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Sir To. I have been dear to him, Lad, some two thousand strong or so.
Fab. We shall have a rare Letter from him ; but you'll not deliver't.
Sir To. Never trust 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 so much blood in his liver as will clog the foot of a flea, I'll eat the rest of th'anatomy.
Fab. And his Opposite, the Youth, bears in his visage no great presage of cruelty.
Enter Maria. Sir To. Look, where the youngest Wren of nine i Mar. If you desire the spleen, and will laugh your selves into stitches, follow me; yond gull Malvolio is turned Heathen, a very Renegado ; for there is no Christian, that means to be fav'd by believing rightly, can ever believe such impossible passages of grossness. He's in yellow Stockings.;
Sir Tó. And cross-garter'd ?
Mar. Most villanously, like a Pedant that keeps a school i'ch' 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 smile his face into more lines than is in the new Map, with the augmentation of the Indies; you have not seen such a thing, as ’tis; I can hardly forbear hurling things at him. I know, my Lady will strike him; if the do, he'll smile, and take't for a great favour. Sir To. Come, bring us, bring us where he is.
SCENE changes to the Street.
Enter Sebastian, and Anthonio.
But since you make your pleasure of your pains, I will no further chide
you. Ant. I could not stay behind you, my desire, (More sharp than filed steel,) did fpur me forth; and not all love to see you, (tho' so much, As might have drawn one to a longer voyage.) But jealousie what might befall your Travel, Being skilless in these Parts; which to a stranger, Unguided and unfriended, often prove Rough and unhospitable. My willing love, The rather by these arguments of fear, Set forth in your pursuit.
Seb. My kind Anthonio, (14) I can no other answer make, but thanks; and thanks, and ever thanks; and oft good turns Are shuffled off with such uncurrent pay; But were my worth, as is my conscience, firm, You should find better dealing: what's to do? Shall we go see the Relicks of this Town? Ant. To morrow, Sir; beft, first, go see your lodg
(14) I can no other Answer make but Thanks,
And thanks : and ever-oft good Turns
Are sufled off with such uncurrent Pay;] It must be obvious to every Reader, who has the least Knowledge in Versification, that the fecond Line is too short by a whole Foot ; however the Editors have indolently pass'd it over without Suspicion. Then, who ever heard of this goodly double Adverb, ever-oft, which seems to have as much Propriety as, always-sometimes? As I have reftor'd the Passage, it is very much in our Author's Manner, and Mode of Expression. 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,
Seb. I am not weary, and 'tis long to night ;
Ant. Would, you'd pardon me:
Seb. Belike, you flew great number of his people,
Ant. Th' offence is not of such a bloody nature,
Seb. Do not, then walk too open.
Ant. It doth not fit me: hold, Sir, here's my purse,
Seb. Why I your purse?
Ant. Haply, your eye shall light upon 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
Ant. To th' Elephant.--
SCENE changes to Olivia's House.
Oli. (15) I ?'
Enter Olivia, and Maria,
Mar. He's coming, Madam : but in very strange
He is sure poffeft, Madam.
Oli. Why, what's the matter, does he rave?
Mar. No, Madam, he does nothing but smile; your Ladyship were best to have some guard about you, if he come; for, sure, the man is tainted in's wits.
Oli. Go call him hither.
Mal. Sweet Lady, ha, ha. [Smiles fantastically.
Oli. Smilft thou? I sent for thee upon a sad occaLion.
(15) I hava fent after him; he says he'll come.] But Who did he say fo to? Or from whom could my Lady have any luch 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 Suspense, and deliberating with herself: putting the Supposition that he would come; and asking Herself, in that Cafe, how she should entertain him. I imagine therefore the Poet wrote ;
Say, he will come ; So Viola, before, in this Play ;
Say, I do speak with her, my Lord; wbat 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 Passages.
Mal. Sad, Lady? I could be fad ; this does make fome 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 Sonner is : Please one, and Óli
. Why ? how dost 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 Thall be executed. I think, we do know that sweet Ro
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?
Mar. Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my Lady.
Mal. Be not afraid of Greatness; 'twas well writ,
Mal. Remember, who commended thy yellow Stock-
Mal. Go to, thou art made, if thou desirest to be so
Oli. Am I made?