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Vio. Sure, my noble lord,

If fhe be fo abandon'd to her forrow

As it is fpoke, the never will admit me.

Duke. Be clamarous, and leap all civil bounds, Rather than make unprofited return.

Vio. Say, I do fpeak with her, my lord; What then?
Duke. O, then, unfold the paffion of my love,

Surprize her with difcourfe of my dear faith:
It shall become thee well to act my woes;
She will attend it better in thy youth,
Than in a nuncio of more grave afpect.
Vio. I think not fo, my lord.

Duke. Dear lad, believe it;

For they fhall yet belye thy happy years,
That fay, thou art a man: Diana's lip

Is not more smooth, and rubious; thy fmall pipe

Is as the maiden's organ, fhrill and found,
And all is "femblative a woman's part.

I know, thy constellation is right apt

For this affair :-Some four, or five, attend him;

All, if you will; for I myself am beft,

When least in company :-Profper well in this,
And thou fhalt live as freely as thy lord,

To call his fortunes thine.

Vio. I'll do my best.

To woo your lady: [Exit Duke.] yet, a barrful strife! Who-e'er I woo, myself would be his wife.

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[Exeunt.

Mar. Nay, either tell me where thou haft been, or I

femblative]-fitted to fuftain a woman's part, then performed by boys. barrful ftrife!]-a severe task, full of obstacles.

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will

will not open my lips, fo wide as a bristle may enter, in way of thy excufe: my lady will hang thee for thy abfence.

Clo. Let her hang me: he that is well hang'd in this world, needs fear no colours.

Mar. Make that good.

Clo. He fhall fee none to fear.

Mar. A good lenten anfwer: I can tell thee where that faying was born, of, I fear no colours.

Clo. Where, good miftrefs Mary?

Mar. In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in your foolery.

Clo. Well, God give them wifdom, that have it; and those that are fools, let them ufe their talents.

Mar. Yet you will be hang'd, for being fo long abfent, or be turn'd away; Is not that as good as a hanging to you?

Clo. Marry, a good hanging prevents & a bad marriage; and, for turning away, let " fummer bear it out.

Mar. You are refolute then?

Clo. Not fo neither; but I am refolv'd on two points. Mar. That, if one break, the other will hold; or, both break, your 1 gaskins fall.

Clo. Apt, in good faith, very apt! Well, go thy way; if fir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria.

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Mar. Peace, you rogue, no more o'that; here comes my lady: make your excufe wifely, you were beft. [Exit.

flenten]-fhort.

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8 a bad marriage ;]-with the criminal.

Jummer bear it out.]—which will leffen it's inconveniences.
gafkins]-wide breeches, fastened with tags, or points.

"Their points being broken,

"Down fell their hofe."

HENRY IV, Pt. I. A&t II, Sc. 4. Fal. and Peins.

Eve's fleft]-A wife for him.

Enter

Enter Olivia, and Malvolio.

Clo. Wit, and't be thy will, put me into good fooling! Those wits, that think they have thee, do very oft prove fools; and I, that am fure I lack thee, may pafs for a wife man: For what fays Quinapalus? Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit.God bless thee, lady!

Oli. Take the fool away.

Clo. Do you not hear fellows? take away the lady. Oli. Go to, you're a ' dry fool; I'll no more of you: befides, you grow TM dishonest.

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Clo. Two faults, Madonna, that drink and good counfel will amend: for give the dry fool drink, then is the fool not dry; bid the dishonest man mend himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if he cannot, let the botcher mend him: Any thing, that's mended, is but patch'd: virtue, that tranfgreffes, is but patch'd with fin; and fin, that amends, is but patch'd with virtue: If that this fimple fyllogifm will ferve, fo; if it will not, What remedy? as there is no true cuckold but calamity, fo beauty's a flower :-the lady bade take away the fool; therefore, I fay again, take her

away.

Oli. Sir, I bade them take away you.

Clo. Mifprifion in the highest degree !-Lady, Cucullus non facit monachum; that's as much as to fay, I wear not motley in my brain. Good Madonna, give me leave to prove you a fool.

Oli. Can you do it?

Clo. Dexterously, good Madonna.

Oli. Make your proof.

Clo. I must catechize you for it, Madonna; Good my mouse of virtue, answer me.

1 dry]-barren.

m difhoneft.]-indecent, lewd.

cuckold but calamity, fo beauty's a flower :]-school, counfellor; alluding to his threatened difcharge, and aiming a covert itroke at his lady.

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Oli.

Oli. Well, fir, for want of other idleness, I'll bide your proof.

Clo. Good Madonna, why mourn'st thou?

Oli. Good fool, for my brother's death.
Clo. I think, his foul is in hell, Madonna.
Oli. I know his foul is in heaven, fool.

Clo. The more fool you Madonna, to mourn for your brother's foul being in heaven.-Take away the fool, gen. tlemen.

Oli. What think you of this fool, Malvolio? doth he not mend?

Mal. Yes; and shall do, till the pangs of death fhake him: Infirmity, that decays the wife, doth ever make the better fool.

Clo, God fend you, fir, a speedy infirmity, for the better encreasing your folly! fir Toby will be fworn, that I am no fox; but he will not pafs his word for two pence that you are no fool.

Oli. How fay you to that, Malvolio?

Mal. I marvel your ladyship takes delight in fuch a barren rafcal; I faw him put down the other day with an ordinary fool, than has no more brain than a ftone: Look you now, he's out of his guard already; unless you laugh and minister occafion to him he is gagg'd. I proteft, I take these wise men, that crow fo at thefe set kind of fools, no better than the fools' zanies.

Oli. O, you are fick of felf love, Malvolio, and taste with a distemper'd appetite: to be generous, guiltless, and of free difpofition, is to take thofe things for birdbolts, that you deem cannon-bullets: There is no flander in an allow'd fool, though he do nothing but rail;

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thefe fet kind of fools,]-fools by profeffion. Pallow'd fool,]

"Go, you are allow'd."

LOVE'S LABOUR LOST, A&V, Sc. 2. Biron.

Nor

nor no railing in a known difcreet man, though he do no

thing but reprove.

Clo. Now, Mercury indue thee with leafing, for thou speak'ft well of fools!

Enter Maria.

Mar. Madam, there is at the gate a young gentleman, much defires to speak with you.

Oli. From the count Orfino, is it?

Mar. I know not, madam; 'tis a fair young man, and well attended.

Oli. Who of my people hold him in delay?

Mar. Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman.

Oli. Fetch him off, I pray you; he fpeaks nothing but madman; Fie on him! Go you, Malvolio: if it be a fuit from the count, I am fick, or not at home; what you will, to difmifs it. [Exit Malvolio.] Now you fee, fir, how your fooling grows old, and people diflike it.

Clo. Thou haft spoke for us, Madonna, as if thy eldest fon should be a fool: whofe fcull Joye cram with brains, for here comes one of thy kin has a moft weak pia mater!

Enter Sir Toby.

Oli. By mine honour, half drunk.-What is he at the gate, coufin?

Sir To. A gentleman.

· Oli. A gentleman? What gentleman ?

Sir To. 'Tis a gentleman here-[biccuping.]—A plague o'these pickle herring!-How now, fot?

Clo. Good Sir Toby,

a with leafing, for thou speak'ft well of fools !]-fibbing, for thou feigneft a good apology for fools-with learning, fince thou ufeft thy wit in favour of fools.

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