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Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature fiame.
In nature there's no blemish but the mind :
None can be call'd deform'd but the unkind.
Virtue is beauty ; but the beauteous evil
Are empty trunks, o'erflourish'd by the devil.

i Offic. The man grows mad, away with him. -Come, come, Sir.

Ant. Lead me on. [Exit Antonio with Officers.

Vio. Methinks his words do from such pallion fly, That he believes himself-so do not I. Prove true, imagination, oh, prove true, That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you!

Sir To. Come hither, knight ; come hither, Fabian; we'll whisper o'er a couplet or two of mots sage saws.

Vio. He nam'd Sebastian ; I my brother know Yet living in my glass. Even such, and so In favour was my brother; and he went Still in this fashion, colour, ornament; For him I imitate : oh, if it prove, Tempests are kind, and salt waves fresh in love.

[Exit. Sir To. A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward than a hare: his dishonesty appears in leaving his friend here in novellity, and denying him; and for his cowardlhip, a. Fabian.

Fab. A coward, a most devout coward, religious in it.

Sir And. 'Slid, I'll after him again, and beat him.

Sir To. Do, cuff him soundly, but never draw thy sword. Sir And. An I do not [Exit Sir Andrew. Fab. Come, let's see the event.

Sir To. I dare lay any money 'twill be nothing vet.



The Street.

Enter Sebastian and Clown.


WILL you make me believe that I am not sene

Seb. Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow. Let me be clear of thee.

Clo. Well held out, i'faith : no, I do not know you, nor I am not sent to you by my Lady, to bid you come speak with her; nor your name is not Master Cesario, nor this is not my nose neither. Nothing that is so, is so.

Seb. I pr’ythee, vent thy folly somewhere else; thou know it not me.

Clo. Vent my folly !-he has heard that word of some great man, and now applies it to a fool. Vent my folly! I am afraid this great lubber the world will prove a cockney. I pr’ythee now ungird thy strangeness, and tell me what I shall vent to, my Lady; shall I vent to her that thou art coming?

Seb. I prythee, foolish Greek *, depart from me; there's money for thee. If you tarry longer, I shall give worse payment.

Clo. By my troth thou hast an open hand; these wise men that give fools money, get themselves a good report after fourteen years purchase.

Enter Sir Andrew, Sir Toby, and Fabian. Sir And. Now, Sir, have I met you again? there's

[Striking Sebastian, * Greek was as much as to say, bawd or pander. He understood the Clown to be acting in that office. A bawdyhouse was called Corinth, and the frequenters of it, Corinthians, which words occur frequently in Shakespeare, especially in Timon of Athens, and Henry IVth.


for you.

Seb. Why, there's for thee, and there, and there : are all the

people mad? [Beating Sir Andrew. Sir To. Hold, Sir, or I'll throw your dagger o'er the house.

Clo. This will I tell my Lady strait : I would not be in some of your coats for two pence.[Exit Clown.

Sir To. Come on, Sir; hold. [Holding Sebastian.

Sir And. Nay, let him alone, I'll go another way to work with him; I'll have an action of battery against him, if there be any law in Illyria ; tho' I struck him firft, yet it's no matter for that,

Seb. Let go thy hand.

Sir To. Come Sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier, put up your iron; you are well flesh'd : come on.

Seb. I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou now? If thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword.

Sir I'o. What, what? nay, then, I must have an ounce or two of this malapert blood from you.

[They draw and fight. S CE N E II.

Enter Olivia. Oli. Hold, Toby; on thy life, I charge thee, hold. Sir To. Madam?

Oli. Will it be ever thus ? ungracious wretch, Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves Where manners ne'er were preach'd: out of my Be not offended, dear Cesario:

[fight! Rudesby, be gone! I prythee, gentle friend,

[Exeunt Sir Toby and Sir Andrew. Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway In this uncivil and unjust extent Against thy peace. Go with me to my house, And hear thou there, how many fruitless pranks This ruffian hath botch'd up, that thou thereby


* Extent is, in law, a writ of execution, whereby goods are seized for the king. It is therefore taken, bere, for violence in general. Johnson.

May'st smile at this : thou shalt not chuse but go;
Do not deny ; beshrew his soul for me,
He started one poor heart of mine in thee.

Seb. What relish is in this? how runs the stream?
Or I am mad, or else this is a dream.
Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep,
If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep.
Oli. Nay, come, I pray: 'would thou’dst be ruld

by me. Seb. Madam, I will. Oli. O, say so, and so be!

[Exeunt. S CE N E III. An Apartment in Olivia's House.

Enter Maria, and Clown. Mar. Nay, I pr’ythee, put on this gown, and this beard; make him believe thou art Sir Topas the curate; do it quickly. I'll call Sir Toby the whilft.

[Exit Maria. Clo. Well, I'll put it on, and I will difTemble myself in't; and I would I were the first that ever disembled in such a gown. I am not tall enough to become the function well; nor lean enough to be thought a good student; but to be said an honest man, and a good housekeeper, goes as fairly as to say a careful man * and a great feholar. The competitors enter.

Enter Sir Toby and Maria. Sir To. Jove bless thee, Mr Parson. Clo. Bonos dies, Sir Toby; for as the old hermit of Prague, that never saw pen and ink, very wittily said to a niece of King Gorboduck, that that is, is : fo I being Mr Parson, am Mr Parson; for what is that, but that? and is, but is ?

Sir To. To him, Sir Topas.
Clo. What, hoa, I say,- peace in this prison !
Sir To. The knave counterfeits well; a good knave.

* A graceful man. Warb. Hanmer.

Mal. Who calls there? (Malvolio within.

Clo. Sir Topas the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio the lunatic.

Mal. Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to my Lady.

Clo. Out, hyperbolical fiend, how vexest thou this man?_Talkest thou of nothing but ladies ?

Sir To. Well said, Master Parson.

Mal. Sir Topas, never was man thus wrong'd good Sir Topas, do not think I am mad; they have laid me here in hideous darkness.

Clo. Fy, thou dishonest Sathan; I call thee by the most modest terms; for I am one of those gentle ones that will use the devil himself with courtesy: fay'st thou that house is dark? Mal. As hell, Sir Topas.

Clo. Why, it hath bay-windows transparent as baricadoes, and the clear stones towards the southnorth are as lustrous as ebony; and yet complainest thou of obitruction?

Mal. I am not mad, Sir Topas; I say to you, this house is dark.

Clo. Madman, thou errest; I say, there is no darkness but ignorance ; in which thou art more puzzled than the Egyptians in their fog.

Mal. I lay this house is as dark as ignorance, though ignorance were as dark as hell; and I say there was never man thus abus'd; I am no more mad than you are, make the trial of it in any constant question.

Clo. What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild-fowl ?

Mal. That the soul of our grandam might hapspily inhabit a bird.

člo. What think'st thou of his opinion ?

Mal. I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve of his opinion.

Clo. Fare thee well: remain thou still in dark. ness; thou shalt hold the opinion of Pythagoras, ere I will allow of thy wits; and fear to kill a wood

Vol. III.

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