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My father had a daughter loved a man,
As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman,
I should your lordship.
Duke. And what's her history ?

Vio. A blank, my lord: She never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,
Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought;
And with a green and yellow melancholy,
She sat like Patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief. Was not this love, indeed ?
We men may say more, swear more: but, indeed,
Our shows are more than will; for still we prove
Much in our vows, but little in our love.
Duke. But died 'thy sister of her love, my boy ?

Vio. I am all the daughters of my father's house,
And all the brothers too ;-and yet I know not:
Sir, shall I to this lady ?

Duke. Ay, that's the theme.
To her in haste; give her this jewel; say,
My love can give no place, bide no denay.*


SCENE V.-Olivia's Garden.

Sir To. Come thy ways, Signior Fabian.

Fab. Nay, I'll come; if I lose a scruple of this sport, let me be boiled to death with melancholy.

Sir To. Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly rascally sheep-biter come by some notable shame?

Fab. I would exult, man: you know he brought me out of favour with my lady, about a bear-baiting here.

Sir To. To anger him, we'll have the bear again; and we will fool him black and blue:

-Shall we not, Sir Andrew ? Sir And. An we do not, it is pity of our lives.

Enter MARIA. Sir To. Here comes the little villain :- How now, my nettle of India ?

Mar. Get ye all three into the box-tree: Malvolio's coming down this walk; he has been yonder i' the sun, practising behaviour to his own shadow, this half-hour; observe him, for the love of mockery; for, I know, this letter will make a contemplative idiot of him. Close, in the name of jesting! [The men hide themselves.] Lie thou there (throws down a letter]; for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling:

[Exit MARIA. Enter MALVOLIO. Mal. 'Tis but fortune;

all is fortune. Maria once told me, she did affect me: and I have heard herself come thus near that, should she fancy,t it should be one of my complexion.

+ Love.


Besides, she uses me with a more exalted respect 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. 0, peace! now he's deeply in; look, how imagination blowst him.

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

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!
Fab. 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; courtsies 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 fool. ish 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.
* Struts.

TM Puffs him up.
I State chair.

I Couch.

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, this is my lady's hand: these be her very C's, her Ü’s, and her Ts; 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 ?

Fab. This wins him, liver and all.
Mal. [Reads] Jove knows I 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 stannyelt checksI 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, 0, 4, 1.Sir To. O, ay! make up that:-he is now at a cold scent.

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

Mal. M,–Malvolio ;--M-why, that begins my name

Fab. 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 O shall end, I hope.
Sir To. Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make him cry, 0.
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, 0, 4, 1;-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 is in my name. Soit; here follows prose. If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I 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, cast thy humblé slough,* and appear fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants : let thy tongue tang arguments of state; put thy

* Badger.

Flies at it.

4 Hawk.
Name of a hound.

elf 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 servants, and not worthy to touch fortune's fingers. Farewell. She that would alter services with thee.

The fortunate-unhappy. Daylight and champiant, 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, I the very man. I do not now fool myself

, to let imagination jade me; for every 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 presence still smile, dear my sweet, I proythee. Jove, I thank thee.--I will smile, Í will do everything 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.

Sir To. And ask no other dowry with 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 omine either ?

Sir To. Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, 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

* Skin of a snake.

Utmost exactness,

+ Open country.
§ A boy's diversion, three and trip,

approach before my lady: he will come to her in yellow stockings, and 'tis a colour she abhors; and cross-gartered, 2 fashion she detests; and he will smile upon her, 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.


SCENE 1.-Olivia's Garden.

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 mayst say, the king lies* by a beggar, if a beggar dwell near him: or the church stands by thy tabor, if thy tabor stand by the church.

Clo. You have said, Sir.-To see this age !-- A sentence is but a cheverilt 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.

Člo. 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?

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

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

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, Sir, tíll she be married; and fools are as like husbands

as pilchards are to herrings, the husbands the bigger; I am, indeed, not her fool, but her 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 everywhere. I would be sorry, Sir, but the fool should * Dwells.

† Kid.

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