Sir To. I have been dear to him, Lad, fome two thousand strong or fo.:

Fab. We fhall have a rare Letter from him; but you'll not deliver't.

Sir To. Never truft me then; and by all means ftir on the Youth to an answer. I think, oxen and wainropes cannot hale them together. For Andrew, if he were open'd, and you find fo much blood in his liver as will clog the foot of a flea, I'll eat the reft of th' anatomy.

Fab. And his Oppofite, the Youth, bears in his vifage no great prefage of cruelty.

Enter Maria.

Sir To. Look, where the youngest Wren of nine

comes.

Mar. If you defire the spleen, and will laugh your felves into stitches, follow me; yond gull Malvolio is turned Heathen, a very Renegado; for there is no Chriftian, that means to be fav'd by believing rightly, can ever believe fuch impoffible paffages of grofsnefs. He's in yellow Stockings.

Sir To. And cross-garter'd?

Mar. Moft villanoufly; like a Pedant that keeps a school i'th' Church: I have dogg'd him, like his murtherer. He does obey every point of the Letter, that I dropt to betray him; he does fmile his face into more lines than is in the new Map, with the augmentation of the Indies; you have not feen fuch a thing, as 'tis; I can hardly forbear hurling things at him. I know, my Lady will ftrike him; if the do, he'll fmile, and take't for a great favour.

Sir To. Come, bring us, bring us where he is.

[Exeunt.

SCENE

SCENE changes to the Street.

Enter Sebaftian, and Anthonio.

Would not by my will have troubled you. But fince you make your pleasure of your pains, I will no further chide you.

I

Seb.

Ant. I could not stay behind you, my defire,
(More sharp than filed fteel,) did fpur me forth;
And not all love to fee you, (tho' fo much,
As might have drawn one to a longer voyage.)
But jealoufie what might befall your Travel,
Being skillefs in these Parts; which to a stranger,
Unguided and unfriended, often prove
Rough and unhofpitable. My willing love,
The rather by these arguments of fear,
Set forth in your pursuit.

Seb. My kind Anthonio,

(14) I can no other anfwer make, but thanks;
And thanks, and ever thanks; and oft good turns
Are fhuffled off with such uncurrent pay;
But were my worth, as is my confcience, firm,
You should find better dealing: what's to do?
Shall we go fee the Relicks of this Town?

Ant. To morrow, Sir; beft, firft, go fee your lodg

ing.

(14) I can no other Anfwer make but Thanks, And thanks: and ever-oft good Turns

Are fhuffled off with fuch uncurrent Pay ;] It must be obvious to every Reader, who has the leaft Knowledge in Verfification, that the second Line is too fhort by a whole Foot; however the Editors have indolently pafs'd it over without Sufpicion. Then, who ever heard of this goodly double Adverb, ever-oft, which feems to have as much Propriety as, always-fometimes? As I have reftor'd the Paffage, it is very much in our Author's Manner, and Mode of Expreffion. So, in Cymbeline; Since when I have been Debtor to You for Courtefies, which I will be ever to pay, and yet pay ftill. And in All's well, that Ends well.

And let me buy your friendly Help thus far,
Which I will over-pay, and pay again
When I have found it.

Seb.

Seb. I am not weary, and 'tis long to night;
I pray you, let us fatisfie our eyes
With the Memorials, and the things of Fame,
That do renown this City.

Ant. Would, you'd pardon me:

I do not without danger walk thefe Streets.
Once, in a Sea-fight gainst the Duke his Gallies,
I did fome fervice, of fuch note, indeed,

That were I ta'en here, it would fcarce be anfwer'd.
Seb. Belike, you flew great number of his people.
Ant. Th' offence is not of fuch a bloody nature,
Albeit the quality of the time and quarrel
Might well have given us bloody argument:
It might have fince been anfwer'd in repaying
What we took from them, which, for Traffick's fake,
Most of our City did. Only my felf stood out;
For which, if I be lapfed in this place,

I fhall pay dear.

Seb. Do not then walk too open.

Ant. It doth not fit me: hold, Sir, here's my purse. In the fouth fuburbs at the Elephant

Is beft to lodge: I will befpeak our diet,
Whiles you beguile the time, and feed your know-
ledge

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

Ant. Haply, your eye fhall light upon some toy
You have defire 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.

Ant. To th' Elephant.-

Seb. I do remember.

[Exeunt.

SCENE

SCENE changes to Olivia's House.

Enter Olivia, and Maria.

Have fent after him; fay, he will come; How fhall I feaft him? what beftow on him?

For youth is bought more oft, than begg'd or borrow'd. I fpeak too loud.

Where is Malvolio? he is fad and civil,

And fuits well for a fervant with

Oli. (15) I

my fortunes.

Where is Malvolio?

Mar. He's coming, Madam: but in very ftrange

manner.

He is fure poffeft, Madam.

Oli. Why, what's the matter, does he rave? Mar. No, Madam, he does nothing but fmile; your Ladyfhip were beft to have fome guard about you, if he come; for, fure, the man is tainted in's 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.

(15) I have fent after him; he fays he'll come.] But Who did he say fo to? Or from Whom could my Lady have any fuch Intelligence? Her Servant, employ'd upon this Errand, was not yet return'd; and, when he does return, he brings Word, that the Youth would hardly be intreated back. I am perfuaded, She was intended rather to be in Sufpenfe, and deliberating with herself: putting the Suppofition that he would come; and asking Herself, in that Cafe, how She fhould entertain him. I imagine therefore the Poet wrote;

Say, I do fpeak with her, my Lord; what then?

So Petruchio in the Taming of the Shrew;

Say, that She rail; why, then I'll tell her plain, &c. And in numberless other Paffages.

Mal.

Mal. Sad, Lady? I could be fad; this does make fome obftruction 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: Pleafe one, and please all.

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

S⠀

Mal. Not black in my mind, tho' yellow in my legs: it did come to his hands, and Commands fhall be executed. I think, we do know that fweet Roman hand.

Oli. Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio?

Mal. To bed? ay, fweet 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 anfwer Daws!

Mar. Why appear you with this ridiculous boldnefs before my Lady.

Mal. Be not afraid of Greatnefs; -'twas well writ. Oli. What meaneft thou by that, Malvolio?

Mal. Some are born Great

Oli. Ha?

Mal. Some atchieve Greatness

Oli. What fay'ft thou?

Mal. And fome have Greatness thruft upon them
Oli. Heav'n reftore thee!

Mal. Remember, who commended thy yellow Stock

ings

Oli. Thy yellow Stockings?

Mal. And wifh'd to fee thee cross-garter'd

Oli. Cross-garter'd?

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

fo

Oli. Am I made?

Mal. If not, let me fee thee a fervant ftill.
Oli. Why, this is very midfummer madness.

Enter