Ford. Now, sir, who's a cuckold now?-Master

Enter SLENDER. Brook, Falstaff's a knave, a cuckoldy knave; here are his horns, master Brook : And, master Brook,

Slen. Whoo! bo! ho! father Page. he hath enjoyed nothing of Ford's but his buck- Page. Son! how now? how now, son? hare basket, his cudgel, and twenty pounds of money, you despatched? which must be paid to master Brook; his horses Slen. Despatched !-I'll make the best in Glauare arrested for it, master Brook.

cestershire know on't; would I were hanged, la, Mrs. Ford. Sir John, we have had ill luck, we

else. could never meet. I will never take you for my

Page. Of what, son ? love again, but I will always count you my deer. Slen. I came yonder at Eton to marry mistress Fal. I do begin to perceive that I am made an ass.

Anne Page, and she's a great lubberly boy. If it Ford. Ay, and an ox too; both the proofs are had not been i' the church, I would have swinged extant.

him, or he should have swinged me. If I did not Fal. And these are not fairies? I was three or think it had been Anne Page, would I might never four times in the thought, they were not farries : stir, and 'tis a post-master's boy. and yet the guiltiness of my mind, the sudden sur- Page. Upon my life then you took the wrong. prise of my powers, drove the grossness of the fop

Slen. What need you tell me that? I think so, pery into a received belief, in despite of the teeth when I took a boy for a girl: If I had been married of all rhyme and reason, that they were fairies. to him, for all he was in woman's apparel, I would See now, how wit inay be made a Jack-a-lent, when not have had him. 'tis upon ill employment !

Page. Why this is your own folly. Did not I Eva. Sir John Falstaff, servo Got, and leave

tell your

you, how you should know my daughter by her desires, and fairies will not pinse you.

garments ? Ford. Well said, fairy Hugh.

Slen. I went to her in white, and cry'd mum, and Eva. And leave you your jealousies too, I pray she cry'd budget, as Anne and I had appointed;

and yet it was not Anne, but a post-master's boy. you. Ford. I will never mistrust my wife again, till

Eva. Jeshu! Master Slender, cannot you see thou art able to woo her in good English.

but marry boys ? Fal. Have I laid my brain in the sun, and dried

Page. O, I am vexed at heart: What shall I do? it, that it wants matter to prevent so gross o'er

Mrs. Page. Good George, be not angry: I knew reaching as this ? Am I ridden with a Welsh goat of your purpose; turned my daughter into green; too? Shall I have a coxcomb of frize ? 'tis time I and, indeed, she is now with the doctor at the deanwere choked with a piece of toasted cheese. ery, and there married.

Eva. Seese is not good to give putter; your pelly is all putter.

Enter Caius. the taunt of one that makes fritters of English? cozened: I ha' married un garcon, a boy ; un pai

Fal. Seese and putter! Have I lived to stand at Caius. Vere is mistress Page? By gar, I am This is enough to be the decay of lust and late walking through the realm.

san, by gar, a boy; it is not Anne Page : by gar,

I am cozened, Mrs. Page. Why, Sir John, do you think, though we would have thrust virtue out of our hearts by

Mrs. Page. Why, did you take her in green? the head and shoulders, and have given ourselves

Caius. Ay, be gar, and 'tis a boy; be gar,

raise all Windsor. without scruple to hell, that ever the devil could have made you our delight?

Ford. This is strange! Who hath got the right

Anne ?
Ford. What, a hodge-pudding? a bag of filax?
Mrs. Page. A puffed man?

Page. My heart misgives me : Here comes mas

ter Fenton.
Page. Old, cold, withered, and of intolerable en-
trails?

Enter FENTON and ANNE PAGE.
Ford, And one that is as slanderous as Satan?
Page. And as poor as Job?

How now, master Fenton ?
Ford. And as wicked as his wife?

Anne. Pardon, good father! good my mother, Eva. And given to fornifications and to taverns,

pardon! and sack and wine, and metheglins, and to drink- Page. Now, mistress ? how chance you went not ings, and swearings and starings, pribbles and prab- with master Slender ? bles?

Mrs. Page. Why went you not with master doo Fal. Well, I am your theme; you have the start tor, maid ? of me; I am dejected; I am not able to answer the Fent. You do amazes her: Hear the truth of it. Welsh flannel; ignorance itself is a plummet o'er You would have married her most shamefully, me:' use me as you will.

Where there was no proportion held in love. Ford. Marry, sir, we'll bring you to Windsor, to The truth is, she and I, long since contracted, one master Brook, that you have cozened of money, are now so sure that nothing can dissolso us. to whom you should have been a pander: over and The offence is holy that she hath committed: above that you have suffered, I think, to repay that

And this deceit loses the name of craft, money will be a biting affliction.

Of disobedience, or undutious title ; Mrs. Ford. Nay, husband, let that go to make Since therein she doth evitate and shun amends ;

A thousand irreligious cursed hours,
Forgive that sum, and so we'll all be friends. Which forced marriage would have brought upoo

Ford. Well, here's my hand; all's forgiven at last.
Page. Yet be cheerful, knight : thou shalt eat a

Ford. Stand not amaz'd: hore is no remedy:posset to-night at my house; where I will desire in love, the heavens themselves do guide the state ; thee to laugh at my wife, that now laughs at thee:* Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate. Tell her, master Slender hath married her daughter. Fal. I am glad, though you have ta'en a special

Mrs. Page. Doctors doubt that: If Anne Page stand to strike at me, that your arrow hath glanced. be my daughter, she is, by this, doctor Caius' wife. Page. Well, what remedy? Fenton, heaven give

[Aside.

thee joy!

What cannot be eschew'd, must be embrac'd. gum ; ' a thing made with forkes, like a gallowes, a frame whereon vineg are joyned."

(Exit Caics,

her.

Fal. When night-dogs run, all sorts of deer are culous characters can confer praise only on him who chas'd.

originally discovered it, for it requires not much of either Era. I will dance and eat plums at your wed-wit or judgment; its success must be derived almost

wholly from the player, but its power in a skilful mouib ding.

even he that dispises it is unable to resist. Mrs. Page. Well, I will muse no further :-mas

The conduct of this drama is deficient; the action be. ter Fenton,

gins and ends often, before the conclusion, and the difHeaven give you many, many merry days ferent parts might change places without inconvenience; Good husband, let us every one go home,

but its general power, that power by which all works And laugh this sport o'er by a country fire;

of genius shall finally be tried, is such, that perhaps it Sir John and all.

never yet had reader or spectator who did not think it too soon at the end.

JOHNSON.) Ford.

Let it be so :-Sir John,
To master Brook you yet shall hold your word;
For he to-night shall lie with mistress Ford.

(Exeunt. THE PASTORAL BY CH. MARLOWE.

Referred to Act iii. Sc. I, of the foregoing Play [Or thig play there is a tradition preserved by Mr. Come, live with me, and be my love, Rowe, that it was written at the cominand of Queen And we will all the pleasures prove, Elizabeth, who was a delighted with the character of Thal hills and valleys, dales and field, Falstaff, that she wished it to be diffused through more

And all the craggy mountains yield. plays; but suspecting that it might pall by continued There will we sit upon the rocks, uniformity, directed the poet to diversify his manner, by And see the shepherds feed their flocks, showing him in love. No task is harder than that of

By shallow rivers, by whose falls writing to the ideas of another. Shakspeare knew what Melodious birds sing madrigals: the queen, if the story be true, seems not to have known, There will I make thee beds of roses that by any real passion of tenderness, the selfish craft, With a thousand fragrant posies, the careless jollity, and the lazy luxury of Falstaff must A cap of flowers and a kirule have suffered so much abatement, that little of his for. Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle ; mer cast would have remai Falstaff could not

A gown made of the finest wool, love, but by ceasing to be Falstaff. He could only Which from the pretty lambs we pull; counter seit love, and his professions coule de prompted, Fair lined slippers for the celd. Dot by the hope of pleasure, but of money. Thus tho With buckles of the puresi gold; pret approached as near as he could to the work en- A belt of straw, and ivy buds, joined him; yet, having perhaps in the former plays With coral clasps and amber studs : completed his own idea, seems not to have been able to

And if these pleasures may thee move, give Falstaff all his former power of entertainment.

Come, live with me, and be my love. This comedy is remarkable for the variety and num- Thy silver dishes for thy meat, ber of the personages, who exhibit more characters, As precious as the gods do eat, appropriated and discriminated, than perhaps can be Shall on thy ivory table be found in any other play.

Prepared each day for thee and me. Whether' Shakspeare was the first that produced The shepherd swains shall dance and sing upon the English stage the effect of language distorted For thy delight, each May morning: and depraved by provincial or foreign pronunciation, If these delights thy mind may move, I cannot certainly decide. This mode of forming ridi. Then live with me, and be my love.

1 Young and old, does as well as bucks. He alludes of Windsor. The hero of it speaks such another jargon to Fenton's having run down Anne Page.

as the antagonist of Sir Hugh, and like him is cheated 2 In The Three Ladies of London, 1584, is the cha- of his mistress. In several other pieces, more ancient racter of an Italian Merchant very strongly marked by than the earliest of Bhakspeare's, provincial characters foreizn pronunciation. Dr. Dodypoll, in the comedy are introduced. In the old play of Henry V. French of that name, is, like Caius, a French physician. This soldiers are introduced speaking broken English. piece appeared at least a year before The Merry Wives

STEEVENS.

TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL.

PRELIMINARY REMARKS.

s . been taken from the second tale in a collection by nursed and dandled by Sir Toby into something high Barnabe Riche, entitled, “Rich his Farewell to the fantastical' when, on Sir Andrew's commendation of Militarie Profession,” which was first printed in 1593. himself for dancing and fencing, Sir Toby answersI is probably borrowed from Les Histoires Tragiques Wherefore are these things hid? Wherefore have de Belle forest, vol. iv. Higt. viime. Belleforest, as usual, these gifts a curtain before them? Are they like to take copied Pandello. In the fifth eglog of Barnaby Googe, dust like Mistress Mall's picture? Why dost thou not published with his poems in 1563, an incident some go to church in a galliard, apicome home in a coranto? Shai similar to that of the duke sending his page to My very walk should be a jig! I would not so much as plead his cause with the lady, and the lady falling in make water in a cinque-s pace. What dost thou mean? love with the page, may be found. But Rich's narra- Is this a world to hide virtues in? I did think by the extion is the more probable source, and resembles the plot cellent constitution of thy leg, it was framed under the more completely. It is too long for insertion here, but star of a galliard ! How Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and may be found in the late edition of Malone's Shak. the clown chirp wer their cups; how they'rouse the speare, by Mr. Boswell.

night-owl in a cuch able to draw three souls out of one The comic scenes appear to have been entirely the weaver !'-What can be better than Sir Toby's unan. creation of the poet, and they are worthy of his tran: swerable answer to Malvolio : 'Dost thou think, bescendent genius. It is indeed one

of the most delightful cause thox art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes of Shakspeare's comedies. Dr. Johnson thought the and ale.?-We have a friendship for Sir Toby; we pa. natural fatuity of Ague-cheek hardly fair game, but the tronir Sir Andrew; we have an understanding with good-nature with which his folly and his pretensions the clown, a sneaking kindness for Maria and her ro. are brought forward for our amusement, by humouring gveries; we feel a regard for Malvolio, and sympa. his whimis, are almost without a spice of satire. It is inize with his gravity, his smiles, his cross.gartera, rather an attempe to give pleasure by exhibiting an ex. his yellow stockings, and imprisonment in the stocke. aggerated picture of his foibles, than a wish to give pain But there is something thai excites in us a songer

feeling than all this, it is Viola's confession of her sing wind draws from the trembling strings of a harp love.

left on some desert shore! There are other passages of

not less impassioned sweetness. Such is Olivia's ad. Drike. What's her history?

dress to Sebastian, whom she supposed to have already Viola. A blank, my lord : She never told her love, deceived her in a promise of marriage. But let concealment, like a worm i’ the bud, Feed on her damask cheek: she pin'd in thought;

Blame not this haste of mine :And, with a green and yellow melancholy,

Plight me the full assurance of your faith, She sat like Patience on a monument,

most Smiling at grief. Was not this love, indeed?

May live al peace.' We men may say more, swear more ; but, indeed,

“ One of the most beautiful of Shakspeare's Songs Our shows are more than will; for still we prove

occurs in this play with a preface of his own to it. Much in our vows, but little in our love.

Duke. But died thy sister of her love, my boy? • Duke. O fellow, come, the song we had last night

Viola. I am all the daughters of my father's house, Mark it, Cesario ; it is old, and plain; And all the brothers too ;-and yet I know not. The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, " Shakspeare alone could describe the effect of his Do use to chaunt it; it is silly

sooth,

And the free maids that weave their thread with bones own poetry :

And dallies with the innocence of love, “O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south,

Like the old age.” That breathes upon a bank of violets,

“ After reading other parts of this play, and particuStealing, and giving odour.”

larly the garden scene where Malvolio picks up the “What we so much admire here is not the image of comedy was less than his genius for iragedy, it would

letter, if we were to say that Shakspeare's genius * Patience on a monument, which has been so generally quoted, but the lines before and after it, "They give a perhaps only prove that our own taste in such nasters

is more saturnine than mercurial."* very echo to the seat where love is throned.” How long ago it is since we first learnt to repeat them; and still they vibrate on the heart like the sounds which the pas. * Hazlitt's Characters of Shakspeare's Plays, p. 25%.

PERSONS REPRESENTED

FABIAN,}

Orsino, Duke of Illyria.

Servants to Olivia.
SEBASTIAN, a young Gentleman, Brother to Viola. Clown,
Antonio, a Ser Cuptain, Friend to Sebastian.

OLIVIA, a rich Countess.
A Sea Captain, Friend to Viola.

Viola, in love with the Duke.
VALENTINE, } Gentlemen attending on the Duke.

MARIA, Olivia's Woman.
CURIO,
SIR TOBY Belch, Uncle of Olivia.

Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians, and other SIR ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK.

Attendants. MALVOLIO, Steward to Olivia.

SCENE, a City in Illyria ; and the Sea Coast near it.

1

ACT I.

Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord ?
Duke,

What, Curio?

Cur. SCENE 1.

The hart. An Apartment in the Duke's Palace. Enter Duke, Curio, Lords ; Musicians attending. So,

when mine eyes did see Olivia first,

Duke. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have : Duke.

Methought sho purg'd the air of pestilence; If music be the food of love, play on,

That instant was I turn'd into a hart; Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting,

And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, The appetite may sicken, and so dio.

E’er since pursue me. -How now? what news

from her ? That strain again;—it hath a dying fall: O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south,'

Enter VALENTINE. That breathes upon a bank of violets,

Val. So please my lord, I might not be admitted, Stealing, and giving odour. 2_Enough ; no more ; But from her handmaid do return this answer: 'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.

The element itself, till seven years heat, O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou !

Shall not behold her face at ample view; That notwithstanding thy capacity

But, like a cloistress, she will veiled wnik, Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,

And water once a day her chamber round Of what validity and pitch soever,

With eye-offending brine: all this, to season But falls into abatement and low price,

A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh, Even in a minute! so full of shapes is fancy, And lasting, in her sad remembrance. That it alone is high-fantastical."

Duke. O, sho, that hath a heart of that fine frame, 1 The old copies read sound, the emendation is To pay this debt of love but to a brother, Pope's. Rowe had chanred it to wind. In Sidney's Ar.

3 Value.

4 Fantastical to the height cadia, 1590, we have-more sweet than a gentle south

5 Shakspeare seems to think men cautioned against west wind which comes creeping over flowery fields.' 2 Milton has very successfully introduced the same of Acteon, who saw Diana naked, and was torn to

too great familiarity with forbidden beauty by the fable image in Paradise Lost :

pieces by his hounds; as a man indulging his eyes or - Now gentle gales,

his imagination with a view of a woman he cannot Fanning their odoriferous wings, dispense

gain, has his heart torn with incessant longing. An in. Native prefumes, and whisper Wlence they stole terpretation far more elegant and natural than Lord Those balmy spoils."

Bacon's, who, in his Wisdom of the Ancients, supposes Shakspeare, in the Ninty.ninth Sonnet, has made the this story to warn us against inquiring into the secrets of violet the thief.

princes, by showing that those who know that which for The forward violet thus did I chide :

reasons of state ought to be concealed will be detected Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy swee that may have been suggested by Daniel's Fifth Sonnet, in

and destroyed by their own servants. The thought smells, If not from my love's breath."

his Delia ; or by Whitney's Emblems, 1556, p. 15; Pope, in his Ode on St. Cecilia's Day; and Thomson, lation of The Golden Ass of Apuleius,' 1566, may bave

and a passage in the Dedication to Aldington's transin his Spring have availed themselves of the epithet suggested these. a dying fall.

Vio

How will she love, when the rich golden shaft Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, captain; Huh kill'd the flock' of all affections else

And though that nature with a beauteous wall Tiat live in her! when liver, brain, and heart," Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and fill's I will believe, thou hast a mind that suits (Her sweet perfections) with one self king! With this thy fair and outward character. Away before me to sweet beds of flowers; I pray thee, and I'll pay thee bounteously, Lore-thoughts lie rich, when capopied with bowers. Conceal me what I am; and be my aid

[Exeunt. For such disguise as, haply, shall become SCENE II. The Sea Corst. Enter Viola, Cap- Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him,

The form of my intent. T'll serve this duke; tain, and Sailors.

It may be worth thy pains; for I can sing, Via. What country, friends, is this?

And speak to him in many sorts of music, Cap.

Illyria, lady. That will allow me very worth his service. Vio. And what should I do in Illyria ?

What else may hap, to time I will commit; My brother he is in Elysium.

Only shape thou thy silence to my wit. Perchance he is not drown'd:-What think

you,

Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be: sailors ?

When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see! Cap. It is perchance that you yourself were saved.

Vio. I thank thec: Lead me on. (Exeunt. Vis, o my poor hro: horl and so, perchance, may SCENE NI. A Room in Olivia's House, Enter

He be.
Cap. True, madam: and, to comfort you with

Sir Toby BELch and MARIA.
chance,

Sir To. What a plague means my niece, to take A ssure yourself, after our ship did split,

the death of her brother thus ? I'm sure, care's an When you, and that poor number saved with

you,

eneiny to life. Hing on our driving boat, I saw your brother,

Mar. By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in It provident in peril, bind himself Courage and hope both teaching him the practice) exceptions to your ill hours.

earlier o'nights; your cousin, my lady, takes great = T) a strong mast, that lived upon the sea.

Sir To. Why, let her except before excepted.' erre, like Arion on the dolphin's back, I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves,

Mar. Ay, but you must confine yourself within

the modest limits of order. Slong as I could see.

Sir To. Confine? I'll confine myself no finer For saying so, there's gold : than I am: these clothes are good enough to drink Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,

in, and so be these boots too; an they be not, let Thereto thy speech serves for authority, The like of him. Know'st thou this country?

them hang themselves in their own straps. Cap. Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and born I heard my lady talk of it yesterday; and of a fool

Mar. That quaffing and drinking will undo you: Not three hours travel from this very place. Via. Who governs here?

ish knight, that you brought in one night here, to be

her wooer. Cop:

A noble duke, in nature, As in his name?

Sir To. Who? Sir Andrew Ague-cheek? l'io. What is his name?

Mar. Ay, he.

Sir To. He's as talle a man as any's in Illyria. Orzino.

Mar. What's that to the purpose ? Virg. Orsino! I have heard my father name him:

Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats a H: was a bachelor then. Cz. And so is now,

year.

Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these Or was so very late : for but a month

ducats; he's a very fool and a prodigal. 499 I went from hence; and then 'twas fresh

Sir To. Fye, that you'll say so! he plays of the In oormur (as you know, what great ones do, The less will pratile of,) that he did seek

viol-de-gambo, and speaks three or four languages The love of fair Olivia.

word for word without book, and hath all the good lig. What's she?

gifts of nature.

Mar. He hath, indeed, -almost natural: for, beCap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count Thai died some twelvemonih since; then leaving her but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the

sides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller; and, Ir the protection of his son, her brother, the shortly also died: for whose dear love

gust ho hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among the They say she hath abjur'd the company

prudent, he would quickly have the gift of a grave. And sight of men.

Sir To. By this hand they are scoundrels, and

substracters, that suy so of him. Who are they? 0, that I serv'd that lady: A1:1 might not be delivered to the world,

Nur. They that add moreover, he's drunk nightly

in your company. T! I had made mine own occasion mellow,

Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece; I'll my estate is.*

drink to her, as long as there is a passage in my Cap.

That were hard to compass; Berause she will adinit no kind of suit,

throat, and drink in Illyria: He's a coward, and a No, not the duke's.

coystril,9 that will not drink to my niece, till his

brains turn o' the toe like a parish-top.1o What, 1 So, in Silney's Arcadia--" the flock of unspeaka. Divinics."

with the Duke, but it would have been inconsistent with 3 The lirer, hrain, and heart were then considered her delicacy to have made an open confession of it to the seals of passion, judgment, and sentiments. These the Captain. are what Shakspeare calls her secl perfections, 5 This plan of Vinla's was not pursued, as it would trich he has not very clearly expressed it.

have been inconsistent with the plot of the play. She 3 Self king signifies self same king, i. e. one and the was presented as a page not as an eunuch.

6 Approve. 4 i.e." I wish I might not be made public to the

7 A ludicrous use of a formal laro phrase. tel, with regard to the state of iny birth and fortune, 8 That is as raliant a man, as tall a man, is used

I have gained a ripe opportunity for my design. here by Sir Toby with more than the usual licence of Bihisan remarks that' Viola seems to have formed the word; he was pleased with the equivoque, and ban. adeep design with very little premeditation. In the ters upon the diminutive stature of poor Sir Andrew, invel upon which the play is founded, the Duke being and his utter want of courage. Fiven ripon the isle of Cyprus, by a tempest, Silla, the 9 A coystril is a low, mean, or worthless fellow. daughter of the governor, falls in love with him, and on 10 A large top was formerly kept in every village, to his departure goes in pursuit of him. All this Shak. he whipped in frosty weather, that the peasants might speare knew, and probruly intended to tell in some fu. be kept warm by exercise, and out of mischief when tue scene, but afterwards forgot it. Viola, in Act i. Sc. they could not work. " To sleep like a Tuwn-cop'is a painly alludes to ber having been secretly in love I proverbial expression.

Стр.

Vis.

What

12.34 king

you

wench? Castiliano volto;' for here comes Sir An- Sir To. Excellent; it hangs like fax on a distaff; drew Arue-face.

and I hope to see a housewife take thee between Enter SIR ANDREW ACUE-CHEEK. hier legs and spin it off. Sir And. Sir Toby Belch! how now, Sir Toby Sir And. 'Faith, I'll home to-morrow, Sir Toby: Belch.

your niece will not be scen; or, if she be, it's four Sir To. Sweet Sir Andrew!

to one she'll none of me: the count himself, here Sir And. Bless yo:), fair shrew.

hard by, woos her. Mar. And you too, sir.

Sir To. She'll none o' the count; she'll not match Sir To. Accost, Sir Andrew, accost.

above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit ; Sir And. Whai's that ?

I have heard her swear it. Tut, there's life in't, man. Sir To. My niece's chamber-maid.

Sir And. I'll stay a month longer. I am a felSir And. Good mistress Accost, I desire better low o' the strangest mind i' the world; I delight in acquaintance.

masques and revels sometimes altogether. Mar. My name is Mary, sir.

Sir To. Art thou good at these kickshaws, knight? Sir And. Good mistress Mary Accost,

Sir And. As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he Sir To. You mistake, knight : accost, is, front be, under the degree of my beilers'; and yet I Fill her, board her, woo her, assail her.

not compare with an old man. Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake her Sir To. What is thy excellence in a galliard, in this company. Is that the meaning of accost ? knight? Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen.

Sir And. 'Faith, I can cut a caprr. Sir To. An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, 'would Sir To. And I can cut the mution to't. thou might'st never draw sword again.

Sir And. And, I think I have the back-trick, simSir And. An you part so, mistress, I would I ply as strong as any man in Illyria. might never draw sword again. Fair lady, do Sir To. Wherefore are these things hid? where think you have fools in hand ?

fore have these gifts a curtain before them? are Mar. Sir, I have not you by the hand.

they like to take dust, like mistress Mall's picture Sir And. 'Marry, but you shall have; and here's why dost thou not go to church in a galliard, and my hand.

come home in a coranto? My very walk should be Mar. Now, sir, thought is free: I pray you, bring a jig; I would not so much as make water, but in a your hand to the buttery-bar, and let it drink. sink-a-pace. What dost thou mean? is it a wc

Sir Anıl. Wherefore, sweetheart? what's your to hide virtues in? I did think, by the excellent metaphor ?

constitution of thy leg, it was formed under the star Mar. It's dry, sir.

of a galliard. Sir And. Why, I think so; I am not such an ass, Sir And. Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent but I can keep my hand dry. But what's your jest? | well in a flame-coloured stock.4 Shall we set about Mar. A dry jest, sir.

some revels ? Sir Anil. Are you full of them?

Sir To. What shall we do else? were we not Mar. Av, sir ; I have them at my fingers' ends: born under Taurus ? marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren.

Sir And. Taurus ? that's sides and heart.

[Exit MARIA. Sir To. No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let me Sir To. O knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary: see thee caper: ha! higher : ha, ha!-excellent ! When did I see thee so put down?

(Ereunt. Sir And. Never in your life, I think; unless you SCENE IV. A Room in the Duke's palace see canary put me down : Methinks, sometimes I

Enter VALENTINE, and Viola in man's attire. have no more wit than a christian, or an ordinary man has: but I am a great eater of beef, and, I be- Val. If the Duke continues these favours towards lieve, that does harm to my wit.

you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanced; Sir To. No question.

he hath known you but three days, and already you Sir And. An'I thought that, I'd forswear it. I'll are no stranger. ride home to-morrow, Sir Toby.

Vio. You either fear his humour, or my negli. Sir To. Pourquoy, my dear knight?

gence, that you call in question the continuance of Sir And. What is pourquoy? do or not do? I his love : Is he inconstant, sir, in his favours? would I had bestowed that time in the tongues, that Val. No, believe me. I have in fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting: 0, had I but followed the arts !

Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants. Sir To. Thon hadst thou had an excellent head

Vio. I thank you. Here comes the count. of hair.

Dheke. Who saw Cesario, ho ? Sir And. Why, would that have mended my hair?

Vio. On your attendance, my lord; here. Sir To. Past question ; for thou seest it will not

Duke. Stand you awhile aloof.-Cesario, curl by nature. Sir And. But it becomes me well enough, does' To thee the book even of my secret soul :

Thou knowest no less but all; I have unclasp'd not? 1 The old copy reads Castiliano vulgo. Warburton Frith. She was at once an hermaphrodite, a bawd,

2 i. e. Mall Cutpurse, whose real name was Mary proposed reading Castiliano rolto. In Englisli, put on prostitute, a bully, a thief, and a receiver of stolengels your Castilian contenance, i. e. grave serious looks." I have no doubt that Warburton was right, for that read: the Bankside, with her Walks in Man's Apparel, and.

A book called . The Madde Prankes of Merry Mall of ing is required by the context, and Castiliano rulgo has no meaning. But I have met with a passage in Hall's what purpose, by John Day,' was entered cu the StaSatires, B. iv. S. 2, which I think places it beyond a

tioners' books in 1610. Middleton and Decker wrote: doubt :

Comedy, of which she is the heroine, and a lite of her - he can kiss hand in gree,

was published in 1662, with her portrait in male allire. And with good grace bow it below the knee,

As this extraorilinary personage partook of both sexes, Or make a Spanish face with sawning cheer,

the curtain which Sir Toby mentions would not base With th’lland conge like a cavalier,

been unnecessarily drawn before such a picture of her And shake his head, and cringe his neck and side,'&c. too much delicacy nor too much decency was the cha