOLA. |
My lord, I do protest,-- |
OLIVIA. |
O, do not swear; |
Hold little faith, though thou has too much fear. |
[Enter SIR ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK, with his head broke.] |
SIR ANDREW. |
For the love of God, a surgeon; send one presently to Sir Toby. |