mad. Fub. I will not give my part of this sport for a | that, when the image of it leaves him, he must run pension of thousands 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 such another jest. Enter MARIA. Sir And. Nor I neither. Fab. Here comes my noble gull-catcher. Sir To. Wilt thou set thy foot o'my neck? Sir And. Or o'mine either? Mar. Nay, but say true; does it work upon him? Sir To. Like aqua vitæ. Mar. If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark his first approach before my lady: he will come to her in yellow stockings, and 'tis a colour she abhors; and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests; and he will smile upon her, which will now be so unsuitable to her disposition, being addicted to a melancholy as she is, that it cannot but turn him into a notable contempt: if you will see it, Sir To. Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, follow me. and become thy bond slave? Sir And. I'faith, or I either. Sir To. Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, Sir To. To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit! Sir And. I'll make one too. [Exeunt. Vio. I warrant thou art a merry fellow, and carest for nothing. Clo. Not so, sir, I do care for something: but in my conscience, sir, I do not care for you; if that be to care for nothing, sir, I would it would make you invisible. Vio. Art not thou the lady Olivia's fool? Clo. No, indeed, sir; the lady Olivia has no folly: she will keep no fool, sir, till she be married; and fools are as like husbands as pilchards are to herrings, the husband's the bigger; I am, indeed, not her fool, but her corrupter of words. Vio. I saw thee late at the count Orsino's. Clo. Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb, like the sun; it shines every where. I would be sorry, sir, but the fool should be as oft with your master, as with my mistress: I think, I saw your wisdom there. Vio. Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee. Hold, there's expences for thee. Is thy lady within? Clo. My lady is within, sir. I will construe to her whence you come: who you are, and what you would, are out of my welkin: I might say, element; but the word is over-worn. [Exit. Vio. This fellow's wise enough to play the fool; And, to do that well, craves a kind of wit. He must observe their mood on whom he jests, The quality of persons, and the time; And, like the haggard', check at every feather But wise men, folly-fallen, quite taint their wit. Enter Sir TOBY BELCH and Sir ANDREW AGUE CHEEK. Sir To. Save you, gentleman. Sir And. Dieu vous garde, monsieur. Sir And. I hope, sir, you are; and I am yours. Sir To. Will you encounter the house? my niece is desirous you should enter, if your trade be to her. Vio. I am bound to your niece, sir; I mean, she is the list 8 of my voyage. Sir To. Taste your legs, sir, put them to motion. Vio. My legs do better understand me, sir, than I understand what you mean by bidding me taste my legs. Sir To. I mean, to go, sir, to enter. Vio. I will answer you with gait and entrance: But we are prevented. Enter OLIVIA and MARIA. Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain odours on you! Sir And. That youth's a rare courtier! Rain odours! well. Vio. My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your own most pregnant 9 and vouchsafed ear. Sir And. Odours, pregnant, and vouchsafed: I'll get 'em all three ready. Oli. Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing. [Exeunt Sir TOBY, Sir ANDREW, and MARIA. Give me your hand, sir. Vio. My duty, madam, and most humble service. Oli. What is your name? Vio. Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess. Oli. My servant, sir! 'Twas never merry world, Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment: You are servant to the count Orsino, youth: Vio. And he is yours, and his must needs be yours: Your servant's servant is your servant, madam. think? Have you not set mine honour at the stake, Enough is shown; a cyprus, not a bosom, Oli. That's a degree to love. Vio. No, not a grise?; for 'tis a vulgar proof, Oli. Why, then, methinks, 'tis time to smile again; Vio. Then westward-hoe: Grace, and good disposition 'tend your ladyship! You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me? Oli. Stay: I pr'ythee, tell me, what thou think'st of me. Oli. O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful A murd'rous guilt shows not itself more soon By maidhood, honour, truth, and every thing, Oli. Yet come again: for thou, perhaps, may'st move [Exeunt. Enter Sir TOBY BELCH, Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK, Sir And. No, faith, I'll not stay a jot longer. Sir And. Marry, I saw your niece do more favours to the count's serving man, than ever she bestowed upon me: I saw't i'the orchard. Sir To. Did she see thee the while, old boy? tell me that. Sir And. As plain as I see you now. Fab. This was a great argument of love in her toward you. Sir And. 'Slight! will you make an ass o' me? Fab. I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of judgment and reason. Sir To. And they have been grand jury-men, since before Noah was a sailor. Fab. She did show favour to the youth in your sight, only to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse valour, to put fire in your heart, and brimstone in your liver: You should then have accosted her; and with some excellent jests, fire-new from the mint, you should have banged the youth into dumbness." This was looked for at your hand, and this was baulked: the double gilt of this opportunity you let time wash off, and you are now sailed into the north of my lady's opinion; where you will hang like an icicle on a Dutchman's beard, unless you do redeem it by some laudable attempt, either of valour, or policy. Sir And. And't be any way, it must be with valour; for policy I hate: I had as lief be a Brownist 3, as a politician. Sir To. Why then, build me thy fortunes upon the basis of valour. Challenge me the count's youth to fight with him; hurt him in eleven places; my niece shall take note of it: and assure thyself, there is no love-broker in the world can more prevail in man's commendation with woman, than report of valour. Fab. There is no way but this, Sir Andrew. Sir And. Will either of you bear me a challenge to him? Sir To. Go, write it in a martial hand; be curst 4 and brief; it is no matter how witty, so it be eloquent, and full of invention: taunt him with the licence of ink: if thou thou'st him some thrice, it shall not be amiss; and as many lies as will lie in thy sheet of paper, although the sheet were big enough for the bed of Ware 5 in England, set 'em down; go, about it. Let there be gall enough in thy ink: though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter: About it. Sir And. Where shall I find you? Sir To. We'll call thee at the cubiculo 6: Go. [Exit Sir ANDrew. Fab. This is a dear manakin to you, Sir Toby. Sir To. I have been dear to him, lad; some two thousand strong, or so. Fab. We shall have a rare letter from him: but you'll not deliver it? Sir To. Never trust me then; and by all means stir on the youth to an answer. I think, oxen and | For which, if I be lapsed 7 in this pla wainropes cannot hale them together. For Andrew, I shall pay dear. if he were opened, and you find so much blood in his liver as will clog the foot of a flea, I'll eat the rest of the anatomy. Fab. And his opposite, the youth, bears in his visage no great presage of cruelty. Seb. In the south suburbs, at the Elephan With viewing of the town; there shal Ant. Haply, your eye shall light Id SCENE IV. - Olivia's G Enter OLIVIA and MARI Oli. I have sent after him: He sa How shall I feast him? what bestow For youth is bought more oft, than b row'd. Where is Malvolio?- he is sad, and Seb. I would not, by my will, have troubled you; | But in strange manner. He is sure Ant. I could not stay behind you; my desire, 'Would you'd pardon me; Oli. Why, what's the matter? doe He does nothing but smile; your la How now, Malvolio? I sent for thee upon a sad 8 occasion. Mal. Sad, lady? I could be sa make some obstruction in the blood, tering: But what of that, if it plea one, it is with me as the very true so one, and please all. Oli. Why, how dost thou, man? matter with thee? Mal. Not black in my mind, tho my legs: It did come to his hands, a shall be executed. I think, we do k Roman hand. Oli. Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolic Mal. To bed? ay, sweet-heart; a to thee. Oli. God comfort thee! Why dost and kiss thy hand so oft? Mar. How do you, Malvolio? Mal. At your request? Yes; Nig swer daws. Mar. Why appear you with this ri ness before my lady? |