TWELFTH NIGHT. Уильям Шекспир

How with mine honour may I give him that

       Which I have given to you?

       VIOLA.

       I will acquit you.

       OLIVIA.

       Well, come again tomorrow; fare thee well.

       A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell.

       [Exit.]

       [Re-enter SIR TOBY and FABIAN.]

       SIR TOBY.

       Gentleman, God save thee!

       VIOLA.

       And you, sir.

       SIR TOBY. That defence thou hast, betake thee to ‘t. Of what nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know not; but thy intercepter, full of despite, bloody as the hunter, attends thee at the orchard-end. Dismount thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation; for thy assailant is quick, skilful, and deadly.

       VIOLA. You mistake, sir; I am sure no man hath any quarrel to me: my remembrance is very free and clear from any image of offence done to any man.

       SIR TOBY. You’ll find it otherwise, I assure you. Therefore, if you hold your life at any price, betake you to your guard; for your opposite hath in him what youth, strength, skill, and wrath can furnish man withal.

       VIOLA.

       I pray you, sir, what is he?

       SIR TOBY. He is knight, dubb’d with unhatch’d rapier and on carpet consideration; but he is a devil in private brawl: souls and bodies hath he divorc’d three; and his incensement at this moment is so implacable that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death and sepulchre. Hob, nob, is his word; give ‘t or take ‘t.

       VIOLA. I will return again into the house and desire some conduct of the lady. I am no fighter. I have heard of some kind of men that put quarrels purposely on others, to taste their valour; belike this is a man of that quirk.

       SIR TOBY. Sir, no; his indignation derives itself out of a very competent injury. Therefore get you on and give him his desire. Back you shall not to the house, unless you undertake that with me which with as much safety you might answer him. Therefore on, or strip your sword stark naked; for meddle you must, that ‘s certain, or forswear to wear iron about you.

       VIOLA. This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you, do me this courteous office, as to know of the knight what my offence to him is; it is something of my negligence, nothing of my purpose.

       SIR TOBY.

       I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by this gentleman till my

       return.

       [Exit.]

       VIOLA.

       Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter?

       FABIAN. I know the knight is incens’d against you, even to a mortal arbitrement; but nothing of the circumstance more.

       VIOLA.

       I beseech you, what manner of man is he?

       FABIAN. Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read him by his form, as you are like to find him in the proof of his valour. He is, indeed, sir, the most skilful, bloody, and fatal opposite that you could possibly have found in any part of Illyria. Will you walk towards him? I will make your peace with him, if I can.

       VIOLA. 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.

       [Exeunt.]

       [Re-enter SIR TOBY, with SIR ANDREW.]

       SIR TOBY. Why, man, he’s a very devil; I have not seen such a firago. I had a pass with him, rapier, scabbard, and all, and he gives me the stuck in with such a mortal motion that it is inevitable; and, on the answer, he pays you as surely as your feet hit the ground they step on. They say he has been fencer to the Sophy.

       SIR ANDREW.

       Pox on ‘t, I’ll not meddle with him.

       SIR TOBY. Ay, but he will not now be pacified; Fabian can scarce hold him yonder.

       SIR ANDREW. Plague on ‘t; and I thought he had been valiant and so cunning in fence, I’d have seen him damn’d ere I ‘d have challeng’d him. Let him let the matter slip, and I ‘ll give him my horse, gray Capilet.

       SIR TOBY. I ‘ll make the motion. Stand here, make a good show on ‘t; this shall end without the perdition of souls. [Aside] Marry, I ‘ll ride your horse as well as I ride you.

       [Re-enter FABIAN and VIOLA.]

       [To FABIAN] I have his horse to take up the quarrel; I have persuaded him the youth ‘s a devil.

       FABIAN. He is as horribly conceited of him; and pants and looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels.

       SIR TOBY. [To VIOLA] There ‘s no remedy, sir: he will fight with you for ‘s oath sake. Marry, he hath better bethought him of his quarrel, and he finds that now scarce to be worth talking of: therefore draw, for the supportance of his vow; he protests he will not hurt you.

       VIOLA. [Aside] Pray God defend me! A little thing would make me tell them how much I lack of a man.

       FABIAN.

       Give ground, if you see him furious.

       SIR TOBY. Come, Sir Andrew, there’s no remedy; the gentleman will, for his honour’s sake, have one bout with you; he cannot by the duello avoid it; but he has promis’d me, as he is a gentleman and a soldier, he will not hurt you. Come on; to ‘t.

       SIR ANDREW.

       Pray God, he keep his oath!

       VIOLA.

       I do assure you ‘t is against my will. [They draw]

       [Enter ANTONIO.]

       ANTONIO.

       Put up your sword. If this young gentleman

       Have done offence, 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