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 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. Clofe, in the name of jefting: Lie thou there; for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling. [They hide themfelves. MARIA throws down a letter, and Enter MALVOLIO. Mal. 'Tis but fortune; all is fortune. [Exit. Maria once told me, fhe did affect me; and I have heard herself come thus near, that, fhould fhe fancy, it fhould be one of my complexion. Befides, the ufes me with a more exalted respect, than any one elfe 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 jefts under his advanced plumes! Sir And. 'Slight, I could fo beat the rogue :-Sir To. Peace, I say. Mal. To be count Malvolio ; Sir To. Ah, rogue! Sir And. Piftol him, pistol him. Sir To. Peace, peace! Mal. There is example for't; the lady of the ftrachy 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 stone-bow, to hit him in the eye! Mal. Calling my officers about me in my branch'd velvet gown; having come from a daybed, 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 should do theirs, -to ask for my kinfman Toby. Sir To. Bolts and fhackles ! Fab. O, peace, peace, peace! nów, 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. Though our filence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace. Mal. I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar fmile with an auftere regard of control: Sir To. And does not Toby take you a blow o' the lips then? Mal. Saying, Coufin 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, scab! Fab. Nay, patience, or we break the finews of our plot. Mal. Befides you waste 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! 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 U's, and her T's; and thus makes the 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. To the unknown belov'd, this, and my good wishes: her very phrases!—By your leave, wax.— Soft! and the impreffure her Lucrece, with which fhe uses to feal: 'tis my lady: To whom should this be? Fab. This wins him, liver and all. But who? Lips do not move, No man must know. No man must know. What follows? the number's -- alter'd! alter'd!-No man must know:-if this fhould be thee, Malvolio? Sir To. Marry, hang thee, brock! Mal. I may command, where I adore : Fab. A fuftian riddle! Sir To. Excellent wench, fay I. Mal. M. O. A. I. doth fway my life.--Nay, but first, let me fee, let me fee,-let me fee. Fab. What a dish of poison has fhe dress'd him? Sir To. And with what wing the ftannyel 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 obstruction in this;--And the end;What should that alphabetical pofition portend? if I could make that refemble fomething in me,Softly; -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, though it be 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 0 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, an you had an 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 cruth 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 ftars I am above thee; but be not afraid of greatness: Some are born great, fome atchieve greatness, and fome have greatness thrust upon them. Thy fates open their hands; let thy blood and fpirit embrace them. And, to enure thyself 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 thyself 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-garter'd: I fay, remember. Go to; thou art made, if thou defirft to be fo; if not, let me fee thee a feward fill, the fellow of fervants, and not worthy to touch fortune's fingers. Farewell. She, that would alter fervices with thee, The fortunate-unhappy. Day-light and champian difcovers not more: this is open. I will be proud, I will read politic authors, I will baffie Sir Toby, I will wath off grofs acquaintance, I will be pointde-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. She did commend my yellow ftockings of late; the did praife my leg being cross-garter'd; and in this the manifefts |
