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Sir To. What wilt thou do?
Mar. I will drop in his way some obscure epis. tles of love; wherein, by the colour of his beard, the shape of his leg, the manner of his gait, the ex. pressure of his eye, forehead, and complexion, he shall fiud bimself most feeliugly personated: I can write very like my lady, your viece; on a forgotten matter we can hardly make distinction of our hands.
Sir To. Excellent! I smell a device.
Sir To. He shall think, by the letters that thou wilt drop, that they come from my niece, and that she is in love with him.
Mar. My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour.
Sir And. And your horse now would make him
Mar, Ass, I doubt not.
Mar. Sport royal, I warrant you : I know, my physic will work with him. I will plant you two, and let the fool make a third, where he shall find the letter; observe his construction of it. For this night, to bed, and dream on the event. Farewell.
[Erit. Sir To. Good night, Penthesilea*. Sir And. Before me, she's a good wench. Sir To. She's a beagle, true-bred, and one that adores me; What o' that?
Sir And. I was adored once too.
Sir To. Let's to bed, knight.-Thou hadst need send for more money.
Sir And. If I cannot recover your niece, I am a foul way out.
Sir To. Send for money, knight; if thou hast her not i' the end, call me Cut*.
Sir And. If I do not, never trust me, take it how
Sir To. Come, come; I'll go buro some sack, 'tis too late to go to bed now: come, knight; come, knight.
A room in the Duke's palace.
Enter Duke, Viola, Curio, and others.
Duke. Give me some music: Now, good morrow,
Cur. He is not here, so please your lordship, that should sing it.
Duke. Who was it?
Cur. Feste, the jester, my lord; a fool, that the
Vio. It gives a very echo to the seat
Duke. Thou dost speak masterly:
My life upon't, young though thou art, thine eye
A little, by your favour.
of your complexion. Duke. She is not worth thee then. What years,
i'faith? Vio. About your years, my lord. Duke. Too old, by heaven; Let still the woman
I think it well, my lord.
Vio. And so they are: alas, that they are so; To die, even when they to perfection grow!
Re-enter Curio, and Clown.
Duke. O fellow, come, the song we had last
+ Lace makers.
Tinies of simplicity.
Clo. Come away, come away, death,
Fly away, fly away, breath;
0, prepare it ;
Did share it.
Not a friend, not a friend greet
Lay me, 0, where
To weep there.
Duke. There's for thy pains.
Clo. Truly, sir, an pleasure will be paid, one time or another.
Duke, Give me now leave to leave thee.
Clo. Now, the melancholy god protect thee; and the tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffata, for thy mind is a very opal*~I would have men of such constancy put to sea, that their business might be every thing, and their intent every where ; for that's it, that always makes a good voyage of nothing. Farewell.
[Exit Clown. Drake. Let all the rest give place.
[Ereunt Curio and Attendants.
Once more, Cesario,
* A precious stone of all colours.
Get thee to yon' same sovereign cruelty:
Vio. But, if she cannot love you, sir?
'Sooth, but you must.
Duke. There is no woman's sides,
Ay, but I know,
Vio. Too well what love women to men may owe: In faith, they are as true of heart as we. My father had a daughter lov'd a man, As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman, I should your lordship. Duke.
And what's her history? Vio. A blank, my lord: She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek: she pin'd in thought; And, with a green and yellow melancholy, She sat like patience on a monument,