reason excites to this, that my lady loves me. She did commend n yellow stockings of late, she did praise my leg being cross-gartered; and in this she manifests herself to my love, and, with a kind of injunction, drives me to these habits of her liking. I thank my stars, I am happy. I will be strange, stout, in yellow stockings, and cross-gartered, even with the swiftness of putting on. Jove, and my stars be praised! Here is yet a postscript. Thou canst not choose but know who I am. If thou entertainest my love, let it appear in thy smiling; the smiles become thee well: therefore in my preseace still smile, dear my sweet, I pr'ythee. Jove, I thank thee.-I will smile; I will do every thing that thou wilt have me. [Exit. Fah. I will not give my part of this sport for a pension of thousands to be paid from the Sophy.

Sir To. I could marry this wench for this de

vice.

Sir And. So could I too.

Vio. Thy reason, man?

Clo. Troth, Sir, I can yield you none without words; and words are grown so false, I am loath to prove reason with them.

Vio. Iwarrant, 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

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?

Sir To. Shall I play my freedom at traytrip, and become thy bond-slave?

Sir And. I'faith, or I either.

Sir To. Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that, when the image of it leaves him, he must run mad.

Mar. Nay, but say true; does it work upon him?

Sir To. Like aqua-vitæ with a midwife. 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, follow me. Sir To. To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit!

Sir And. I'll make one too.

ACT III.

SCENE I-OLIVIA'S Garden.

[Exeunt.

Enter VIOLA, and CLOWN with a tabor. Vio. Save thee, friend, and thy music: Dost thou live by thy tabor?

Clo. No, Sir, I live by the church.
Vio. Art thou a churchman?

Clo. No such matter, Sir; I do live by the church: for I do live at my house, and my house doth stand by the church.

Vio. So thou may'st say, the king liest by a beggar, if a beggar dwell near him: or, the church stands by the tabor, if thy tabor stand by the church.

Clo. You have said, Sir.-To see this age!— A sentence is but a cheveril glove to a good wit; How quickly the wrong side may be turned outward!

Vio. Nay, that's certain; they, that dally nicely with words, may quickly make them

wanton.

➜ A boy's diversion three and trip. Dwells. Kid.

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 expenses for thee.

Clo. Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send thee a beard!

Vio. By my troth, I'll tell thee; I am almost sick for one; though I would not have it grow on my chin. Is thy lady within?

Clo. Would not a pair of these have bred, Sir? Vio. Yes, being kept together, and put to use.

Clo. I would play lord Pandarus* of Phrygia, Sir, to bring a Cressida to this Troilus.

Vio. I understand you, Sir; 'tis well begg'd. Clo. The matter, I hope, is not great, Sir, begging but a beggar; Cressida was a beggar. My lady is within, Sir. I will construe to them 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
As full of labour as a wise man's art:
That comes before his eye. This is a practice,
For folly, that he wisely shows, is fit;
But wise men, folly-fallen, quite taint their wit.
Enter Sir TOBY BELCH and Sir ANDREW AGUE-

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 urs! well.

Vio. My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your own most pregnant* 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.

send,

After the last enchantment you did here,
A ring in chase of you; so did I abuse
Myself, my servant, and, I fear me, you:
Under your hard construction must I sit,
To force that on you, in a shameful cunning,
Which you knew none of yours: What might
you think?

Have you not set mine honour at the stake,
And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts
That tyrannous heart can think? To one of
your receivingt

Enough is shown; a cyprus, not a bosom, Hides my poor heart: So let me hear you speak. Vio. I pity you.

Oli. That's a degree to love.

Vio. No, not a grise ;; for 'tis a vulgar proof, That very oft we pity enemies.

Oli. Why, then, methinks, 'tis time to smile again:

O world, how apt the poor are to be proud!
If one should be a prey, how much the better
To fall before the lion, than the wolf?
[Clock strikes.
The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.-
Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you:
And yet, when wit and youth is come to har-
vest,

Your wife is like to reap a proper man:
There lies your way, due west.

Cesario, by the roses of the spring,
By maidhood, honour, truth, and every thing,
I love thee so, that maugre* all thy pride,
Nor wit, nor reason, can my passion hide.
Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,
For, that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause:
But, rather, reason thus with reason fetter:
Love sought is good, but given unsought, is
better.

Vio. By innocence I swear, and by my youth,
I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth,
And that no woman has; nor never none
Shall mistress be of it, save I alone.
And so adieu, good madam; never more
Will I my master's tears to you deplore.

Oli. Yet come again: for thou, perhaps, may'st move

That heart, which now abhors, to like his love. [Exeunt.

SCENE II-A Room in OLIVIA's house. Enter Sir TOBY BELCH, Sir ANDREW AGUECHEEK, and FABIAN.

Sir And. No faith, I'll not stay a jot longer. Sir To. Thy reason, dear venom, give thy

Fab. I will prove it legitimate, Sir, upon the oaths of judgement 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 jest, 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 gift 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.

* In spite of

Sir And. And't be any way, it must be with alour; for policy I hate: I had as lief be a Brownist, 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 rstand brief; it is no matter how witty, so be eloquent, and full of invention: taunt him ith the licence of ink: if thou thou'st him Home 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 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: 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 wainropes cannot hale them together. For Andrew, 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.

Enter MARIA.

Sir To. Look, where the youngest wren of nine comes.

Mar. If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourselves into stitches, follow me: yon' gull Malvolio is turned heathen, a very renegado; for there is no Christian, that means to be saved by believing rightly, can ever believe such impossible passages of grossness. He's in yellow stockings.

Sir To. And cross-gartered?

Mar. Most villanously; like a pedant that keeps a school i'the church.-I have dogged him, like his murderer: He does obey every point of the letter that I dropped to betray him. He does smile his face into more lines, than are in the new map, with the augmentation of the Indies: you have not seen such a thing as 'tis ; I can hardly forbear hurling things at him. I know, my lady will strike him; if she do, he'll smile, and take't for a great favour. Sir To. Come, bring us, bring us where he is [Exeun

SCENE III-A Street. Enter ANTONIO and SEBASTIAN. Seb. I would not, by my will, have troubled you; But, since you make your pleasure of your pains, I will no further chide you.

Ant. I could not stay behind you; my desire, More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth; And not all love to see you, (though so much, As might have drawn one to a longer voyage,)

Separatists in Queen Elizabeth's reign.

? In Hertfordshire, which held forty persons.
1 Chamber
Waggon ropes.

+ Crabbed.

ger,

Unguided, and unfriended, often prove
Rough and unhospitable: My willing love,
The rather by these arguments of fear,
Set forth in your pursuit.

Seb. My kind Antonio,

I can no other answer make, but, thanks,
And thanks, and ever thanks: Often good turns
Are shuffled off with such uncurrent pay:
But, were my worth, as is my conscience, firm,
You should find better dealing. What's to do?
Shall we go see the reliques of this town?
Ant. To-morrow, Sir; best, first, go see your
lodging.

Seb. I am not weary, and 'tis long to-night;
I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes
With the memorials, and the things of fame,
That do renown this city.

Ant. Would, you'd pardon me;

I do not without danger walk these streets : Once, in a sea-fight, 'gainst the count his gallies, I did some service; of such note, indeed, That, were I ta'en here, it would scarce be an[people. Seb. Belike, you slew great number of his Ant. The offence is not of such a bloody nature;

swer'd.

Albeit the quality of the time, and quarrel,
Might well have given us bloody argument.
It might have since been answer'd in repaying
What we took from them; which, for traffic's
sake,

Most of our city did: only myself stood out:
For which, if I be lapsed in this place,
I shall pay dear.

Seb. Do not then walk too open.

Ant. It doth not fit me. Hold, Sir, here's my purse;

In the south suburbs, at the Elephant,
Is best to lodge: I will bespeak our diet,
Whiles you beguile the time, and feed your
knowledge,

With

Seb.

viewing of the town; there shall you
have me.
Why I your purse?

Ant. Haply, your eyes shall light upon some toy

You have desire to purchase; and your store,
I think, is not for idle markets, Sir.
Seb. I'll be your purse-bearer, and leave you

An hour.

Ant. To the Elephant.Seb. I do remember.

[for

[Exeunt.

I sent for thee upon a sad occasion.

Mal. Sad, lady? I could be sad: This does make some obstruction in the blood, this crossgartering; But what of that, if it please the

Let this fellow be looked to: Fellow! not Malvolio, nor after my degree, but fellow. Why, every thing adheres together; that no dram of a scruple, no scruple of a scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous or unsafe circumstance,-What can be said? Nothing, than can be, can come between me and the full prospect of my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked.

Re-enter MARIA, with Sir TOBY BELCH, and FABIAN.

Oli. Why, how dost thou, man? what is the

matter with thee?

Mal. Not black in my mind, though yellow in my legs: It did come to his hands, and commands shall be executed. I think, we do know the sweet Roman hand.

C. Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio?
Mal. To bed? ay, sweet-heart; and I'll come

to thee.

Oli. Heaven restore thee!

little, and Legion himself possessed him, yet I'll speak to him.

Fub. Here he is, here he is :-How is't with you, Sir? how is't with you, man?

Mal. Go off; I discard you; let me enjoy my private; go off.

Mar. Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did not I tell you ?-Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a care of him.

Mal. Ah, ha! does she so?

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: consider, he's an enemy to mankind.

Mal. Do you know what you say?

how he takes it at heart! Pray God, he be not Mar. La you, an you speak ill of the devil,

bewitched!

Fab. Carry his water to the wise woman.

Mar. Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning, if I live. My lady would not lose him for more than I'll say.

Mal. How now, mistress?
Mar. O lord!

Sir To. Pr'ythee, hold thy peace; this is not

Oli. Thy yellow stockings?

Mal. And wished to see thee cross-gartered.

Oli. Cross-gartered?

Mal. Go to: thou art made, if thou desirest to

be so ;

Oli. Am I made?

Mal. If not, let me see thee a servant still.
Oli. Why, this is very midsummer madness.+

Enter Servant.

Ser. Madam, the young gentleman of the count Orsino's is returned; I could hardly entreat him back: he attends your ladyship's pleasure.

Oli. I'll come to him. [ Exit Servant.] Good Maria, let this fellow be looked to. Where's my cousin Toby? Let some of my people have a special care of him; I would not have him miscarry for the half of my dowry.

[Exeunt OLIVIA and MARIA. Mal. Oh, ho! do you come near me now? no worse man than Sir Toby to look to me? This concurs directly with the letter: she sends him on purpose, that I may appear stubborn to him; for she incites me to that in the letter. Cast thy humble slough, says she; be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants,—let thy tongue tang with arguments of state,-put thyself into the trick of singularity; and, consequently, sets down the manner how; as, a sad face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in the habit of some Sir of note, and so forth. I have limed her; but it is Jove's doing, and Jove make me thankful! And, when she went away now, + Grave. Hot weather madness.

Caught her as a bird with birdlime.

me alone with him.

Sir To. Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, man! 'tis not for gravity to play at cherry-pitt with Satan: Hang him, foul collier!

Mar. Get him to say his prayers; good Sir Toby, get him to pray.

Mul. My prayers, minx?

Mar. No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godliness.

Mal. Go, hang yourselves all! you are idle shallow things: I ar am not of your element; you shall know more hereafter. [Exit.

Sir To. Is't possible?

Fab. If this were played 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, pursue him now; lest the device take air, and taint.

Fab. Why, we shall make him mad, indeed. Mar. The house will be the quieter.

Sir To. Come, we'll have him in a dark room, and bound. My niece is already in the belie that he is mad; we may carry it thus, for ou pleasure, and his penance, till our very pas time, 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 see, but see. * Companion.

+Jolly cock, beau and ang.

A play among boys.
Colliers were accounted great cheats.

Enter Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK.

Fab. More matter for a May-morning.

read.

jor.

Vio. With the same 'haviour that your passion bears,

Go on my master's griefs.

Oli. Here, wear this jewel for me, 'tis my picture;

Refuse it not, it hath no tongue to vex you: And, I beseech you, come again to-morrow. What shal! you ask of me, that I'll deny; That honour, sav'd, may upon asking give? Vio. Nothing but this, your true love for my

master.

Oli. How with mine honour may I give him Which I have given to you? [that Vio. I will acquit you.

Oli. Well, come again to-morrow: Fare thee well;

A fiend, like thee, might bear my soul to hell.
[Exis
Re-enter Sir TOBY BELCH, and FABIAN.
Sir To. Gentleman, God save thee.
Vio. And you, Sir.

sworn enemy.

Mar. You may have very fit occasion for't; he is now in some commerce with my lady, and will by and by depart.

Sir To. Go, Sir Andrew; scout me for him at the corner of the orchard, like a bum-bailiff: so soon as ever thou seest him, draw; and, as thou drawest, swear horrible; for it comes to pass oft, that a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent sharply twanged off, gives manhood more approbation than ever proof itself would have earned him. Away.

Sir And. Nay, let me alone for swearing. [Exit. 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 less; therefore this letter, being so excellently ignorant, will breed no terror in the youth, he will find it comes from a clodpole. But, Sir, I will deliver his challenge by word of mouth; set upon Ague-cheek a notable report of valour; and drive the gentleman, as, know, his youth will aptly receive it,) into a most hideous opinion of his rage, skill, fury, and impetuosity. This will so 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 some horrid message for a challenge.

[Exeunt Sir TOBY, FABIAN, and MARIA. Oli. I have said too much unto a heart of stone,

And laid mine honour too unchary out:

* Uncautiously.

Vio. You mistake, Sir; I am sure, no man hath any quarrel to me; my remembrance is very free and clear from any image of offence done to any man. ...

Sir To. You'll find it otherwise, I assure you: therefore, if you hold your life at any price, betake you to your guard; for your opposite hath in him what youth, strength, skill, and wrath, can furnish man withal.

Vio. I pray you, Sir, what is he?

Sir To. He is knight, dubbed with unhacked rapier, and on carpet consideration; but he is a devil in private brawl: souls and bodies hath he divorced three; and his incensement at this moment is so implacable, that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death and sepulchre: hob, nob, is his word; give't, or take't.

Vio. I will return again into the house, and desire some conduct of the lady. I am no fighter. I have heard of some kind of men, that put quarrels purposely on others, to taste their valour: belike, this is a man of that quirk.‡

Sir To. Sir, no; his indignation derives itself out of a very competent injury; therefore, get you on, and give him his desire. Back you shall not to the house, unless you undertake that with me, which with as much safety you might answer him: therefore, on, or strip your sword stark naked; for meddle you must, that's certain, or forswear to wear iron about

you.

Vio. This is as uncivil, as strange. I beseech you, do me this courteous office, as to know of the knight what my offence to him is; it is something of my negligence, nothing of my

purpose.

Sir To. I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by this gentleman till my return.

[Exit Sir TOBY. Vio. Pray you, Sir, do you know of this

matter?