turned heathen, a very renegado; for there is no Christian, that means to be saved by believing rightly, can ever believe such impossible passages of grossness. He's in yellow stockings.

Sir To. And cross-gartered?

Mar. Most villainously; like a pedant that keeps a school i' the church.-I have dogged him like his murderer. He does obey every point of the letter that I dropped to betray him: he does smile his face into more lines than are in the new map, with the augmentation of the Indies'. You have not seen such a thing as 't is; I can hardly forbear hurling things at him. I know, my lady will strike him if she do, he 'll smile, and take 't for a great favour.

Sir To. Come, bring us, bring us where he is. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.—A Street.

Enter SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO.

Seb. I would not, by my will, have troubled you; But, since you make your pleasure of your pains, I will no farther chide you.

Ant. I could not stay behind you my desire, More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth; And not all love to see you, (though so much, As might have drawn one to a longer voyage) But jealousy 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 Antonio,

I can no other answer make, but, thanks,
And thanks, still thanks, and very3 oft good turns
Are shuffled off with such uncurrent pay;
But, were my wealth, as is my conscience, firm,
You should find better dealing. What 's to do?
Shall we go see the reliques of this town?

Ant. To-morrow, sir: best first go see your lodging.
Seb. I am not weary, and 't is long to night.

I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes

With the memorials, and the things of fame,
That do renown this city.

Ant.

'Would, you'd pardon me : I do not without danger walk these streets. Once, in a sea-fight 'gainst the county's galleys I did some service; of such note, indeed, That, were I ta'en here, it would scarce be answer'd. Seb. Belike, you slew great number of his people. Ant. The offence is not of such a bloody nature, Albeit the quality of the time, and quarrel, Might well have given us bloody argument. It might have since been answer'd in repaying What we took from them; which, for traffick's sake, Most of our city did: only myself stood out; For which, if I be lapsed in this place,

Oli. I have sent after him: he says, he 'll come.
How shall I feast him? what bestow of him?
For youth is bought more oft, than begg'd, or borrow'd.
I speak too loud.-

Where is Malvolio?-he is sad, and civil.
And suits well for a servant with my fortunes.-
Where is Malvolio?

Mar. He's coming, madam; but in very strange manner. He is sure possess'd, 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. [Exit MARIA."]-I am as mad as he,

If sad and merry madness equal be.—
Enter MALVOLIO and MARIA.R

How now, Malvolio?

Mal. Sweet lady, ha, ha!

Oli. Smil'st thou?

I sent for thee upon a sad occasion.

[Smiles ridiculously.

Mal. Sad, lady? I could be sad. This does make some 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 sonnet hath it, "Please one, and please all."

Oli. Why, how dost thou, man? what is the matter with thee?

Mal. Not black in my mind, though yellow' in my legs. It did come to his hands, and commands shall be executed: I think we do know the sweet Roman hand.

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?

Mal. At your request! Yes; nightingales answer daws.

Mar. Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady?

Mal. "Be not afraid of greatness:"-'T was well writ.

Oli. What meanest thou by that, Malvolio?
Mal. "Some are born great,"-

so :".

Oli. Am I made?

Mal. "If not, let me see thee a servant still.”

Oli. Why, this is very midsummer madness.

5 On

Enter Servant.

Ser. Madam, the young gentleman of the count Orsino's is returned. I could hardly entreat him back: he attends your ladyship's pleasure.

Oli. I'll come to him. [Exit Servant.] Good Maria, let this fellow be looked to. Where's my cousin Toby? Let some of my people have a special care of him. I would not have him miscarry for the half of my dowry. [Exeunt OLIVIA and MARIA.

Mal. Oh, ho! do you come near me now? no worse man than sir Toby to look to me? This concurs directly with the letter: she sends him on purpose, that I may appear stubborn to him; for she incites me to that in the letter. "Cast thy humble slough," says she;—“be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants,―let thy tongue tang with arguments of state, put thyself into the trick of singularity:”—and consequently sets down the manner how; as, a sad face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in the habit of some sir of note, and so forth. I have limed her; but it is Jove's doing, and Jove make me thankful. And when she went away now, "Let this fellow be looked to:" fellow,1 not Malvolio, nor after my degree, but fellow. Why, every thing adheres together, that no dram of a scruple, no scruple of a scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous or unsafe circumstance-What can be said? Nothing that can be can come between me, and the full prospect of my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked.

Re-enter MARIA, with Sir TOBY BELCH, and FABIAN. Sir To. Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all the devils in hell be drawn in little, and Legion himself possess him, yet I'll speak to him.

Fab. Here he is, here he is.-How is 't with you, sir ? how is 't with you, man?

Mal. Go off; I discard you: let me enjoy my privacy: go off.

Mar. Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did not I tell you?—Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a care of him.

Mal. Ah, ha! does she so?

Sir To. Go to, go to: peace! peace! we must deal gently with him; let me alone.-How do you, Malvolio? how is 't with you? What, man! defy the devil: consider, he's an enemy to mankind.

Mal. Do you know what you say?

Mar. La, you! an you speak ill of the devil, how he takes it at heart. Pray God, he be not bewitched! Fab. Carry his water to the wise woman. Mar. Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning, if I live. My lady would not lose him for more than I'll say.

Mal. How now, mistress? Mar. O lord!

Sir To. Pr'ythee, hold thy peace: this is not the way. Do you not see you move him? let me alone with him.

Fab. No way but gentleness; gently, gently: the fiend is rough, and will not be roughly used.

Sir To. Why, how now, my bawcock? how dost thou, chuck?

Mal. Sir!

Sir To. Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, man! 't is not for gravity to play at cherry-pit2 with Satan. Hang him, foul collier !

Fab. If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction.

Sir To. His very genius hath taken the infection of the device, man.

Mar. Nay, pursue him now, lest the device take air, and taint.

Fab. Why, we shall make him mad, indeed.
Mar. The house will be the quieter.

Sir To. Come, we 'll have him in a dark room, and bound. My niece is already in the belief that he's mad: we may carry it thus, for our pleasure, and his penance, till our very pastime, tired out of breath, prompts us to have mercy on him; at which time, we will bring the device to the bar, and crown thee for a finder of madmen. But see, but see.

Enter Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK. Fab. More matter for a May morning. Sir And. Here's the challenge; read it: I warrant, there's vinegar and pepper in 't. Fab. Is 't so saucy?

Sir And. Ay, is 't, I warrant him: do but read. Sir To. Give me. [Reads.] "Youth; whatsoever thou art, thou art but a scurvy fellow." Fab. Good, and valiant.

Sir To. "Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind, why I do call thee so, for I will show thee no reason for 't."

Fab. A good note, that keeps you from the blow of the law.

Sir To. "Thou comest to the lady Olivia, and in my sight she uses thee kindly: but thou liest in thy throat; that is not the matter I challenge thee for."

Fab. Very brief, and to exceeding good sense-less. Sir To. "I will way-lay thee going home; where, if it be thy chance to kill me,”

Fab. Good.

Sir To. "Thou killest me like a rogue and a villain." Fab. Still you keep o' the windy side of the law: good. Sir To. "Fare thee well; and God have mercy upon one of our souls! He may have mercy upon mine; but my hope is better, and so look to thyself. Thy friend, as thou usest him, and thy sworn enemy: ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK." If this letter move him not, his legs cannot. I'll give 't him.

Mar. You may have very fit occasion for 't: he is now in some commerce with my lady, and will by and by depart.

Sir To. Go to, sir Andrew; scout me for him at the corner of the orchard, like a bum-bailie. So soon as ever thou seest him, draw, and, as thou drawest, swear horrible; for it comes to pass oft, that a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent, sharply twanged off, gives manhood more approbation than ever proof itself would have earned him. Away!

[Exit.

Mal. My prayers, minx!

Fab. Here he comes with your niece. Give them way, till he take leave, and presently after him.

Sir To. I will meditate the while upon some horrid message for a challenge.

[Exeunt Sir TOBY, FABIAN, and MARIA. Re-enter OLIVIA, with VIOLA.

Oli. I have said too much unto a heart of stone,
And laid mine honour too unchary on 't.
There's something in me that reproves my fault,
But such a headstrong potent fault it is,
That it but mocks reproof.

Vio. With the same 'haviour that your passion bears, Go on my master's griefs.

Oli. Here; wear this jewel for me: 't is my picture. Refuse it not, it hath no tongue to vex you; And, I beseech you, come again to-morrow. What shall you ask of me, that I'll deny, That, honour sav'd, may upon asking give?

Vio. Nothing but this; your true love for my master. Oli. How with mine honour may I give him that, Which I have given to you?

[Exit.

Vio. I will acquit you. Oli. Well, come again to-morrow. Fare thee well: A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell. Re-enter Sir TOBY BELCH, and FABIAN. Sir To. Gentleman, God save thee. Vio. And you, sir.

Sir To. That defence thou hast, betake thee to 't: of what nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know not; but thy intercepter, full of despight, bloody as the hunter, attends thee at the orchard end. Dismount thy tuck'; be yare2 in thy preparation, for thy assailant is quick, skilful, and deadly.

Vio. You mistake, sir: I am sure, no man hath any quarrel to me. My remembrance is very free and clear from any image of offence done to any man.

Sir To. You'll find it otherwise, I assure you therefore, if you hold your life at any price, betake you to your guard; for your opposite hath in him what youth, strength, skill, and wrath, can furnish man withal.

Vio. I pray you, sir. what is he?

Sir To. He is a knight, dubbed with unhatch'd3 rapier, and on carpet consideration, but he is a devil in a private brawl: souls and bodies hath he divorced three, and his incensement at this moment is so implacable, that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death and sepulchre. Hob, nob," is his word; give 't, or take 't.

Vio. I will return again into the house, and desire some conduct of the lady: I am no fighter. I have heard of some kind of men, that put quarrels purposely on others to taste their valour; belike, this is a man of that quirk.

Sir To. Sir, no; his indignation derives itself out of a very competent injury: therefore, get you on, and give him his desire. Back you shall not to the house, unless you undertake that with me, which with as much safety you might answer him: therefore, on, strip your sword stark naked; for meddle you must, that's certain, or forswear to wear iron about you.

Vio. This is as uncivil, as strange. I beseech you, do me this courteous office, as to know of the knight what my offence to him is: it is something of my neg~ ligence, nothing of my purpose.

1 Rapier.

2 Nimble, 3 Unhacked,

Sir To. I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by this gentleman till my return. [Exit Sir TOBY. Vio. Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter? Fab. I know, the knight is incensed against you, even to a mortal arbitrement, but nothing of the circumstance more.

Vio. I beseech you, what manner of man is he?

Fab. Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read him by his form, as you are like to find him in the proof of his valour. He is, indeed, sir, the most skilful, bloody, and fatal opposite that you could possibly have found in any part of Illyria. Will you walk towards him? I will make your peace with him, if

can.

Vio. I shall be much bound to you for 't: I am one, that would rather go with sir priest, than sir knight: I care not who knows so much of my mettle. [Exeunt.

Re-enter Sir TOBY, with Sir ANDREW hanging back.“ Sir To. Why, man, he's a very devil, I have not seen such a firago. I had a pass with him, rapier, scabbard, and all, and he gives me the stuck in, with such a mortal motion, that it is inevitable; and on the answer, he pays you as surely as your feet hit the ground they step on. They say, he has been fencer to the Sophy.

Sir And. Pox on 't, I'll not meddle with him. Sir To. Ay, but he will not now be pacified: Fabian can scarce hold him yonder.

Sir And. Plague on 't; an I thought he had been valiant, and so cunning in fence, I'd have seen him damned ere I'd have challenged him. Let him let the matter slip, and I'll give him my horse, grey Capulet.

Sir To. I'll make the motion. Stand here; make a good show on 't. This shall end without the perdition of souls. [Aside.] Marry, I'll ride your horse as well as I ride you.

Re-enter FABIAN and VIOLA, unwillingly." I have his horse [To FAB.] to take up the quarrel. I have persuaded him, the youth's a devil.

Fab. He is as horribly conceited of him; [To Sir TOBY] and pants, and looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels.

Sir To. There's no remedy, sir: [TO VIOLA] he will fight with you for 's oath sake. Marry, he hath better bethought him of his quarrel, and he finds that now scarce to be worth talking of: therefore, draw for the supportance of his vow: he protests, he will not hurt you.

Vio. [Aside.] Pray God defend me! A little thing would make me tell them how much I lack of a man. Fab. Give ground, if you see him furious. Sir To. Come, sir Andrew, there's no remedy: the gentleman will, for his honour's sake, have one bout with you: he cannot by the duello avoid it; but he has promised me, as he is a gentleman and a soldier, he will not hurt you. Come on; to 't.

Sir And. Pray God, he keep his
oath!

Vio. I do assure you, 't is against
my will.

Enter ANTONIO.

[They draw, and go back from each other.]8