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Vio. On your attendance, my Lord, here.
Duke. Stand you a-while aloof.-Cefario,
Thou know'ft no lefs, but all: I have unclafp'd
To thee the book even of my secret soul.

Therefore, good youth, address thy gate unto her ;
Be not deny'd accefs, ftand at her doors,
And tell them, there thy fixed foot fhall grow,
'Till thou have audience.

Vio. Sure, my noble Lord,

If the be fo abandon'd to her forrow

As it is fpoke, fhe never will admit me.

Duke. Be clamorous, and leap all civil bounds, Rather than make unprofited return.

Vio. Say, I do fpeak with her, my Lord; what then? Duke. O, then, unfold the paffion of my love, Surprize her with difcourfe of my dear faith; It fhall become thee well to act my woes; She will attend it better in thy youth, Than in a Nuncio of more grave afpect. Vio. I think not fo, my Lord.

Duke. Dear lad, believe it:

For they fhall yet belie thy happy years,
That fay, thou art a man: Diana's lip

Is not more smooth and rubious; thy fmall pipe
Is as the maiden's organ, fhrill, and found,
And all is femblative a woman's part.
I know, thy Conftellation is right apt
For this affair: fome four or five attend him
All, if you will; for I my felf am best

When leaft in company. Profper well in this,
And thou fhalt live as freely as thy Lord,
To call his fortunes thine.

Vio. I'll do my best

To woo your Lady; yet, a barrful ftrife!

Who-e'er I woo, my felf would be his wife. [Exeunt.

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SCENE

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SCENE VI.

Changes to Olivia's Houfe.

Enter Maria and Clown.

AY, either tell me where thou hast been,

Mar. Nor

will not open my lips fo wide as a

bristle may enter, in way of thy excufe; my Lady will hang thee for thy abfence.

Clo. Let her hang me; he, that is well hang'd in this world, needs fear no colours.

Mar. Make That good.

Clo. He fhall fee none to fear.

Mar. A good lenten anfwer: I can tell thee where that faying was born, of, I fear no colours. Clo. Where, good mistress Mary?

Mar. In the wars; and that may you be bold to fay in you foolery.

Clo. Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and thofe that are fools, let them use their talents.

Mar. Yet you will be hang'd for being fo long abfent, or be turn'd away; is not that as good as a hanging to you?

Clo. Marry, a good hanging prevents a bad marriage; and for turning away, let fummer bear it out. Mar. You are refolute then?

Clo. Not fo neither, but I am refolv'd on two points.

Mar. That if one break, the other will hold; or, if Both break, your gaskins fall.

Clo. Apt, in good faith; very apt : well, go thy way, if Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria.

Mar. Peace, you rogue, no more o' that. here comes my Lady; make your excufe wifely, you were beft.. [Exit. SCENE

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Enter Olivia, and Malvolio.

Clo. Wit, and't be thy will, put me into a good fooling! thofe wits, that think they have thee, do very oft prove fools ; and I, that am fure lack thee, may pafs for a wife man. For what fays Quinapalus, Better be a witty fool than a foolish wit. God bless thee, Lady!

Oli. Take the fool away.

Clo. Do you not hear, fellows? take away the Lady. Oli. Go to, y'are a dry fool; I'll no more of you; befides, you grow dishoneft.

Clo. Two faults, Madona, that drink and good counfel will amend; for give the dry fool drink, then is the fool not dry: Bid the dishonest man mend himfelf, if he mend, he is no longer difhoneft; if he cannot, let the botcher mend him. Any thing, that's mended, is but patch'd; virtue, that tranfgreffes, is but patch'd with fin; and fin, that amends, is but patch'd with virtue. If that this fimple fyllogifm will ferve, fo; if it will not, what remedy? as there is no true cuckold but calamity, fo beauty's a flower,: the Lady bad take away the fool, therefore, I fay again, take her away.

Oli. Sir, I bad them take away you.

Clo. Mifprifion in the highest degree.-Lady, Cucullus non facit monachum; that's as much as to fay, I wear not motley in my brain good Madona, give me leave to prove you a fool.

Oli. Can you do it?

Clo. Dexterously, good Madona.

Oli. Make your proof.

Clo. I muft catechize you for it, Madona; good my moufe of virtue, anfwer me.

Oli. Well, Sir, for want of other idleness, I'll bide your proof. VOL. III.

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Clo. Good Madona, why mourn'ft thou?
Oli. Good fool, for my brother's death.
Clo. I think, his foul is in hell, Madona.
Oli. I know, his foul is in heav'n, fool.

Clo. The more fool you, Madona, to mourn for your brother's foul being in heav'n take away the fool, Gentlemen.

Oli. What think you of this fool,

he not mend?

Malvolio, doth

Mal. Yes, and fhall do, 'till the pangs of death shake him. Infirmity, that decays the wife, doth ever make better the fool.

Clo. God fend you, Sir, a fpeedy infirmity, for the better increafing your folly! Sir Toby will be fworn, that I am no fox; but he will not pafs his word for two pence, that you are no fool.

Oli. How fay you to that, Malvolio?

Mal. I marvel, your Ladyfhip takes delight in fuch a barren rafcal; I faw him put down the other day with an ordinary fool, that has no more brain than a ftone. Look you now, he's out of his guard already; unless you laugh and minifter occafion to him, he is gagg'd. I proteft, I take these wife men, that crow fo at these fet kind of fools, no better than the fools' Zanies.

Oli. O, you are fick of felf-love, Malvolio, and tafte with a diftemper'd appetite. To be generous, guiltlefs, and of free difpofition, is to take thofe things for birdbolts that you deem cannon-bullets: there is no flander in an allow'd fool, though he do nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known difcreet man, though he do nothing but reprove.

Clo. 9 Now Mercury indue thee with pleafing, for thou speak'it well of fools!

Enter

9 Now Mercury indue thee with LEASING, for thou speak' ft well of fools! This is a ftupid blunder. We fhould read, with PLEAS ENG, . . with eloquence, make thee a gracious and powerful

fpeaker,

Enter Maria.

Mar. Madam, there is at the gate a young Gentleman, much defires to fpeak with you.

Oli. From the Count Orfino, is it? Mar. I know not, Madam, 'tis a fair and well attended.

fair young

Oli. Who of my people hold him in delay?
Mar. Sir Toby, Madam, your Uncle.

Man,

Oli. Fetch him off, I pray you, he fpeaks nothing but madman: fie on him! Go you, Malvolio; if it be a fuit from the Count, I am fick, or not at home: What you will, to difmifs it. [Exit Malvolio.] Now you fee, Sir, how your fooling grows old, and people diflike it.

Clo. Thou haft fpoke for us, Madona, as if thy eldeft Son fhould be a fool: whofe fcull Jove cram with brains, for here comes one of thy Kin has a moft weak Pia Mater!

SCENE VIII.
Enter Sir Toby.

Oli. By mine honour, half drunk. What is he at the gate, Uncle?

Sir To. A Gentleman.

Oli. A Gentleman? what Gentleman ?

fpeaker, for Mercury was the God of orators as well as cheats. But the first Editors, who did not understand the phrafe, indue thee with pleafing, made this foolish correction; more excufable, however, than the last Editor's, who, when this emendation was pointed out to him, would make one of his own; and fo in his Oxford edition, reads, with LEARNING; without troubling himself to fatisfy the reader how the first editor fhould blunder in a word fo eafy to be understood as learning, tho' they well might in the word pleafing, as it is used in this place.

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