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means for this uncivil rule; she shall know of it, by this hand.

[Exit. Mar. Go fhake your ears.

Sir And. 'T'were as good a deed as to drink when a man's a hungry, to challenge him to the field, and then to break promise with him, and make a fool of him.

Sir To. Do't, Knight. I'll write thee a challenge: or I'll deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth.

Mar. Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for to night ; since the youth of the Duke's was to day with my Lady, she is much out of quiet. For Monsieur Malvolio, let me alone with him: if I do not gull him into a nay.word, and make him a common recreation, do not think, I have wit enough to lie straight in my bed : I know, I can do it.

Sir To. Poffefs us, poffefs us, tell us something of him. Mar. Marry, Sir, sometimes he is a kind of a Pu

ritan. Sir And. O, if I thought that, I'd beat him like a dog.

Sir To. What, for being a Puritan? thy exquisite reafon, dear Knight.

Sir And. I have no exquisite reason for't, but I have reason good enough.

Mar. The devil a Puritan that he is, or any thing constantly but a time-pleaser; an affection'd ass, that cons state without book, and utters it by great swarths : the best persuaded of himself: fo cram'd, as he thinks, with excellencies, that it is his ground of faith, that all that look on him, love him; and on that vice in him will my revenge find notable cause to work,

Sir Te. What wilt thou do?

Mar. I will drop in his way fome obscure epistles of love, wherein, by the colour of his beard, the shape of his leg, the manner of his gate, the expressure of his eye, forehead, and complexion, he shall find himself most feelingly personated. I can write very like my Lady your Neice; on a forgotten matter we can hardly make diftinction of our hands. Sir To. Excellent, I smell a device.

Sir

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Sir Ard. I have't in my nose too.

Sir To. He shall think by the letters, that thou wilt drop, that they come from my Neice, 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 an ass.
Mar. Ass, I doubt not.
Sir And. O, 'twill be admirable.

Mar. Sport royal, I warrant you: I know, my phy. siçk 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. Farewel.

[Exit. Sir To. Good night, Penthifilea. 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 ador'd once too.

Sir To. Let's to bed, Knight : thou hads need send for more mony.

Sir And. If I cannot recover your Neice, I am a fool

way out.

Sir To. Send for mony, Knight; if thou haft her not i'th'end, call me cut.

Sir And. If I do not, never trust me, take it how you will.

Sir To. Come, come, I'll go burn fome fack, 'tis too late to go to bed now : come, Knight ; come, Knight.

[Exeunt. SCENE changes to the Palace.

Enter Duke, Viola, Curio, and others.
Duke. VIVE me some mufick; now, good morrow,

friends :
Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song,
That old and antique fong, we heard last night ;
Methought, it did relieve my passion much;
More than light airs, and recollected terms
Of these most hrisk and giddy-paced times
Come, but one verse.

Cur.

Cur. He is not here, so please your Lordship, that hould sing it.

Duke. Who was it?

Cur. Fefte, the jelier, my Lord, a fool that the Lady Olivia's father took much delight in. He is about the house. Duke. Seek him out, and play the tune the while.

[Ex. Curio. [Musick. Come hither, boys if ever thou shalt love, In the sweet pangs of it, remember me ; For such as I am, all true lovers are ; Unstaid and skittish in all motions else, Save in the constant image of the creature That is belov'd. How dost thou like this tune ?

Vio. It gives a very echo to the seat
Where love is thron'd.

Duke. Thou dost speak mafterly.
My life upon't, young tho' thou art, thine era
Hath ftaid upon some favour that it loves :
Hath it not, boy!

Vio. A little, by your favour.
Duke. What kind of woman is't?
Vio. Of your complexion.
Duke. She is not worth thee then. What years, i'faith?
Vio. About your years, my Lord.

Duke. Too old, by heav'n ; let still the woman take
An elder than her self, so wears she to him ;
So sways the level in her husband's heart.
For, boy, however we do praise our selves,
Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,
More longing, wavering, sooner loft and worn,
Than women's are.

Vio. I think it well, my lord.

Duke. Then let thy love be younger than thy self;
Or thy affection cannot hold the bent :
For women are as roses, whose fair flower,
Being once display'd, doth fall that very hour.

Vio. And so they are: alas, that they are so,
To die, even when they to perfection grow!

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Enter Curio and Clown.
Duke. O fellow, come; the song we had last night,
Mark it, Cefario, it is old and plain ;
The spinsters and the knitters in the sun,
And the free maids that weave their thread with bones,
Do use to chant it: it is filly footh,
And dallies with the innocence of love,
Like the old age.

Clo. Are you ready, Sir ?
Duke. Ay; pr’ythee, sing.

[Mufck. SON G.. Come away, come away, death,

And in fad cypress let me be laid;
Fly away, fly away, breath,

I am sain by a fair cruel maid.
My hrowd of white, ftuck all with geni',

O, prepare it.
Nly part of death no one so true

Did Mare it.
Not a flower, not a flower sweet,

On my black coffin let there be Arown:
Not a friend, not a friend greet

My poor corps, where my bones fall be thrown.
A thousand thousand fighs to save,

Lay me, O! where
True lover never find my grave,

To weep there.
Duke. There's for thy pains.
Clo. No pains, Sir; I take pleasure in singing, Sir.
Duke. I'll pay thy pleasure then.
Clo. Truly, Sir, and pleasure will be paid one time

or other.

Duke. Give me now leave to leave thee.

Clo. Now the melancholy God protect thee, and the taylor 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 bufiness might be every thing, and their intent every where ; for that's it, that always makes a good voyage of nothing. Farewel. [Exit. Duke. Let all the rest give place. Once more, Ce

sario,
Get thee to yond fame fovereign cruelty :
Tell her, my love, more noble than the world,
Prizes not quantity of dirty lands;
The parts, that fortune hath bestow'd

upon her,
Tell her, I hold as giddily as fortune :
But 'tis that miracle, and Queen of Gems,
That nature pranks her in, attracts my soul.

Vie. But if the cannot love you, Sir-
Duke. It cannot be fo answer'd.

Vis. Sooth, but you muft.
Say, that some Lady, as, perhaps, there is,
Hath for

your
love

as great a pang of heart
As you have for Olivia: you cannot love her ; ;
You tell her so; muft the not then be answer'd?

Duke. There is no woman's fides
Can bide the beating of so strong a passion,
As love doth give my heart: no woman's heart
So big to hold so much; they lack retention.
Alas, their love may be call'd appetite:
No motion of the liver, but the palate,
That suffers surfeit, cloyment, and revolt;
But mine is all as hungry as the sea,
And can digest as much ; make no compare :
Between that love a woman can bear me,
And that I owe Olivia.

Vio. Ay, but I know-
Duke. What doft thou 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'ch'bud,

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