I take the fault on me;If you offend him, I for him defy you.
SIR TOBY.
You, sir! why, what are you?
ANTONIO.
One, sir, that for his love dares yet do more
Than you have heard him brag to you he will.
SIR TOBY.
Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for you.
[They draw]
[Enter OFFICERS.]
FABIAN.
O good Sir Toby, hold! here come the officers.
SIR TOBY.
I ‘ll be with you anon.
VIOLA.
Pray, sir, put your sword up, if you please.
SIR ANDREW. Marry, will I, sir; and, for that I promis’d you, I ‘ll be as good as my word; he will bear you easily, and reins well.
1 OFFICER. This is the man; do thy office.
2 OFFICER.
Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit
Of Count Orsino.
ANTONIO.
You do mistake me, sir.
1 OFFICER.
No, sir, no jot; I know your favour well,
Though now you have no sea-cap on your head.
Take him away; he knows I know him well.
ANTONIO.
I must obey. [To VIOLA] This comes with seeking you:
But there’s no remedy; I shall answer it.
What will you do, now my necessity
Makes me to ask you for my purse? It grieves me
Much more for what I cannot do for you
Than what befalls myself. You stand amaz’d;
But be of comfort.
2 OFFICER. Come, sir, away.
ANTONIO.
I must entreat of you some of that money.
VIOLA.
What money, sir?
For the fair kindness you have show’d me here,
And, part, being prompted by your present trouble,
Out of my lean and low ability
I ‘ll lend you something. My having is not much;
I ‘ll make division of my present with you:
Hold, there ‘s half my coffer.
ANTONIO.
Will you deny me now?
Is ‘t possible that my deserts to you
Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery,
Lest that it make me so unsound a man
As to upbraid you with those kindnesses
That I have done for you.
VIOLA.
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.
ANTONIO.
O heavens themselves!
2 OFFICER. Come, sir, I pray you, go.
ANTONIO.
Let me speak a little. This youth that you see here
I snatch’d one half out of the jaws of death,
Reliev’d him with such sanctity of love,
And to his image, which methought did promise
Most venerable worth, did I devotion.
1 OFFICER. What ‘s that to us? The time goes by; away!
ANTONIO.
But O how vile an idol proves this god!
Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame.
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.
1 OFFICER.
The man grows mad; away with him!
Come, come, sir.
ANTONIO.
Lead me on.
[Exit with OFFICERS.]
VIOLA.
Methinks his words do from such passion fly
That he believes himself; so do not I.
Prove true, imagination, O, prove true,
That I, dear brother, be now ta’en for you!
SIR TOBY. Come hither, knight; come hither, Fabian; we ‘ll whisper o’er a couplet or two of most sage saws.
VIOLA.
He nam’d Sebastian. I my brother know
Yet living in my glass; even such and so
In favour was my brother; and he went
Still in this fashion, colour, ornament,
For him I imitate. O, if it prove,
Tempests are kind, and salt waves fresh in love!
[Exit.]
SIR TOBY. A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward than a hare: his dishonesty appears in leaving
