Ho! Ho! Ho! Santa Claus' Reading List

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by A. A. Milne


  tabour, if thy tabour stand by the church.

  * * *

  Clown

  You have said, sir. To see this age! A sentence is

  but a cheveril glove to a good wit: how quickly the

  wrong side may be turned outward!

  * * *

  VIOLA

  Nay, that's certain; they that dally nicely with

  words may quickly make them wanton.

  * * *

  Clown

  I would, therefore, my sister had had no name, sir.

  * * *

  VIOLA

  Why, man?

  * * *

  Clown

  Why, sir, her name's a word; and to dally with that

  word might make my sister wanton. But indeed words

  are very rascals since bonds disgraced them.

  * * *

  VIOLA

  Thy reason, man?

  * * *

  Clown

  Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words; and

  words are grown so false, I am loath to prove

  reason with them.

  * * *

  VIOLA

  I warrant thou art a merry fellow and carest for nothing.

  * * *

  Clown

  Not so, sir, I do care for something; but in my

  conscience, sir, I do not care for you: if that be

  to care for nothing, sir, I would it would make you invisible.

  * * *

  VIOLA

  Art not thou the Lady Olivia's fool?

  * * *

  Clown

  No, indeed, sir; the Lady Olivia has no folly: she

  will keep no fool, sir, till she be married; and

  fools are as like husbands as pilchards are to

  herrings; the husband's the bigger: I am indeed not

  her fool, but her corrupter of words.

  * * *

  VIOLA

  I saw thee late at the Count Orsino's.

  * * *

  Clown

  Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun,

  it shines every where. I would be sorry, sir, but

  the fool should be as oft with your master as with

  my mistress: I think I saw your wisdom there.

  * * *

  VIOLA

  Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee.

  Hold, there's expenses for thee.

  * * *

  Clown

  Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send thee a beard!

  * * *

  VIOLA

  By my troth, I'll tell thee, I am almost sick for

  one;

  Aside

  though I would not have it grow on my chin. Is thy

  lady within?

  * * *

  Clown

  Would not a pair of these have bred, sir?

  * * *

  VIOLA

  Yes, being kept together and put to use.

  * * *

  Clown

  I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia, sir, to bring

  a Cressida to this Troilus.

  * * *

  VIOLA

  I understand you, sir; 'tis well begged.

  Clown

  The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, begging but

  a beggar: Cressida was a beggar. My lady is

  within, sir. I will construe to them whence you

  come; who you are and what you would are out of my

  welkin, I might say 'element,' but the word is over-worn.

  Exit

  * * *

  VIOLA

  This fellow is wise enough to play the fool;

  And to do that well craves a kind of wit:

  He must observe their mood on whom he jests,

  The quality of persons, and the time,

  And, like the haggard, cheque at every feather

  That comes before his eye. This is a practise

  As full of labour as a wise man's art

  For folly that he wisely shows is fit;

  But wise men, folly-fall'n, quite taint their wit.

  Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, and SIR ANDREW

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  Save you, gentleman.

  * * *

  VIOLA

  And you, sir.

  * * *

  SIR ANDREW

  Dieu vous garde, monsieur.

  * * *

  VIOLA

  Et vous aussi; votre serviteur.

  * * *

  SIR ANDREW

  I hope, sir, you are; and I am yours.

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  Will you encounter the house? my niece is desirous

  you should enter, if your trade be to her.

  * * *

  VIOLA

  I am bound to your niece, sir; I mean, she is the

  list of my voyage.

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  Taste your legs, sir; put them to motion.

  * * *

  VIOLA

  My legs do better understand me, sir, than I

  understand what you mean by bidding me taste my legs.

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  I mean, to go, sir, to enter.

  * * *

  VIOLA

  I will answer you with gait and entrance. But we

  are prevented.

  Enter OLIVIA and MARIA

  Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain

  odours on you!

  * * *

  SIR ANDREW

  That youth's a rare courtier: 'Rain odours;' well.

  * * *

  VIOLA

  My matter hath no voice, to your own most pregnant

  and vouchsafed ear.

  * * *

  SIR ANDREW

  'Odours,' 'pregnant' and 'vouchsafed:' I'll get 'em

  all three all ready.

  * * *

  OLIVIA

  Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing.

  Exeunt SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and MARIA

  Give me your hand, sir.

  * * *

  VIOLA

  My duty, madam, and most humble service.

  * * *

  OLIVIA

  What is your name?

  * * *

  VIOLA

  Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess.

  * * *

  OLIVIA

  My servant, sir! 'Twas never merry world

  Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment:

  You're servant to the Count Orsino, youth.

  * * *

  VIOLA

  And he is yours, and his must needs be yours:

  Your servant's servant is your servant, madam.

  * * *

  OLIVIA

  For him, I think not on him: for his thoughts,

  Would they were blanks, rather than fill'd with me!

  * * *

  VIOLA

  Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts

  On his behalf.

  * * *

  OLIVIA

  O, by your leave, I pray you,

  I bade you never speak again of him:

  But, would you undertake another suit,

  I had rather hear you to solicit that

  Than music from the spheres.

  * * *

  VIOLA

  Dear lady,—

  * * *

  OLIVIA

  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:

  Under your hard construction must I sit,

  To force that on you, in a shameful cunning,

  Which you knew none of yours: what might you think?

  Have you not set mine honour at the stake

  And baited it with all the unmuzz
led thoughts

  That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiving

  Enough is shown: a cypress, not a bosom,

  Hideth my heart. So, let me hear you speak.

  * * *

  VIOLA

  I pity you.

  * * *

  OLIVIA

  That's a degree to love.

  * * *

  VIOLA

  No, not a grize; for 'tis a vulgar proof,

  That very oft we pity enemies.

  * * *

  OLIVIA

  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!

  Clock strikes

  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 were is alike to reap a proper man:

  There lies your way, due west.

  * * *

  VIOLA

  Then westward-ho! Grace and good disposition

  Attend your ladyship!

  You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?

  * * *

  OLIVIA

  Stay:

  I prithee, tell me what thou thinkest of me.

  * * *

  VIOLA

  That you do think you are not what you are.

  * * *

  OLIVIA

  If I think so, I think the same of you.

  * * *

  VIOLA

  Then think you right: I am not what I am.

  * * *

  OLIVIA

  I would you were as I would have you be!

  * * *

  VIOLA

  Would it be better, madam, than I am?

  I wish it might, for now I am your fool.

  * * *

  OLIVIA

  O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful

  In the contempt and anger of his lip!

  A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon

  Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon.

  Cesario, by the roses of the spring,

  By maidhood, honour, truth and every thing,

  I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride,

  Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide.

  Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,

  For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause,

  But rather reason thus with reason fetter,

  Love sought is good, but given unsought better.

  * * *

  VIOLA

  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.

  And so adieu, good madam: never more

  Will I my master's tears to you deplore.

  * * *

  OLIVIA

  Yet come again; for thou perhaps mayst move

  That heart, which now abhors, to like his love.

  Exeunt

  Scene II. Olivia's House.

  Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN

  SIR ANDREW

  No, faith, I'll not stay a jot longer.

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  Thy reason, dear venom, give thy reason.

  * * *

  FABIAN

  You must needs yield your reason, Sir Andrew.

  * * *

  SIR ANDREW

  Marry, I saw your niece do more favours to the

  count's serving-man than ever she bestowed upon me;

  I saw't i' the orchard.

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  Did she see thee the while, old boy? tell me that.

  * * *

  SIR ANDREW

  As plain as I see you now.

  * * *

  FABIAN

  This was a great argument of love in her toward you.

  * * *

  SIR ANDREW

  'Slight, will you make an ass o' me?

  * * *

  FABIAN

  I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of

  judgment and reason.

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  And they have been grand-jury-men since before Noah

  was a sailor.

  * * *

  FABIAN

  She did show favour to the youth in your sight only

  to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse valour, to

  put fire in your heart and brimstone in your liver.

  You should then have accosted her; and with some

  excellent jests, fire-new from the mint, you should

  have banged the youth into dumbness. This was

  looked for at your hand, and this was balked: the

  double gilt of this opportunity you let time wash

  off, and you are now sailed into the north of my

  lady's opinion; where you will hang like an icicle

  on a Dutchman's beard, unless you do redeem it by

  some laudable attempt either of valour or policy.

  * * *

  SIR ANDREW

  An't be any way, it must be with valour; for policy

  I hate: I had as lief be a Brownist as a

  politician.

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  Why, then, build me thy fortunes upon the basis of

  valour. Challenge me the count's youth to fight

  with him; hurt him in eleven places: my niece shall

  take note of it; and assure thyself, there is no

  love-broker in the world can more prevail in man's

  commendation with woman than report of valour.

  * * *

  FABIAN

  There is no way but this, Sir Andrew.

  * * *

  SIR ANDREW

  Will either of you bear me a challenge to him?

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  Go, write it in a martial hand; be curst and brief;

  it is no matter how witty, so it be eloquent and fun

  of invention: taunt him with the licence of ink:

  if thou thou'st him some thrice, it shall not be

  amiss; and as many lies as will lie in thy sheet of

  paper, although the sheet were big enough for the

  bed of Ware in England, set 'em down: go, about it.

  Let there be gall enough in thy ink, though thou

  write with a goose-pen, no matter: about it.

  * * *

  SIR ANDREW

  Where shall I find you?

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  We'll call thee at the cubiculo: go.

  Exit SIR ANDREW

  * * *

  FABIAN

  This is a dear manikin to you, Sir Toby.

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  I have been dear to him, lad, some two thousand

  strong, or so.

  * * *

  FABIAN

  We shall have a rare letter from him: but you'll

  not deliver't?

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  Never trust me, then; and by all means stir on the

  youth to an answer. I think oxen and wainropes

  cannot hale them together. For Andrew, if he were

  opened, and you find so much blood in his liver as

  will clog the foot of a flea, I'll eat the rest of

  the anatomy.

  * * *

  FABIAN

  And his opposite, the youth, bears in his visage no

  great presage of cruelty.

  Enter MARIA

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  Look, where the youngest wren of nine comes.

  * * *

  MARIA

 
If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourself

  into stitches, follow me. Yond gull Malvolio is

  turned heathen, a very renegado; for there is no

  Christian, that means to be saved by believing

  rightly, can ever believe such impossible passages

  of grossness. He's in yellow stockings.

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  And cross-gartered?

  * * *

  MARIA

  Most villanously; like a pedant that keeps a school

  i' the church. I have dogged him, like his

  murderer. He does obey every point of the letter

  that I dropped to betray him: he does smile his

 

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