Duke. Ay, that's the theme.

To her in hafte; give her this jewel: fay,

My love can give no place, bide no denay. [Exeunt.

Changes to Olivia's Garden.

Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian.

Sir To. Come thy ways, Signor Fabian. Fab. Nay, I'll come; if I lofe a fcruple of this fport, let me be boil'd to death with melancholy.

Sir To. Would't thou not be glad to have the niggardly rafcally fheep-biter come by fome notable fhame?

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; fhall we not, Sir Andrew?

Sir And. An we do not, it's 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'th' fun practifing behaviour to his own fhadow this half hour. Obferve him, for the love of mockery; for I know this letter will make a contemplative idiot of him. Close, in the name of jesting! İye thou there; for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling.

[Throws down a letter, and exit.

Mal. 'Tis but fortune, all is fortune.

Maria

once told me, fhe did affect me; and I have heard herfelf come thus near, that fhould the fancy, it

fhould be one of my complection. Befides, fhe ufes me with a more exalted refpect than any one else that follows her. What fhould 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 advanc'd plums!

Sir And: 'Slife, I could fo beat the rogue.
Sir To. Peace, I fay.

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 blows him.

Mal. Having been three months married to her, fitting in my ftate

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

Mal. Calling my officers about me, in my branch'd velvet gown; having come down from a day bed, where I have left Olivia fleeping.

Sir To. Fire and brimftone!

Fab. O, peace, peace.

Mal. And then to have the humour of ftate; and after a demure travel of regard, telling them, I know my place, as I would they fhould do theirsto ask for my uncle Toby..

Sir To. Bolts and fhackles !

Fab. Oh, peace, peace, peace; now, now.

Mal. Seven of my people with an obedient ftart make out for him: I frown the while, and, perchance, wind up my watch, or play with fome rich jewel. Toby approaches, curtfies there to me. Sir To. Shall this fellow live?

Fab. Tho' our filence be drawn from us with cares, yet, peace.

Mal. I extend my hand to him thus; quenching my familiar fimile with an auftere regard of controul.

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

Mal. Saying, uncle Toby, my fortunes having caft me on your niece, give me this prerogative of fpeech

Sir To. What, what?

Mal. You must amend your drunkenness.
Sir To.. Out, fcab.

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

Mal. Befides, you wafte 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. Oh peace! now the fpirit of humours intimate reading aloud to him!

Mal. By my life, this is my Lady's hand: thefe be her very C's, her U's, and her T's, and thus makes fhe her great P's. It is, in contempt of queftion, her hand.

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

Mal. To the unknown belov'd, this, and my good wifes, her very phrafes. By your leave, wax. Sofe! and the impreffure her Lucrece, with which the ufes to feal; 'tis my Lady: to whom fhould this be? Fab. This wins him, liver and all.

Mal. Jove knows I love, but who Lips do not move, no man must know.

No man must know- what follows? the number's alter'd no man must know-if this should be thee, Malvolio?

Sir To. Marry, hang thee, brock!

Mal. I may command, where I adore;
But filence, like a Lucrece knife,
With bleedlefs ftroke my heart doth gore;
M. O. A. I. doth fway my life..

Fab. A fuftian riddle.

Sir To. Excellent wench, fay I.

Mal. M. O. A. I. doth fway my life-nay, but firft, let me fee-let me fee

Fab. What a difh of poison has fhe drefs'd him? Sir To. And with what wing the stannyel checks at it?

Mal. I may command where I adore. Why, fhe may command me: I ferve her, fhe is my Lady. Why, this is evident to any *formal capacity.

There is no obftruction in this-and the endwhat should that alphabetical pofition portend? if I could make that resemble something in me? foftly -M. O. A. I.

Sir To. O, ay! make up that; he is now at a cold fcent.

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

Mal.

M.-Malvolio-M.-why, that begins

my name.

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

Mal. M. But then there is no confonancy in the fequel; That fuffers under probation: A fhould follow, but O does.

Fab. And 0 + fhall end, I hope.

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

Mal. And then I comes behind.

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

Mal. M. O. A. I.-This fimulation ‡ is not as the former and yet to crufh this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of thefe letters is in my name. Soft, here follows profe---- If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I am above thee, but

Formal, for common.

Warburton.

By O is here meant, what we now call a hempen colar. Johnfon.

Simulation for resemblance

be not afraid of greatness; some are born great, fome atchieve greatness, and fome have greatnefs thrust upon them. Thy fates open their hands, let thy blood and fpirit embrace them; and to inure thySelf to what thou art like to be, caft thy humble flough, and appear fresh. Be opposite with a kinfman, furly with fervants: let thy tongue tang arguments of State; put thyself into the trick of fingularity. She thus advifes thee, that fighs for thee. Remember who commended thy yellow ftockings, and wish'd to fee thee ever cross-garter'd. I fay, remember; go to, thou art made, if thou defireft to be fo: if not, let me fee thee a steward ftill, the fellow of fervants, and not worthy to touch fortune's fingers. Farewell. She, that would alter fervices with thee, the fortunate and happy. Day-light and champion difcovers no more: this is open. I will be proud, I will read politic authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off grofs acquaintance, I will be point de vice, the very man. I do not now fool myfelf, to let imagination jade me; for every reafon excites to this, that my Lady loves me. did commend my yellow ftockings of late, fhe did praife my leg, being crofs-garter'd; and in this fhe manifefts herself to my love, and with a kind of injunction drives me to thefe habits of her liking. I thank my ftars, I am happy: I will be ftrange, ftout, in yellow ftockings, and crofs-garter'd, even with the fwiftness of putting on. Jove, and my ftars be praised!-Here is yet a poftfcript. Thou canst not chufe but know who I am: if thou entertaineft my love, let it appear in thy Smiling; thy fmiles become thee well. Therefore in my prefence Still fmile, dear my weet, I prythee.Jove, I thank thee! I will fmile, I will do every thing that thou wilt have me.

She

[Exit.

Fab. I will not give my part of this fport for a penfion 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 afk no other dowry with her, but fuch another jeft.