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Mal. I extend my hand to him thus; quenching my familiar fmile with an auftere regard of controul. Sir To. And does not Toby take you a blow o'th' lips then?

Mal. Saying, uncle Toby, my fortunes having caft me on your Neice, give me this prerogative of fpeech

Sir To. What, what?

Mal. You must amend your drunkenness.

Sir To. Out, fcab!

Fab. Nay, patience, or we break the finews of our plot.

Mal. Befides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish Knight

Sir And. That's me, I warrant you.

Mal. One Sir Andrew,

Sir And. I knew, 'twas I; for many do call me Fool.

2

Mal. What employment have we here?

Fab. Now is the woodcock Sir To. Oh peace! now the timate reading aloud to him!

the Letter

[Taking up near the gin. fpirit of humours in

Mal. By my life, this is my Lady's hand: these be her very C's, her U's, and her T's, and thus makes The her great P's. It is, in contempt of question, her hand.

There is fome conceit, I fuppofe, in this, as in many other of his alterations, yet it oft lies fo deep that the reader has reafon to wish he could have explained his own meaning.

2 What employment have we here?] A phrafe of that time, equivalent to our common fpeech of-What's to do here. The Ox ford Editor, not attending to this, alters it to

What implement have we here?

By which happy emendation, he makes Malvolio to be in the plot against himself; or how could he know that this letter was an implement made ufe of to catch him?

Sir And.

Sir And. Her C's, her U's, and her T's: why that?

Mal. To the unknown belov'd, this, and my good wishes; her very phrafes: By your leave, wax. Soft! and the impreffure her Lucrece, with which fhe ufes to feal; 'tis my Lady: to whom should this be? Fab. This wins him, liver and all.

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Mal. Jove knows I love, but who, lips do not move, no man must know. No man muft know what fol lows? the number's alter'd no man must knowif this fhould be thee, Malvolio?

Sir To. Marry, hang thee, Brock!

Mal. I may command where I adore, but filence, like a
Lucrece knife,

With bloodless ftroke my heart doth gore, M. O. A. I. doth fway my life.

Fab. A fuftian riddle.

Sir To. Excellent wench, fay I.

Mal. M. O. A. I. doth fway my life

firft, let me fee

let me fee

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nay, but Fab. What a difh of poifon has fhe dress'd him? Sir To. And with what wing the ftanyel checks at it?

Mal. I may command where I adore. Why, fhe may command me: I ferve her, fhe is my Lady. Why, this is evident to any 3 formal capacity. There is no obftruction in this and the end what fhould that alphabetical pofition portend? if I could make that refemble fomething in me? foftly -M. O.

A. I.

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Sir To. O, ay! make up that; he is now at a cold fcent.

Fab. Sowter will cry upon't for all this, tho' it be

as rank as a fox.

Mal. M.-Malvolio M.
M.why, that begins

my name.

3 formal capacity.] Formal, for common.

Fab.

Fab. Did not I fay, he would work it out? the cur is excellent at faults.

Mal. M. But then there is no confonancy in the fequel, That fuffers under probation: A fhould fol low, but O does.

Fab. And Ofhall end, I hope.

Sir To. Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make him cry, O.

Mal. And then I comes behind.

Fab. Ay, and you had any eye behind you, you might fee more detraction at your heels than fortunes

before you.

Mal, M. O. A. I.4 this fimulation is not as the former and yet to crufh this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of thefe letters is in my name. Soft, here follows profe If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my ftars I am above thee, but be not afraid of greatness; fome are born great, fome atchieve greatnefs, and fome have greatness thrust upon them. Thy fates open their hands, let thy blood and fpirit embrace them and to inure thyself to what thou art like to be, caft thy humble flough, and appear fresh. Be oppofite with a kinfman, furly with fervants: let thy tongue tang arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of fingularity. She thus advises thee, that fighs for thee. Remember who commended thy yellow ftockings, and wish'd to fee thee ever cross-garter'd. I fay, remember; go to, thou art made, if thou defireft to be fo: if not, let me fee thee a freward ftill, the fellow of fervants, and not worthy to touch fortunes' fingers. Farewel. She, that would alter fervices with thee, the fortunate and happy. Day-light and champian difcover no more: this is

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4 this fimulation] Simulation, for resemblance.

5 with thee. The fortunate and happy day-light and champian difcovers no more:] Wrong pointed: We fhould read,-with thee, the fortunate and happy. Day-light and champian difcover no more: i. e. Broad day and an open country cannot make things plainer.

open.

open. I will be proud, I will read politick authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wafh off grofs acquaintance, I will be point devife, the very man. I do not now fool myself, to let imagination jade me; for every reafon excites to this, that my Lady loves me. She did commend my yellow ftockings of late, the did praise my leg, being crofs-garter'd, and in this fhe manifefts herself to my love, and with a kind of injunction drives me to thefe habits of her liking. thank my stars, I am happy: I will be strange, ftout, in yellow ftockings, and cross-garter'd, even with the fwiftness of putting on. Jove, and my ftars be praised!

Here is yet a poftfcript. Thou canst not chufe but know who I am; if thou entertaineft my love, let it appear in thy fmiling; thy fmiles become thee well. Therefore in my prefence ftill fmile, dear my sweet, I pr'ythee. Jove, I thank thee! I will fmile, I will do every thing that thou wilt have me.

[Exit. Fab. I will not give my part of this fport for a penfion of thoufands to be paid from the Sophy. Sir To. I could marry this wench for this device. Sir And. So could I too.

Sir To. And ask no other dowry with her, but fuch another jest.

SCENE

Enter Maria.

Sir And. Nor I neither.

IX.

Fab. Here comes my noble gull-catcher.
Sir To. Wilt thou fet thy foot o' my neck?

Sir And. Or o' mine either?

Sir To. Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and become thy bond-slave?

Sir And. I'faith, or I either?

Sir To.

Sir To. Why, thou haft put him in fuch a dream, that when the image of it leaves him, he must run mad..

Mar. Nay, but fay true, does it work upon him? Sir. To. Like Aqua vite with a midwife.

Mar. If you will then fee the fruits of the fport, mark his first approach before my Lady: he will come to her in yellow ftockings, and 'tis a colour she abhors; and crofs-garter'd, a fafhion fhe detefts; and he will fmile upon her, which will now be fo un fuitable to her difpofition, being addicted to a melancholy, as he is, that it cannot but turn him into a notable contempt: if you will fee it, follow me.

Sir To. To the gates of Tartar; thou moft excellent devil of wit!

Sir And. I'll make one too.

[Exeunt..

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ACT III. SCENE I.

OLIVIA's Garden.:

Enter Viola, and Clown,

VIOLA.

AVE thee, Friend, and thy mufick: doft thou live by thy Tabor?

Clo. No, Sir, I live by the Church.

Vio. Art thou a Churchman?

Clo. No fuch matter, Sir; I do live by the Church: for I do live at my Houfe, and my House doth ftand by the Church.

Vio. So thou may'ft fay, the King lyes by a Beg gar, if a Beggar dwell near him: or the Church ftands by thy Tabor, if thy Tabor ftand by the Church. VOL. III.

M

Clo.

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