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spect than any one else that follows her. What should I think on't?

Sir To. Here's an over-weening rogue! Fab. O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him; how he jets* under his advanced plumes!

Sir And. 'Slight, I could so beat the rogue:
Sir To. Peace, I say.

Mal. To be Count Malvolio ;-
Sir To. Ah, rogue!

Sir And. Pistol him, pistol him.
Sir To. Peace; peace!

Mal. There is example for't; the lady of the strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe. Sir And. Fie on him, Jezebel!

Fab. O, peace! now he's deeply in; look, how imagination blowst him.

Mal. Having been three months married to her, sitting in my state,

Sir To. O, for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye!

Mal. Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet gown; having come from a day-bed, where I left Olivia sleeping:

Sir To. Fire and brimstone !
Fub. O, peace, peace!

Mal. And then to have the humour of state: and after a demure travel of regard,-telling them, I know my place, as I would they should do theirs, to ask for my kinsman Toby : Sir To. Bolts and shackles !

Fab. O, peace, peace, peace! now, now. Mal. Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for him: I frown the while; and, perchance, wind up my watch, or play with some rich jewel. Toby approaches;

court'sies there to me:

Sir To. Shall this fellow live?

Fab. Though our silence be drawn from us with ears, yet peace.

Mal. I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar smile with an austere regard of control:

Sir To. And does not Toby take you a blow o'the lips then?

Mal. Saying, Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast me on your niece, give me this prerogative of speech:

Sir To. What, what?

Mal. You must amend your drunkenness.
Sir To. Out, scab!

Fab. Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot.

Mal. Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish knight;

Sir And. That's me, I warrant you.
Mal. One Sir Andrew:

Sir And. I knew, 'twas I; for many do call me fool.

Mal. What employment have we here? [Taking up the letter. Fab. Now is the woodcock near the gin. Sir To. O, peace! and the spirit of humours intimate reading aloud to him!

Mal. By my life, that is my lady's hand: these be her very C's, her U's, and her T's; and thus makes she her great P's. It is, in contempt of question, her hand.

Sir And. Her C's, her U's, and her T's: Why that?

Mal. [Reads] To the unknown beloved, this, and my good wishes: her very phrases!-By your leave, wax.-Soft!-and the impressure her Lucrece, with which she uses to seal: 'tis my lady: To whom should this be?

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Fab. This wins him, liver and all. Mal. [Reads] Jove knows, 1 love: But who?

Lips do not move,

No man must know.

No man must know.-What follows? the numbers altered!-No man must know:-If this should be thee, Malvolio?

Sir To. Marry, hang thee, brock!*
Mal. I may command, where I adore:
But silence, like a Lucrece knife,
With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore;
M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.
Fab. A fustian riddle!

Sir To. Excellent wench, say I.

Mal. M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.-Nay, but first, let me see,-let me see,- let me see. Fab. What a dish of poison has she dressed him!

Sir To. And with what wing the stannyel checks at it!

Mal. I may command where I adore. Why, she may command me; I serve her, she is my lady. Why, this is evident to any formal capacity. There is no obstruction in this ;-And the end,-What should that alphabetical position portend? if I could make that resemble something in me,-Softly!-M, O, A, I.—

Sir To. O, ay! make up that:-he is now at

a cold scent.

Fab. Sowters will cry upon't, for all this, though it be as rank as a fox.

Mål. M,-Malvolio ;-M,-why, that begins my name.

Fub. Did not I say, he would work it out? the cur is excellent at faults.

Mal. M,-But then there is no consonancy in the sequel; that suffers under probation: A should follow, but O does.

Fab. And Ó shall end, I hope.

Sir To. Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make him cry, O.

Mal. And then I comes behind;

Fab. Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you might see more detraction at your heels, than fortunes before you.

Mal. M, O, A, I;-This simulation is not as the former :-and yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of these letters are in my name. Soft; here follows prose.— If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars 1 am above thee; but be not afraid of greatness: Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them. Thy fates open their hands; let thy blood and spirit embrace them. And, to inure thyself to what thou art like to be, cust thy humble slough,|| and appear fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants: let thy tongue tang arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of singularity: She thus advises thee, that sighs for thee. Remember who commended thy yellow stockings; and wished to see thee ever cross-gartered: I say, remember. Go to; thou art made, if thou desirest to be so; if not, let me see thee a steward still, the fellow of servints, and not worthy to touch fortune's fingers. Farewell. She that would alter services with thee.

The fortunate-unhappy. Day-light and champian¶ discovers not more: this is open. I will be proud, I will read politic authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off gross acquaintance, I will be point-device, the very man. I do not now fool myself, to let imagination jade me; for every

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Clo. I would therefore, my sister had had no name, Sir.

Vio. Why, man?

Clo. 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.

Vio. Thy reason, man?

reason excites to this, that my lady loves me.
She did commend my yellow stockings of late,
she did praise my leg being cross-gartered;
and in this she manifests herself to my love,
and, with a kind of injunction, drives me to
these habits of her liking. I thank my stars, I
am happy. I will be strange, stout, in yellow
stockings, and cross-gartered, even with the
swiftness of putting on. Jove, and my stars
be praised! Here is yet a postscript. Thou
canst not choose but know who I am. If thou
entertainest my love, let it appear in thy smiling;
thy smiles become thee well: therefore in my pre-carest for nothing.
sence still smile, dear my sweet, I pr'ythee. Jove,
I thank thee.-I will smile; I will do every
thing that thou wilt have me.
[Exit.
Fab. I will not give my part of this sport for
a pension of thousands to be paid from the
Sophy.

Sir To. I could marry this wench for this device.

Sir And. So could I too.

Clo. Troth, Sir, I can yield you none without words; and words are grown so false, I am loath to prove reason with them.

Vio. Iwarrant, thou art a merry fellow, and

Clo. 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.

Vio. Art not thou the lady Olivia's fool? Clo. No, indeed, Sir; the lady Olivia has no folly: she will keep no fool, Šir, till she be married; and fools are as like husbands, as pilchards are to herrings, the husband's the

Sir To. And ask no other dowry with her, bigger; I am, indeed, not her fool, but her but such another jest.

Enter MARIA.

Sir And. Nor I neither.

Fab. Here comes my noble gull-catcher.

Sir To. Wilt thou set thy foot o' my neck?
Sir And. Or o' mine either?

Sir To. Shall I play my freedom at traytrip, and become thy bond-slave?

Sir And. I'faith, or I either.

Sir To. Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that, when the image of it leaves him, he must run mad.

Mar. Nay, but say true; does it work upon him?

Sir To. Like aqua-vitæ with a midwife. Mar. If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark his first approach before my lady: he will come to her in yellow stockings, and 'tis a colour she abhors; and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests; and he will smile upon ber, which will now be so unsuitable to her disposition, being addicted to a melancholy as she is, that it cannot but turn him into a notable contempt: if you will see it, follow me. Sir To. To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit!

Sir And. I'll make one too.

ACT III.

SCENE 1.-OLIVIA'S Garden.

[Exeunt.

Enter VIOLA, and CLOWN with a tabor.
Vio. Save thee, friend, and thy music: Dost
thou live by thy tabor?

Clo. No, Sir, I live by the church.
Vio. Art thou a churchman?

Clo. No such matter, Sir; I do live by the church: for I do live at my house, and my house doth stand by the church.

Vio. So thou may'st say, the king liest by a beggar, if a beggar dwell near him: or, the church stands by the tabor, if thy tabor stand by the church.

Clo. 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!

Vio. Nay, that's certain; they, that dally nicely with words, may quickly make them

wanton.

A Loy's diversion three and trip. Dwells. Kid.

corrupter of words.

Vio. I saw thee late at the count Orsino's. Clo. 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.

Vio. Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee. Hold, there's expenses for thee.

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

Vio. By my troth, I'll tell thee; I am almost sick for one; though I would not have it grow on my chin. Is thy lady within?

Clo. Would not a pair of these have bred, Sir? Vio. Yes, being kept together, and put to use.

Clo. I would play lord Pandarus* of Phrygia, Sir, to bring a Cressida to this Troilus.

Vio. I understand you, Sir; 'tis well begg'd. Clo. 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.

Vio. This fellow's 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, check at every feather
That comes before his eye. This is a practice,
As full of labour as a wise man's art:
For folly, that he wisely shows, is fit;
But wise men, folly-fallen, quite taint their wit.
Enter Sir TOBY BELCH and Sir ANDREW AGUE-

CHEEK.

Sir To. Save you, gentleman.
Vio. And you, Sir.

Sir And. Dieu vous garde, monsieur.
Vio. Et vous aussi; votre serviteur.

Sir And. I hope, Sir, you are; and I am yours.

Sir To. Will you encounter the house? my niece is desirous you should enter, if your trade be to her.

Vio. I am bound to your niece, Sir: I mean, she is the list of my voyage.

* See the play of Troilus and Cressida. A hawk not well trained.

Bound, liniit

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.

Sir To. I mean, to go, Sir, to enter.

Vio. 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 And. That youth's a rare courtier! Rain odours! well.

Vio. My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your own most pregnant* and vouchsafed ear. Sir And. Odours, pregnant, and vouchsafed :I'll get 'em all three ready.

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

[Exeunt Sir TOBY, Sir ANDREW, and MARIA. Give me your hand, Sir.

Vio. My duty, madam, and most humble

service.

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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 unmuzzled thoughts
That tyrannous heart can think? To one of
your receivingt

Enough is shown; a cyprus, not a bosom, Hides my poor heart: So let me hear you speak. Vio. I pity you.

Oli. That's a degree to love.

Vio. No, not a grise ;‡ for 'tis a vulgar proof, That very oft we pity enemies.

Oli. 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 wife is like to reap a proper man:
There lies your way, due west.

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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, is
better.

Vio. 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.

Oli. Yet come again: for thou, perhaps, may'st move That heart, which now abhors, to like his love. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-A Room in OLIVIA's house. Enter Sir TOBY BELCH, Sir ANDREW AGUECHEEK, and FABIAN.

Sir And. No faith, I'll not stay a jot longer. Sir To. Thy reason, dear venom, give thy

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me?

Fab. I will prove it legitimate, Sir, upon the oaths of judgement and reason.

Sir To. And they have been grand jury-men, since before Noah was a sailor.

Fab. 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 jest, fire-new from the mint, you should have banged the youth into dumbness. This was looked for at your hand, and this was baulked: the double gift 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.

* In spite of.

Sir And. And't be any way, it must be with valour; for policy I hate: I had as lief be a Brownist, as a politician.

Sir To. 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. Fab. There is no way but this, Sir Andrew. Sir And. Will either of you bear me a challenge to him?

Sir To. Go, write it in a martial hand; be curst + and brief; it is no matter how witty, so it be eloquent, and full 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 And. Where shall I find you? Sir To. We'll call thee at the cubiculo: § Go. [Exit Sir ANDREW. Fab. This is a dear manakin to you, Sir Toby. Sir To. I have been dear to him, lad; some two thousand strong, or so.

Fab. We shall have a rare letter from him : but you'll not deliver it.

Sir To. 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. Fab. And his opposite, the youth, bears in his visage no great presage of cruelty.

Enter MARIA.

Sir To. Look, where the youngest wren of nine comes.

Mar. If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourselves into stitches, follow me: yon' 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 To. And cross-gartered?

Mar. 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 face into more lines, than are in the new map, with the augmentation of the Indies: you have not seen such a thing as 'tis; I can hardly forbear hurling things at him. I know, my lady will strike him; if she do, he'll smile, and take't for a great favour. Sir To. Come, bring us, bring us where he is [Exeun

SCENE III-A Street. Enter ANTONIO and SEBASTIAN. Seb. I would not, by my will, have troubled you; But, since you make your pleasure of your pains, I will no further chide you.

Ant. I could not stay behind you; my desire, More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth; And not all love to see you, (though so much, As might have drawn one to a longer voyage,)

Separatists in Queen Elizabeth's reign.
In Hertfordshire, which held forty persons.
Chamber
Waggon Topes,

+ Crabbed.

But jealousy what might befall your travel,
Being skilless in these parts; which to a stran.
ger,
Unguided, and unfriended, often prove
Rough and unhospitable: My willing love,
The rather by these arguments of fear,
Set forth in your pursuit.
Seb. My kind Antonio,

I can no other answer make, but, thanks,
And thanks, and ever thanks: Often good turns
Are shuffled off with such uncurrent pay:
But, were my worth, as is my conscience, firm,
You should find better dealing. What's to do?
Shall we go see the reliques of this town?
Ant. To-morrow, Sir; best, first, go see your
lodging.

Seb. 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.

Ant. Would, you'd pardon me;

I do not without danger walk these streets: Once, in a sea-fight, 'gainst the count his gallies,

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Albeit the quality of the time, and quarrel,
Might well have given us bloody argument.
It might have since been answer'd in repaying
What we took from them; which, for traffic's
sake,

Most of our city did: only myself stood out:
For which, if I be lapsedt in this place,
I shall pay dear.

Seb. Do not then walk too open.

Ant. It doth not fit me. Hold, Sir, here's my purse;

In the south suburbs, at the Elephant,
Is best to lodge: I will bespeak our diet,
Whiles you beguile the time, and feed your
knowledge,

With

viewing of the town; there shall you

have me.

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Oli. Heaven restore thee!

Let this fellow be looked to: Fellow! not Malvolio, nor after my degree, but fellow. Why, every thing adheres together; that no dram of a scruple, no scruple of a scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous or unsafe circumstance,-What can be said? Nothing, than can be, can come | between me and the full prospect of my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked.

Re-enter MARIA, with Sir TOBY BELCH, and

FABIAN.

sanctity? If all the devils in hell be drawn in Sir To. Which way is he, in the name of little, and Legion himself possessed him, yet I'll speak to him.

Fab. Here he is, here he is :-How is't with you, Sir ? how is't with you, man ? Mal. Go off; I discard you; let me enjoy my private; go off.

Mar. Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him ! did not I tell you ?-Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a care of him.

Mal. Ah, ha! does she so?

Sir To. Go to, go to; peace, peace, we must deal gently with him; let me alone. How do you, Malvolio? how is't with you? What, man! defy the devil: consider, he's an enemy to mankind.

Mal. Do you know what you say?

how he takes it at heart! Pray God, he be not

Mar. La you, an you speak ill of the devil,

bewitched!

Fab. Carry his water to the wise woman.

Mar. Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning, if I live. My lady would not lose him for more than I'll say.

Mal. How now, mistress?
Mar. O lord!

Sir To. Pr'ythee, hold thy peace; this is not

Mal. Remember, who commended thy yellow the way: Do you not see, you move him? let

stockings ;

Oli. Thy yellow stockings?

Mal. And wished to see thee cross-gartered.

Oli. Cross-gartered?

Mal. Go to: thou art made, if thou desirest to

be so ;

Oli. Am I made?

Mal. If not, let me see thee a servant still.
Oli. Why, this is very midsummer madness.+
Enter Servant.

Ser. Madam, the young gentleman of the count Orsino's is returned; I could hardly entreat him back : he attends your ladyship's pleasure.

Oli. I'll come to him. [ Exit Servant.] Good Maria, let this fellow be looked to. Where's my cousin Toby? Let some of my people have a special care of him; I would not have him miscarry for the half of my dowry.

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me alone with him.

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Sir To. Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, man! 'tis not for gravity to play at cherry-piti with Satan: Hang him, foul collier!§

Mar. Get him to say his prayers; good Sir Toby, get him to pray..

Mal. My prayers, minx?

Mar. No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godliness.

Mal. Go, hang yourselves all! you are idle shallow things: I am not of your element; you shall know more hereafter. [Exit.

Sir To. Is't possible?

Fab. If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction. Sir To. His very genius hath taken the infection of the device, man.

Mar. Nay, pursue him now; lest the device take air, and taint.

Fab. Why, we shall make him mad, indeed.
Mar. The house will be the quieter.

[Exeunt OLIVIA and MARIA. Mal. Oh, ho! do you come near me now? no worse man than Sir Toby to look to me? This concurs directly with the letter: she sends him on purpose, that I may appear stubborn to him; for she incites me to that in the letter. Cast thy humble slough, says she; be opposite with a Sir To. Come, we'll have him in a dark room, kinsman, surly with servants,-let thy tongue tang and bound. My niece is already in the belief with arguments of state,-put thyself into the that he is mad; we may carry it thus, for our trick of singularity ;- and, consequently, sets pleasure, and his penance, till our very pasdown the manner how; as, a sad face, a reve-time, tired out of breath, prompt us to have rend carriage, a slow tongue, in the habit of mercy on him: at which time, we will bring some Sir of note, and so forth. I have limed the device to the bar, and crown thee for a her; but it is Jove's doing, and Jove make finder of madmen. But see, but see. me thankful! And, when she went away now,

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* Companion.

+ Jolly cock, beau and coq.

t A play among boys.
Colliers were accounted great cheats.

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