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Seb.

Do not then walk too open.

Ant. It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here's my

purse;

In the south suburbs, at the Elephant,

Is best to lodge: I will bespeak our diet,

Whiles you beguile the time, and feed your knowledge,

With viewing of the town; there shall you have me. Seb. Why I your purse?

Ant. Haply, your eye shall light upon some toy You have desire to purchase; and your store, I think, is not for idle markets, sir.

Seb. I'll be your purse-bearer, and leave you for An hour.

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Enter OLIVIA and MARIA.

Oli. I have sent after him: He says, he'll come ; How shall I feast him? what bestow on him? For youth is bought more oft, than begg'd, or borrowed.

I speak too loud.

Where is Malvolio?—he is sad and civil,

And suits well for a servant with my fortunes ;-
Where is Malvolio?

Mar.

He's coming, madam, But in strange manner. He is sure possessed. Oli. Why, what's the matter? does he rave? Mar. No, madam, does nothing but smile; your ladyship

Were best have guard about you, if he come;
For, sure, the man is tainted in his wits.

Oli. Go call him hither. I'm as mad as he,
If sad and merry madness equal be.—

Enter MALVOLIO.

How now, Malvolio?

Mal. Sweet lady, ho, ho. [Smiles fantastically. Oli. Smil'st thou?

I sent for thee upon a sad occasion.

Mal. Sad, lady? I could be sad: This does make some obstruction in the blood, this cross-gartering; But what of that, if it please the eye of one, it is with me as the very true sonnet is: Please one, and please all.

Oli. Why, how dost thou, man? what is the matter with thee?

Mal. Not black in my mind, though yellow in my legs: It did come to his hands, and commands shall be executed. I think, we do know the sweet Roman hand.

Oli. Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio?

Mal. To bed? ay, sweet-heart; and I'll come to thee.

Oli. God comfort thee! why dost thou smile so, and kiss thy hand so oft?

Mar. How do

you,

Malvolio?

Mal. At your request? Yes; Nightingales answer daws.

Mar. Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady?

Mal. Be not afraid of greatness: - 'Twas well writ.

Oli. What meanest thou by that, Malvolio?
Mal. Some are born great,

Oli. Ha?

s Grave.

Mal. Some achieve greatness,
Oli. What says't thou?

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Mal. And some have greatness thrust upon them. Oli. Heaven restore thee!

Mal. Remember, who commended thy yellow stock

ings;

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Oli. Thy yellow stockings?

Mal. And wished to see thee cross-gartered.
Oli. Cross-gartered?

Mal. Go to thou art made, if thou desirest to be

so;

Oli. Am I made?

Mal. If not, let me see thee a servant still.

Oli. Why, this is

very

midsummer madness.

Enter Servant.

Serv. Madam, the young gentleman of the count Orsino's is returned; I could hardly entreat him back he attends your ladyship's pleasure.

:

Oli. I'll come to him. [Exit Servant.] Good Maria, let this fellow be looked to. Where's my cousin Toby? Let some of my people have a special care of him; I would not have him miscarry for the half of my dowry.

[Exeunt OLIVIA and MARIA. Mal. Oh, ho! do you come near me now? no worse man than sir Toby to look to me? This concurs directly with the letter: she sends him on purpose, that I may appear stubborn to him; for she incites me to that in the letter. Cast thy humble slough, says she be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants;-let thy tongue tang with arguments of state, put thyself into the trick of singularity; and, consequently, sets down the manner how; as, a sad face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in the habit of some sir of note, and so forth. I have limed her: but it is Jove's doing, and Jove make me thankful? And, when she went away now,

Let this fellow be looked to: Fellow! not Malvolio, nor after my degree, but fellow. Why, every thing adheres together; that no dram of a scruple, no scruple of a scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous or unsafe circumstance,-What can be said? Nothing, that can be, can come between me and the full prospect of my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked.

Re-enter MARIA, with Sir TOBY BELCH, and
FABIAN.

Sir To. Which way is he, in the name of sanetity? I'll speak to him.

Fab. Here he is, here he is :- How is't with you, sir? how is't with you, man?

Mal. Go off; I discard you, let me enjoy my private; go off.

Mar. Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did I not tell you?-Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a care of him.

Mal. Ah, ha! does she so ?

Sir To. Go to, go to; peace, peace, we must deal gently with him; let me alone. How do you, Malvolio? how is't with you? What, man! defy the devil: consider he's an enemy to mankind. Mal. Do know what you say?

you

Mar. La you, an you speak ill of the devil, how he takes it at heart! Pray Heaven he be not bewitched! My lady would not lose him for more than I'll say.

Mal. How now, mistress?

Mar. O lord!

Sir To. Pr'ythee, hold thy peace: this is not the way: Do you not see, you move him? let me alone with him.

Fab. No way but gentleness; gently, gently; the fiend is rough, and will not be roughly used.

9 Companion.

Sir To. Why, how now, my bawcock1? how dost thou, chuck?

Mal. Sir?

Sir To. Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, man! 'tis not for gravity to play at cherry-pit2 with Satan : Hang him, foul collier!"

Mal. Go hang yourselves all! you are idle shallow things: I am not of your element; you shall know more hereafter.

Sir To. Is't possible?

[Exit.

Fab. If this were played upon a stage, now, could condemn it as an improbable fiction.

I

Sir To. His very genius hath taken the infection of the device, man.

Mar. Nay, pursue him now, lest the device take air, and taint.

Fab. Why, we shall make him mad, indeed.
Mar. The house will be the quieter.

Sir To. Come, we'll have him in a dark room, and bound. My niece is already in the belief that he is mad; we may carry it thus, for our pleasure, and his penance, till our very pastime, tired out of breath, prompt us to have mercy on him: at which time, we will bring the device to the bar, and crown thee for a finder of madmen. But see, but see.

Enter Sir ANDREW AGUE-cheek.

Fab. More matter for a May morning.

Sir And. Here's the challenge, read it; I warrant, there's vinegar and pepper in't. Fab. Is't so sawcy?

Sir And. Ay, is it, I warrant him; do but read. Sir To. Give me. [Reads.] Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art but a scurvy fellow.

1

Fab. Good, and valiant.

Jolly cock, beau and coq. 2 A play among boys.

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