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Between that love a woman can bear me,
And that I owe Olivia.

V10. Ay, but I know
DUKE. What doft thou know?

Vro. Too well what love women to men may owej
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?

V10. A blank, my lord : She never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm i'th' bud,
Feed on her damask cheek : fhe pin'd in thought ;
And, with a green and yellow melancholy,
She sat like patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed ?
We men may fay more, swear more, but, indeed,
Our shows are more than will; for ftill we prove
Much in our vows, but little in our love.

Duke. But dy'd thy sister of her love, my boy?

Vio. I'm all the daughters of my father's house.
And all the brothers too—and yet I know not
Sir, shall I to this lady ?

DUKE. Ay, that's the theme.
To her in haste; give her this jewel : say,
My love can give no place, bide no denay.

Scene VIII. Changes to Olivia's garden.

Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian. Sir To. Come thy ways, Signior Fabian

Fab. Nay, I'll come ; if I lose a scruple of this sport, let me be boild to death with melancholy, VOL. II,



Sir To. Would'st thou not be glad to have the niggardly rafcally sheep-biter come by some notable shame?

FAB. I would exult, man; you know, he brought me out of favour with my lady, about a bear-baiting here.

Sir To. To anger him, we'll have the bear again ; and we will fool him black and blue, shall we not, Sir Andrew ?

Sir AND. And we do not, it's pity of our lives.

Enter Maria.

Sir To. Here comes the little villain: how now, my nettle of India ?

MAR. Get ye all three into the box-tree ; Malvolio's coming down this walk, he has been yonder i'th'sun praetising behaviour to his own shadow this half hour. Observe him, for the love of mockery; for, I know, this letter will make a contemplative idiot of him. Close, in the name of jefting ! lye you there ; for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling. (Throws down a letter, and Exit.

SCENE IX. Enter Malvolio.

MAL. 'Tis but fortune, all is fortune. Maria once told me, she did affect me, and I have heard herself come thus near, that should the fancy, it should be one of my complexion. Besides, the uses me with a more exalted respect, than any one else that follows her. What should I think on't ?

Sir To. Here's an over-weening rogue.

FAB. O, peace : contemplation makes a rare Turkeycock of him; how he jets under his advanc'd plumes !

Sir And. 'Slife, I could so beat the rogue.

Sir To. Peace, I say. : MAL. To be Couat Malvolio,

Sir To. Ah, rogue !
Sir And. Pistol him, pistol him.
Sir To. Peace, peace.

Mal. There is example for’t : the lady of the Strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe.

Sir And. Fie on him, Jezebel !

Fab. O, peace, now he's deeply in; look, how imagination blows him.

MAL. Having been three months married to her, sitting in my state

Sir To. O for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye!

Mal. Calling my officers about me, in my branch'd velvet-gown; having come down from a day-bed, where I have left Olivia sleeping.

Sir To. Fire and brimstone !
FAB. O, peace, peace.

MAL. And then to have the humour of state ; and after a demure travel of regard, telling them, I know my place, as I would they should do theirs-to ask for my uncle Toby

Sir To. Bolts and shackles ! peace,
FAB. Oh, peace, peace; now, now.

MAL. Seven of my people with an obedient start make out for him: I frown the while, and, perchance, wind up my watch, or play with some rich jewel. Toby approaches, eurtsies there to me.

Sir To. Shall this fellow live?

Fab. Tho'our silence be drawn from us with cares, yet peace.

Mal. I extend my hand to him thus : quenching my familiar (mile with an austere regard of controul.

Sir To. And does not Toby take you a blow o'th' lips chen?


MAL. Saying, uncle Toby, my fortunes having cast me on your niece, give me this prerogative of speech

Sir To. What, what?
MAL. You must amend your drunkeoness.
Sir To. Out, scab ?
FAB. Nay, patience, or we break the finews of our plot.

MAL. Besides, 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.
Mal. What employment have we here?

(Taking up the letter. FAB. Now is the woodcock near the gin.

Sir To. Oh peace ! now the spirit of humours intimate reading aloud to him !

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.

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

MAL. “ To the unknown belov'd, this, and my good .66 wishes;” her very phrases: By your leave, wax. Soft ! and the impressure her Lucrece, with which she uses to seal; 'tis my lady: to whom should this be?

FAB. This wins him, liver and all.
MAL. Jove knows I love, but who,

“ Lips do not move, no man must know." No man must know-what follows the number's alter'd

no man must know if this should be thee, Malvolio? Sir To. Marry, hang thee, Brock! MAL. “ I may command, where I adore,

But, llence, like a Lucrece knife,

* With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore;

" M. O. A. I. doth sway my life.”.
FAB. A fufian riddle.
Sir To. Excellent wench, say I.
MAL. M. O. A. I. doth sway my life-

-nay, but firft, let me see let me see

FAB. What a dish of poison has she dress’d him ?
Sir To. And with what wing the stannyel checks at it?

Mal.“ I may command where I adore.” Why, she may command me: I serve her, she is my lady. Why, this is evident to any formal capacity. Why there is no obstruction in this and the end-what should that alphabetical position portend ? If I could make that resemble fomething in me? foftly -M. O. A. I.

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

Fab. Sowter will cry upon't for all this, thọ’ it be not as rank as a fox.

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

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

MAL. M. But then there is no consonancy in the sequel ; That suffers under probation : A should follow, but O does.

FAB. And O shall end, I hope.
Sir To. Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make him cry 0.
Mal. And then I comes behind.

FAB. Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you might sec more detraction at your heels than fortunes before you.

MAL. M. O, A. I.- this fimulation is not as the for, mer-and yet to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of these letters is in my name. Soft, here follows prose- “ If this fall into thy hand, revolve, In

my stars I am above thee, but be not afraid of greatness;

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