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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:
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
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
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, O.
Fab. Ay, an you had an eye behind you, you might see more detraction at your heels, than fortunes before
Mal. M, O, A, 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 are in my name. Soft! 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 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: 1 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,
I do not
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-de-vice, the very man. 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, 1 pr'ythee. Jove, I
Sir To. I could marry this wench for this device:
Sir To. And ask no other dowry with her, but such another jest.
Sir And. Nor I neither.
Fab. Here comes my noble gull-catcher.
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 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 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 Tubor.
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 lies by a beggar, if a beggar dwell near him: or, the church stands by thy tabor, if thy tabor stands 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.
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 bouds disgraced them. Vio. Thy reason, man?
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. 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, would it would make you
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, till she be married; and fools are as like husbands, as pilchards are to herrings, the husband's 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 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 wel