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Oli. I'll come to him. Good Maria, let this fellow be look'd to. Where's my coufin Toby? let fome of my people have a special care of him; I would not have him miscarry for the half of my dowry. [Exit.
Mal. Oh, ho do you come near me now? no worse man than fir Toby to look to me? This concurs directly with the letter: fhe fends him on purpose, that I may appear stubborn to him; for the incites me to that in the letter. Caft thy humble flough, says fhe ;-be 'oppofite with a kinfman,-furly with fervants,-let thy tongue tang with arguments of ftate,-put thyself into the trick of fingularity ;— and, confequently, fets down the manner how; as, a fad face, a reverend carriage, a flow tongue, in the habit of fome fir of note, and fo forth. I have lim'd her: but it is Jove's doing, and Jove make me thankful! And, when she went away now, Let this fellow be look'd to: *Fellow! not Malvolio, nor after my degree, but fellow. Why, every thing adheres together; that no dram of a fcruple, no fcruple of a fcruple, no obftacle, no incredulous or unfafe circumstance,-What can be faid? Nothing, that can be, can come between me and the full profpect of my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked.
Re-enter Maria, with Sir Toby 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 poffeft him, yet I'll speak to him.
Fab. Here he is, here he is: How is't with you, fir? how is't with you, man?
Mal. Go off; I difcard you; let me enjoy my private ; go off.
oppofite with]-adverse, hoftile; thwart him constantly.
Mar. Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did not I tell you?-fir Toby, my lady prays you to have a care of him.
Mal. Ah, ha! does the fo?
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: confider, 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 bewitch'd!
Fab. Carry his water to the wife woman.
Mar. Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning, if I live. My lady would not lofe him for more than I'll fay.
Mal. How now, mistress?
Sir To. Pr'ythee, hold thy peace, this is not the way: Do you not fee, you move him? let me alone with him.
Fab. No way but gentleness; gently, gently: the fiend is rough, and will not be roughly us'd.
Sir To. Why, how now, my bawcock? how doft thou, chuck?
Sir To. Ay, biddy, come with me. What man! 'tis not for gravity to play at "cherry-pit with fatan: Hang him, foul collier!
Mar. Get him to fay his prayers; good fir Toby, get him to pray.
Mal. My prayers, minx?
Mar. No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godlinefs. Mal. Go, hang yourselves all! you are idle fhallow
my bawcock P]-my brave fellow.
things: I am not of your element; you shall know more hereafter.
Sir To. Is't poffible?
Fab. If this were play'd 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, purfue him now; left the device take air,
Fab. Why, we shall make him mad, indeed.
Sir To. Come, we'll have him in a dark room, and bound. My niece is already in the belief that he is mad; we may carry it thus, for our pleasure, and his penance, till our very paftime, tired out of breath, prompt 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 fee, but fee.
Enter Sir Andrew.
Fab. More matter
for a May morning.
Sir And. Here's the challenge, read it, I warrant there's vinegar and pepper
Fab. Is't fo fawcy?
Sir And. Ay, is't? I warrant him: do but read.
Sir To. Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind, why I do call thee fo, for I will fhew thee no reafon for't.
Fab. A good note: that keeps you from the blow of the law.
crown thee for a finder of madmen :]-the coroner, may have been so called from finding felfmurder so often lunacy.
Y for a May morning.]-of merriment.
Sir To. Thou com'ft to the lady Olivia, and in my fight fhe ufes thee kindly: but thou lieft in thy throat, that is not the matter I challenge thee for.
Fab. Very brief, and exceeding good fenfe-lefs.
Sir To. I will way-lay thee going home; where if it be thy chance to kill me,
Sir To. Thou kill' ft me like a rogue and a villain.
Fab. Still you keep o'the windy fide of the law: Good. Sir To. Fare thee well; And God have mercy upon one of our fouls! He may have mercy upon mine; but my hope is better, and so look to thyself. Thy friend, as thou useft him, and thy fworn enemy, ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK.
Sir To. If this letter move him not, his legs cannot : I'll give't him.
Mar. You may have very fit occafion for't; he is now in fome commerce with my lady, and will by and by depart.
Sir To. Go, fir Andrew; fcout me for him at the cor ner of the orchard, like a bum-bailiff: so foon as everthou feest him, draw; and, as thou draw'ft, swear horribly for it comes to pass oft, that a terrible oath, with a fwaggering accent fharply twang'd off, gives manhood more approbation than ever proof itself would have earn'd him. Away.
Sir And. Nay, let me alone for fwearing.
Sir To. Now will not I deliver his letter: for the behaviour of the young gentleman gives him out to be of good capacity and breeding; his employment between his lord and my niece confirms no lefs; therefore this letter, being fo excellently ignorant, will breed no terror in the
2 better.]-to escape unhurt, and not to put it to an immediate trial. a approbation]-credit
M m 2
youth, he will find it comes from a clodpole. But fir, I will deliver his challenge by word of mouth; fet upon Ague-cheek a notable report of valour; and drive the gentleman, (as I know, his youth will aptly receive it) into a most hideous opinion of his rage, fkill, fury, and impetuofity. This will fo fright them both, that they will kill one another by the look, like cockatrices.
Enter Olivia and Viola.
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 fome horrid meffage for a challenge. [Exeunt.
Oli. I have faid too much unto a heart of stone,
And laid mine honour too unchary out :
There's fomething in me, that reproves my fault;
Vio. With the fame haviour that your paffion bears, Goes on my master's grief.
Oli. Here, wear this jewel for me, 'tis my picture; Refuse it not, it hath no tongue to vex you: And, I befech you, come again to-morrow. What shall you afk of me, that I'll deny; That honour, fav'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?
Vio. I will acquit you.
Oli. Well, come again to-morrow: Fare thee well;
A fiend, like thee, might bear my foul to hell.
blaid mine bonour too unchary out :]-expofed it incautiously. jewel]-trinket.