Feed on her damask cheek: fhe pin'd in thought; Smiling at grief. Was not this love, indeed? Duke. But dy'd thy fifter of her love, my boy? Duke. Ay, that's the theam. To her in hafte; give her this jewel: say, [Exeunt. SCENE changes to Olivia's Garden. Sir To. Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian. NOME thy ways, Signior Fabian. COM Fab. Nay, I'll come; if I lofe a scruple 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 ideot of him. Close, in the name of jefting! lye thou there; for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling. [Throws down a Letter, and Exit. Enter Malvoli J. Mal. 'Tis but fortune, all is fortune. Maria once told me, fhe did affect me; and I have heard her felf come thus near, that should she fancy, it should be one of my complexion. 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-weaning rogue. Fab. O, peace: contemplation makes a rare Turkey-cock of him; how he jets under his advanc'd. plumes! . 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. in Mal. Having been three months married to her, fitting 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 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 fhould do theirs my uncle Toby Sir To. Bolts and fhackles ! to ask for Fab. Fab. Oh, 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 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 fmile 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 Neice, give me this prerogative of speech→→ 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 warfant 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 spirit 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 below'd, this, and my good wishes; her very phrafes: By your leave, wax. Soft! 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. Mal. Jove knows I love, but who, lips do not move, no man must know. No man must know what fol lows? 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 bloodless froke my heart doth gore, M. O. A. I. doth feway my life. Fab. A fuftian riddle. Sir To.. Excellent wench, fay I. firft, let me fee -let me fee Fab. What a dish of poifon has fhe drefs'd him? Sir To. And with what wing the ftallion checks at it ? Mal. I may command where I adore. Why, she 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 end-what should that alphabetical pofition portend? if I could make that refemble fome thing 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 as rank as a fox. my name. Ι 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. 0. Fab. And Q fhall end, I hope. Sir To.. Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make him cry, 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. Ma! Mal. M. O. A. I.— this fimulation 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. Soft, here follows profe- If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my fears I am above thee, but be not afraid of greatnefs; fome are born great, fome atchieve greatness, and Some have greatness thrust upon them. Thy fates open their hands, let thy blood and Spirit embrace them; and to inure thy felf to what thou art like to be, caft thy humble flough, and appear fresh. Be oppofite with a kinfman, furly with fervants: let thy tongue tang arguments of flate; put thy felf into the trick of fingularity. She thus advises thee, that fighs for thee. Remember who commended thy yellow flockings, and wifh'd to fee thee ever cross'd-garter'd. I fay, remember; go to, thou art made, if thou deftreft to be fo: if not, let me fee thee a feward fill, the fellow of fervants, and not worthy to touch fortunes' fingers. Farewel. She, that would alter fervices with thee. The fortunate and happy day-light and champian discovers no more: this is open. I will be proud, I will read politick authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off grofs acquaintance, I will be point devife, the very man. : I do not now fool myself, to let imagination jade me; for every reafon excites to this, that my Lady loves me. She did commend my yellow ftockings of late, fhe did praise my leg, being crofs-garter'd, and in this fhe manifefts her self to my love, and with a kind of injunction drives me to thefe habits of her liking. I thank my stars, 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 fmiling; thy fmiles become thee well. Therefore in my prefence ftill fmile, dear my feet, I pr'ythee.Jove, I thank thee! I will fmile, I will do every thing that thou wilt have me. [Exit. Fab. I will not give my part of this fport for a penfion of thousands to be paid from the Sophy. |
