What ho, Malvolio,

Enter Malvolio.

MAL. Here, madam, at your service.
OLI. Run after that fame peevish meffenger,
The duke's man; he left this ring behind him,
Would I, or not tell him, I'll none of it.
Defire him not to flatter with his lord,

Nor hold him up with hopes; I am not for him :
If that the youth will come this way to-morrow,
I'll give him reafons for't. Hye thee, Malvolio.
MAL. Madam, I will.

OLI. I do, I know not what: and fear to find
Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind:
Fate, fhew thy force ourselves we do not owe;
What is decreed, muft be: and be this fo!

ACT II.

SCENE I.

The Street.

[Exit.

W

Enter Antonio and Sebastian.

ANTONIO.

ILL you ftay no longer? nor will you not that I go with you.

SEB. By your patience, no: my ftars fhine darkly over me; the malignancy of my fate might, perhaps, dislemper yours; therefore I fhall crave of you your leave, that I may hear my evils alone. It were a bad recompence of your love, to lay any of them on you.

ANT. Let me yet know of you, whither you are bound. SEB. No, in footh, fir, my determinate voyage is meer extravagancy but I perceive in you fo excellent a touch of modefty, that you will not extort from me what I am wil

Ting to keep in; therefore it charges me in manners the rether to express myself: you must know of me then, Antonio, my name is Sebastian; which I call'd Rodorigo; my father was that Sebaftian of Meffaline, whom, I know, you have heard of. He left behind him, myself and a fister, both born in one hour; if the heaven's had been pleas'd, would we had fo ended! but you, fir, altered that; for, fome hour before you took me from the breach of the fea, was my filter drown'd.

ANT. Alas, the day!

SEB. A lady, fir, tho' it was faid fhe much refembled me, was yet of many accounted beautiful, but tho' I could not with such estimable wonder over-far believe that, yet thus far I will boldly publish her, the bore a mind that envy could not but call fair fhe is drown'd already, fir, with falt water, tho' I feem to drown her remembrance again with more.

ANT. Pardon me, fir, your bad entertainment.

SEB. O good Antonio, forgive me your trouble.

ANT. If you will not murther me for my love, let me be your fervant.

SEB. If you will not undo what you have done, that is, kill him whom you have recover'd, defire it not. Fare ye well at once; my bofom is full of kindness, and I am yet fo near the manners of my mother, that upon the least occasion more, mine eyes will tell tales of me: I am bound to the Duke Orfino's court; farewel.

[Exit.

ANT. The gentleness of all the gods go with thee!

I have made enemies in Orfino's court,

Elfe would I very fhortly see thee there :

But come what may, I do adore thee so,

The danger fhall feem fport, and I will go.

[Exit.

SCENE II. Enter Viola and Malvolio, at feveral doors.

MAL. Were not you e'en now with the Countess Olivia ? VIO. Even now, fir; on a moderate pace I have fince arrived but hither.

MAL. She returns this ring to you, fir; you might have faved me my pains, to have taken it away yourself. She adds moreover, that you should put your lord into a defperate affurance, fhe will none of him. And one thing more, that you never be so hardy to come again in his affairs, unlefs it be to report your lord's taking of this: receive it fo. V10. She took the ring of me, I'll none of it.

MAL. Come, fir, you peevishly threw it to her, and her
will is, it fhould be fo return'd: if it be worth ftooping for,
there it lyes in your eye; if not, be it his that finds it. [Exit.
VIO. I left no ring with her; what means this lady?
Fortune forbid, my outfide have not charm'd her!
She made good view of me; indeed, fo much,
That, fure, methought her eyes had loft her tongue :
For the did speak in starts distractedly :

She loves me, fure; the cunning of her paffion
Invites me in this churlish meffenger.

None of my lord's ring: why, he sent her none.
I am the man-If it be fo, (as, 'tis ;)
Poor lady, fhe were better love a dream.
Difguife, I fee, thou art a wickedness,
Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.
How eafie is it, for the proper falfe

In women's waxen hearts to fet their forms!
Alas our frailty is the caufe, not we,

For fuch as we are made, if fuch we be.

How will this fadge? my mafter loves her dearly,

And I, poor monster, fond as much on him;

And the, mistaken, feems to dote on me.
What will become of this? as I am man,
My state is defperate for my master's love;
As I am woman (now alas the day!)

What thriftlefs fighs fhall poor Olivia breathe?
O time, thou must untangle this, not ;

It is too hard a knot for me t' unty.

SCENE III. Changes to Olivia's house.

Enter Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew.

[Exit.

Sir To. Approach, Sir Andrew not to be a-bed after midnight, is to be up betimes; and "Diluculo furgere," thou know'ft,

Sir AND. Nay, by my troth, I know not: but I know, to be up late, is to be up late.

Sir To. A falfe conclufion: I hate it as an unfill'd can; to be up after midnight, and to go to bed then, is early; fo that to go to bed after midnight, is to go to bed betimes. Does not our life confift of the four elements.

Sir AND. 'Faith, fo they fay; but, I think, it rather confifts of eating and drinking.

Sir To. Th'art a fcholar, let us therefore eat and drink. Maria! I faya ftoop of wine.

Enter Clown.

Sir AND. Here comes the fool, i'faith.

CLO. How now, my hearts? did you never fee the picture of we three?

Sir To. Welcome afs, now let's have a catch.

Sir AND. By my troth the fool has an excellent breast. I had rather than forty fhillings I had fuch a leg, and fo fweet a breath to fing, as the fool has. In footh, thou wast

in very gracious fooling last night, when thou spok'st of Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians paffing the equinoctial of Queubus: 'twas very good, i'faith: I fent thee fixpence for thy lemon, hadft it?

CLO. I did impeticos thy gratility; for Malvolio's nofe is no whip-stock. My lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses.

Sir AND. Excellent: why, this is the beft fooling, when all is done. Now, a fong

Sir To. Come on, there's fix-pence for you. Let's have a fong.

Sir AND. There's a teftril of me too; if one knight give a

CLO. Would you have a love-fong, or a fong of good life?
Sir To. A love-fong, a love-fong.

Sir AND. Ay, ay, I care not for good life.

Clown fings.

O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
Q stay and hear, your true love's coming,
That can fing both high and low.
Trip no further, pretty sweeting,
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
Every wife man's fon doth know.
Sir AND. Excellent good, i'faith!
Sir To. Good, good.

CLO. What is love? 'tis not hereafter,

Prefent mirth hath present laughter,

What's to come is ftill unfure:

In delay there lyes no plenty,
Then come kifs me fweet, and twenty
Youth's a ftuff will not endure.