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Sir Tuby. She 'll none o' the count; she'll not Fio. You either fear his humor or my neglimatch above her degree; neither in estate, years,' gence, that you call in question the continuance of nor wit; I have heard her swear it. Tut, there's his love: Is he inconstant, sir, in his favors ? life in 't, man.

Val. No, believe me. · Sir And. I'll stay a month longer." I am a fellow o’ the strangest mind i' the world ; I delight Enter DUKE, CURIO, and Attendants. in masques and revels sometimes altogether.

Sir Toby. Art thou good at these kickshaws, Vio. I thank you. Here comes the count. knight?

Duke. Who saw Cesario, ho ? Sir And. As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he Vio. On your attendance, my lord; here. be, under the degree of my betters; and yet I Duke. Stand you awhile aloof. — Cesario, will not compare with an old man.

Thou know'st no less but all; I have unclasped Sir Toby. What is thy excellence in a galliard, To thee the book even of my secret soul: knight?

Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her; Sir And. 'Faith I can cut a caper.

Be not denied access, stand at her doors,
Sir Toby. And I can cut the mutton to 't. And tell them, there thy fixéd foot shall grow

Sir And. And I think I have the back-trick Till thou have audience. simply as strong as any man in Illyria.

Vio. Sure, my noble lord, Sir Toby. Wherefore are these things hid ? ' If she be so abandoned to her sorrow wherefore have these gifts a curtain before them? As it is spoke, she never will admit me. are they like to take dust, like Mistress Mall's pic- Duke. Be clamorous, and leap all civil bounds, ture? why dost thou not go to church in a galliard, Rather than make unprofited return. and come home in a coranto? My very walk should Vio. Say I do speak with her, my lord; What be a jig! I would not so much as make water but

then? in a sink-a-pace. What dost thou mean? is it a Duke. O, then unfold the passion of my love, world to hide virtues in? I did think, by the ex- Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith : cellent constitution of thy leg, it was formed under It shall become thee well to act my woes; the star of à galliard.

She will attend it better in thy youth, Sir And. Ay, 't is strong, and it does indiffer- Than in a nuncio of more grave aspéct. ent well in a flame-colored stock. Shall we set Vio. I think not so, my lord. about some revels ?

Duke. Dear lad, believe it ;* Sir Toby. What shall we do else ? were we not For they shall yet belie thy happy years, born under Taurus ?

That say thou art a man: Diana's lip Sir And. Taurus ? that 's sides and heart. Is not more smooth and rubious ; 'thy small pipe 1

Sir Toby. No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let Is as the maiden's organ, shrill, and sound, me see thee caper : ha! higher: ha, ha! — excel- | And all is semblative a woman's part." lent! .

[Exeunt. I know thy constellation is right apt.

For this affair : - Some four or five attend him;
All, if you will; for I myself am best

When least in company :- Prosper well in this, SCENE IV. - A Room in the DUKE's Palace. And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord,

To call his fortunes thine. . Enter VALENTINE, and VIOLA in man's attire.

Vio. I'll do my best :

To woo your lady: yet, a barful strife! [Aside. Val. If the duke continue these favors towards Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife. you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanced : he hath known you but three days, and already you are no stranger.


t; if he mená

est; if he

o fear no what is well hanom

SCENE V. - A Room in OLIVIA's house. Oli. Go to, you're a dry fool; I'll no more of

you : besides, you grow dishonest. Enter MARIA and Clown.

Clo. Two faults, madonna, that drink and good Mar. Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, counsel will amend; for give the dry fool drink, or I will not open my lips so wide as a bristle may then is the fool not dry; bid the dishonest man i enter, in way of thy excuse: my lady will hang mend himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonthee for thy absence.

est; if he cannot, let the botcher mend him. Any Clo. Let her hang me! he that is well hanged thing that's mended is but patched : virtue that in this world, needs to fear no colors.

transgresses is but patched with sin ; and sin that Mar. Make that good.

amends is but patched with virtue. If that this Clo. He shall see none to fear.

simple syllogism will serve, so; if it will not, what Mar. A good lenten answer. I can tell thee remedy? As there is no true cuckold but cawhere that saying was born, of “I fear no colors.” lamity, so beauty's a flower :- the lady bade take Clo. Where, good Mistress Mary?

away the fool; therefore, I say again, take her Mar. In the wars; and that may you be bold away. to say in your foolery.

Oli. Sir, I bade them take away you. Clo. Well, God give them wisdom that have it; Clo. Misprison in the highest degree ! - Lady, and those that are fools let them use their talents. Cucullus non facit monachum ; that's as much as

Mar. Yet you will be hanged for being so long to say, I wear not motley in my brain. Good maabsent; or, to be turned away, is not that as good donna, give me leave to prove you a fool. as a hanging to you?

Oli. Can you do it? Clo. Many a good hanging prevents a bad mar Clo. Dexterously, good madonna. riage; and for turning away, let summer bear it Oli. Make your proof. out.

Clo. I must catechise you for it, madonna; good 1 Mar. You are resolute then?

my mouse of virtue, answer me. Clo. Not so neither; But I am resolved on two Oli. Well sir, for want of other idleness, I'll points.

'bide your proof. Mar. That if one break, the other will hold; or Clo. Good madonna, why mourn'st thou ? if both break, your gaskins fall.

Oli. Good fool, for my brother's death. Clo. Apt, in good faith ; very apt! Well, go Clo. I think his soul is in hell, madonna. thy way; if Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou | Oli. I know his soul is in heaven, fool. wert as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any in Il- | Clo. The more fool you, madonna, to mourn for lyria.

your brother's soul being in heaven.— Take away Mar. Peace, you rogue, no more o' that; here the fool, gentlemen. comes my lady: make your excuse widely, you Oli. What think you of this fool, Malvolio ? were best.

[Exit. doth he not mend ?

Mal. Yes; and shall do, till the pangs of death Enter OLIVIA and MALVOLIO.

shake him : Infirmity, that decays the wise, doth :

ever make the better fool. Clo. Wit, an't be thy will, put me into good Clo. God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for fooling! Those wits that think they have thee, the better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will be do very often prove fools; and I, that am sure I sworn that I am no fox; but he will not pass his lack thee, may pass for a wise man : For what says word for two-pence that you are no fool. Quinapulus? Better a witty fool than a foolish | | Oli. How say you to that, Malvolio? wit. — God bless thee, lady.

Mal. I marvel your ladyship takes delight in Oli. Take the fool away.

such a barren rascal; I saw him put down the Clo. Do you not hear, fellows ? Take away the other day with an ordinary fool, that has no more lady.

| brain than a stone. Look you now, he's out of

his guard already; unless you laugh and minister Sir Toby. Let him be the devil, an' he will, I occasion to him, he is gagged. I protest, I take care not; give me faith, say I. Well, it's all one. these wise men that crow so at these set kind of

[Exit. fools, no better than the fools' zanies.

| Oli. What's a drunken man like, fool ? Oli. O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and Clo. Like a drowned man, a fool, and a madtaste with a distempered appetite. To be generous, man: one draught above heat makes him a fool; guiltless, and of free disposition, is to take those the second mads him; and a third drowns him. things for bird-bolts, that you deem cannon-bullets. Oli. Go thou and seek the coroner, and let him There is no slander in an allowed fool, though he do sit o' my coz; for he's in the third degree of drink, nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known dis- he's drowned : go, look after him. creet man, though he do nothing but reprove. I Clo. He is but mad yet, madonna; and the fool

Clo. Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for shall look to the madman. [Exit Clown. thou speakest well of fools.

Re-enter MALVOLIO.
Re-enter MARIA.

Mal. Madam, yond young fellow swears he will

speak with you. I told him you were sick; he Mar. Madam, there is at the gate a young gen- takes on him to understand so much, and therefore tleman, much desires to speak with you.

comes to speak with you. I told him you were Oli. From the Count Orsino, is it?

asleep; he seems to have a foreknowledge of that Mar. I know not, madam; 't is a fair young too, and therefore comes to speak with you. What man, and well attended.

is to be said to him, lady? he's fortified against Oli. Who of my people hold him in delay? any denial. Mar. Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman.

Oli. Tell him, he shall not speak with me. Oli. Fetch him off, I pray you; he speaks no- Mal. He has been told so; and he says, he 'll thing but madman: Fye on him! [Exit MARIA.] stand at your door like a sheriff's post, and be the Go you, Malvolio: if it be a suit from the count, supporter of a bench, but he 'll speak with you. I am sick, or nor at home; what you will to dis- Oli. What kind of man is he? . miss it.. [Exit MALVOLIO.] Now you see, sir, Mal. Why, of man kind. how your fooling grows old, and people dislike it. Oli. What manner of man?

Clo. Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy Mal. Of very ill manner; he 'll speak with you, eldest son should be a fool; whose skull Jove cram will you or no. with brains, for here he comes, one of thy kin, has | Oli. Of what personage and years is he? a most weak pia mater.

Mal. Not yet old enough for a man, nor young

enough for a boy; as a squash is before 't is a Enter Sir Toby BELCH.

peascod, or a codling when 't is almost an apple :

't is with him e'en standing water, between boy and Oli. By mine honor, half drunk. — What is he man. He is very well-favored, and he speaks very at the gate, cousin ?

shrewishly; one would think his mother's milk Sir Toby. A gentleman

were scarce out of him. Oli. A gentleman ? What gentleman ?

Oli. Let him approach : Call in my gentlewoSir Toby. "T is a gentleman here --A plague o' man. these pickle-herrings ! — How now, sot ?

Mal. Gentlewoman, my lady calls.
Clo. Good Sir Toby,—
Oli. Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early

Re-enter MARIA. by this lethargy?

Sir Toby. Lechery! I defy lechery: There's Oli. Give me my veil; come, throw it o'er my one at the gate.

face; Oli. Ay, marry; what is he?

| We'll once more hear Orsino's embassy.

[Exit. Enter VIOLA.

Vio. It alone concerns your ear. I bring no

overture of war, no taxation of homage ; I hold Vio. The honorable lady of the house, which is the olive in my hand; my words are as full of peace she?

as of matter. i Oli. Speak to me, I shall answer for her: Your Oli. Yet you began rudely. What are you? will ?

what would you ? !! Vio. Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable Vio. The rudeness that hath appeared in me

beauty,– I pray you, tell me if this be the lady of have I learned from my entertainment. What I the house, for I never saw her: I would be loath am, and what I would, are as secret as maidento cast away my speech; for, besides that it is ex- head: to your ears, divinity; to any other's, profanacellently well penned, I have taken great pains to tion. con it. Good beauties, let me sustain no scorn; I Oli. Give us the place alone: we will hear this am very comptible, even to the least sinister usage. divinity. (Excit MARIA.] Now, sir, what is your Oli. Whence came you, sir.

text? Vio. I can say little more than I have studied, Vio. Most sweet lady, and that question 's out of my part. Good gentle Oli. A comfortable doctrine, and much may be one, give me modest assurance if you be the lady said of it. Where lies your text? of the house, that I may proceed in my speech. Vio. In Orsino's bosom. Oli. Are you a comedian?

Oli. In his bosom? In what chapter of his Vio. No, my profound heart : and yet, by the bosom? very fangs of malice, I swear, I am not that I play. Vio. To answer by the method, in the first of Are you the lady of the house ?

his heart. Oli. If I do not usurp myself, I am.

Oli. O, I have read it; it is heresy. Have Vio. Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp you no more to say ? yourself; for what is yours to bestow, is not yours Vio. Good madam, let me see your face. to reserve. But this is from my commission: I! Oli. Have you any commission from your lord will on with my speech in your praise, and then to negotiate with my face? you are now out of shew you the heart of my message.

your text: but we will draw the curtain, and shew Oli. Come to what is important in 't: I forgive you the picture. Look you, sir, such a one as I you the praise.

was this present: Is 't not well done ? Vio. Alas, I took great pains to study it, and

[Unveiling. 't is poetical.

Vio. Excellently done, if God did all. Oli. It is the more like to be feigned; I pray you Oli. 'Tis in grain, sir; 't will endure wind and keep it in. I heard you were saucy at my gates, weather. and allowed your approach rather to wonder at you | Vio. 'T is beauty truly blent, whose red and than to hear you. If you be not mad be gone; if

white you have reason be brief: 't is not that time of Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on : noon with me, to make one in so skipping a dia Lady, you are the cruelest she alive, logue.

If you will lead these graces to the grave, Mar. Will you hoist sail, sir? here lies your way. And leave the world no copy.

Vio. No, good swabber; I am to hull here a Oli. O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will little longer.— Some mollification for your giant, give out divers schedules of my beauty: it shall be sweet lady.

inventoried; and every particle, and utensil, laOli. Tell me your mind.

belled to my will : as, item, two lips indifferent Vio. I am a messenger.

red; item, two grey eyes, with lids to them ; item, Oli. Sure you have some hideous matter to de- one neck, one chin, and so forth. Where you sent liver, when the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak hither to praise me? your office.

Vio. I see you what you are : you are too proud;


But, if you were the devil, you are fair. Unless, perchance, you come to me again,
My lord and master loves you; 0, such love To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well :
Could be but recompensed, though you were I thank you for your pains : spend this for me.

Vio. I am no fee'd post, lady; keep your purse; The nonpareil of beauty !

My master, not myself, lacks recompense. Oli. How does he love me?

Love make his heart of flint, that you shall love; Vio. With adorations, with fertile tears, And let your fervor, like my master's, be With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire. Placed in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty. [Exit. Oli. Your lord does know my mind, I cannot Oli. What is your parentage ? love him :

“Above my fortunes, yet my state is well : Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble, I am a gentleman.” — I'll be sworn thou art; Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth; Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and In voices well divulged, free, learned, and valiant, | I spirit, And, in dimension and the shape of nature, Do give thee five-fold blazon :- Not too fast :A gracious person : but yet I cannot love him;

soft! soft! He might have took his answer long ago. Unless the master were the man. — How now?

Vio. If I did love in my master's flame, Even so quickly may one catch the plague ?
With such a suffering, such a deadly life, Methinks I feel this youth's perfections,
In your denial I would find no sense,

With an invisible and subtle stealth,
I would not understand it.

To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be. — Oli. Why, what would you ?

What, ho, Malvolio!
Vio. Make me a willow cabin at your gate,

Re-enter MALVOLIO.
And call upon my soul within the house;
Write loyal cantons of contemnéd love,

Mal. Here, madam, at your service. And sing them loud even in the dead of night; Oli. Run after that same peevish messenger, Holla your name to the reverberate hills, The county's man : he left this ring behind him, And make the babbling gossip of the air

Would I, or not; tell him, I'll none of it. Cry out, Olivia! O, you should not rest Desire him not to flatter with his lord, Between the elements of air and earth,

Nor hold him up with hopes; I am not for him : But you should pity me.

If that the youth will come this way to-morrow, Oli. You might do much: What is your parent- I'll give him reasons for 't. Hie thee, Malvolio. age?

Mal. Madam, I will.

[Exit. Vio. Above my fortunes, yet my state is well. Oli. I do I know not what; and fear to find I am a gentleman.

Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind. Oli. Get you to your lord;

Fate, shew thy force : Ourselves we do not owe; I cannot love him : let him send no more; | What is decreed, must be; and be this so ! [Exit.

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