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And fuits well for a fervant with my fortunes.

Where is Malvolio?

MAR. He's coming, Madam; but in very strange manHe is fure poffeft, Madam,

OLI. Why, what's the matter, does he rave?

[ner.

MAR. No, Madam, he does nothing but smile; your ladyship were best to have some guard about you, if he come; for, fure the man is tainted in his wits.

OLI. Go call him hither.

Enter Malvolio.

I'm as mad as he,

If fad and merry madness equal be.

How now, Malvolio?

MAL. Sweet lady, ha, ha.

[Smiles fantastically.

OLI. Smil'ft thou? I fent for thee upon a fad occafion. MAL. Sad, lady? I could be fad; this does make fome obstruction in the blood; this cross-gartering; but what of it; if it please the eye of One, it is with me as the very true fonnet is: "Pleafe one, and please all."

OLI. Why? how doft thou, man? what is the matter with thee?

MAL. Not black in my mind, tho' yellow in my legs: it did come to his hands, and commands shall be executed. I think, we do know that 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 doft thou fmile fo, and kifs thy hand fo 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?

MAL. Some atchieve greatnefs

OLI. What fay'st thou?

MAL. And fome have greatness thrust upon them

OLI. Heav'n restore thee!

MAL. Remember who commended thy yellow stockings.

OLI. Thy yellow stockings?

MAL. And wish'd to fee thee crofs-garter'd

OLI. Cross-garter'd?

MAL. Go to, thou art made, if thou defireft to be foOLI. Am I made ?

MAL. If not, let me fee thee a fervant ftill.

OLI. Why, this is a very midsummer madness.

Enter Servant.

SER. Madam, the young gentleman of the duke Orfino's is return'd; I could hardly entreat him back; he attends your ladyship's pleasure.

OLI. I'll come to him. Good Maria, let this fellow be look'd to. Where's my uncle Toby? let some of my people have a special care of him; I would not have him miscarry for half of my dowry. [Exit.

SCENE VIII.

MAL. Oh, oh! do you come near me now? no worse man than fir Toby to look to me this concurs directly with the letter; the fends him on purpofe that I may appear stub

born to him; for the incites me to that in the letter., Caft thy humble flough, fays fhe,- -be opposite with a kinfman,furly with fervants,let thy tongue tang with arguments of state, put thyself into the trick of fingularity; and confequently fet down the manner how; as a fad face, a reverend carriage, a flow tongue, in the habit of fome fir of note, and fo forth. I have lim'd her, but it is Jove's doing, and Jove make me thankful! and when she went away now, let this fellow be look'd 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 fcruple, no obftacle, no incredulous or unfafe circumstance-what can be faid? 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.

SCENE IX. Enter Sir Toby, Fabian, and Maria.

Sir To. Which way is he in the name of fanctity? if all the devils in hell be drawn in little, and legion himself poffeft him, yet I'll speak to him.

FAB. Here he is, here he is; how is't with you, fir? how is't with you, man?

MAL. Go off; I difcard you; let me enjoy my privacy: go off.

MAR. Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did nct I tell you? fir Toby, my lady prays you to have a care of him.

MAL. Ah, ha! does the fo!

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 you know what you fay ?

MAR. La, you! if you speak ill of the devil, how he takes it at heart.-Pray God, he be not bewitch'd.

FAB. Carry his water to th' wife woman.

MAR. Tarry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning if I live. My lady would not lose him for more than I'll fay. › MAL. How now; mistress?

MAR. O lord!

Sir To. Pry'thee, hold thy peace: that's not the way: do you not fee, you move him? let me alone, with him. FAB. No way but gentleness, gently, gently; the fiend is rough, and will not be roughly us'd.

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

MAL. Sir?

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

MAR. Get him to fay his prayers, good fir Toby; get him to pray.

MAL. My prayers, minx!

MAR. No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godlinefs. MAL. Go hang yourselves all: you are idle fhallow things; I am not of your element, you shall know more hereafter.

Sir To. Is't poffible?

FAB. If this were plaid upon a stage now,

demn it as an improbable fiction.

[Exit.

I could con

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

MAR, Nay, pursue him now left 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.

SCENE X. Enter Sir Andrew.

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 fo fawcy?

Sir AND. Ay, is't? I warrant him: do but read.

Sir To. Give me.

[Sir Toby reads. "Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art but a scurvy fel"low."

FAB. Good and valiant.

Sir To. "Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind why I "do call thee fo; for I will fhew thee no reason for't." FAB. A good note: that keeps you from the blow of the law.

Sir To.

Thou com'ft to the lady Olivia, and in my << fight she uses thee kindly; but thou lieft in thy throat, that is not the matter I challenge thee for."

66

FAB. Very brief, and exceeding good fenfe-less.

Sir To. "I will way-lay thee going home, where if it be thy chance to kill me

FAB. Good.

Sir To. "Thou kill'st me like a rogue and a villain." FAB. Still you keep o'th' windy fide of the law: good.

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