eloquent, and full of invention: teunt him with Seb. I am not weary, and 'tis long to night; the license of ink: if thou thou'st him some thrice, I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes

Ant.

It shall not be amiss; and as many lies as will lie With the memorials, and the things of fame,
in thy sheet of paper, although the sheet were big That do renown this city.
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 manikin 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.

I

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 An- I drew, 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.

"Would, you'd pardon me;
do not without danger walk these streets :
Once, in a sea-fight, 'gainst the count his galleys,
I did some service; of such note, indeed,
That, were I ta'en here, it would scarce be an-
swer'd.

Seb. Belike, you slew great number of his people.
Ant. The offence is not of such a bloody nature;
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 froin them; which, for traffic sake,
Most of our city did: only myself stood out:
For which, if I be lapsed in this place,
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 know
ledge,

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

I

Mar. If you desire the spleen, and will laugh Ant. Haply, your eye shall light upon some toy yourselves into stitches, follow me: yon' gull Mal-You have desire to purchase; and your store, volio is turned heathen, a very renegado; for there think, is not for idle markets, sir." is no Christian, that means to be saved by believing Seb. I'll be your purse-bearer, and leave you for rightly, can ever believe such impossible passages An hour. 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.

Ant.
Seb.

To the Elephant.

I do remember.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-Olivia's Garden. Enter Olivia
and Maria.

How shall I feast him? what bestow on him?
Oli. I have sent after him: He says, he'll come;
For youth is bought more oft, than begg'd, or bor-
row'd.
speak too loud.

I
Where is Malvolio ?-he is sad, and civil,
[Exeunt.
And suits well for a servant with my fortunes;
SCENE III-A street. Enter Antonio and Se-Where is Malvolio?

bastian.

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,)
But jealousy what might befall your travel,
Being skilless in these parts; which to a stranger,
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.

(1) In Hertfordshire, which held forty persons, Chamber. (3) Wagon ropes,

Mar.

He's coming, madam;

But in strange manner. He is sure possess'd
Oli. Why, what's the matter? does he rave?
Mar.
No, madam,

He does nothing but smile: your ladyship
Were best have guard about you, if he come;
For, sure, the man is tainted in his wits.

Oli. Go call him hither.-I'm as mad as he,
If sad and merry madness equal be.—
Enter Malvolio.

How now, Malvolio?

Mal. Sweet lady, ho, ho! [Smiles fantastically.
Oli. Smil'st thou?

I sent for thee upon a sad occasion.

Mal. Sad, lady? I could be sad: this does make some obstruction in the blood, this cross-gartering: but what of that, if it pleases the eye of one, it is with me as the very true sonnet is: Please one and please all.

Oli. Why, how dost thou, man? what is the mat. ter with thee?

Mal. Not black in my mind, though yellow in

(4) Wealth. (5) Caught.

Grave and demure,

(7) Grave,

my legs: It did come to his hands, and commands shall be executed. I think, we do know the sweet Roman hand.

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

Oli. God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so, and kiss thy hand so oft?

Mar. How do you, Malvolio?

Mal. At your request? Yes; nightingales swer daws.

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

Mar. Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did I not 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 an-devil: consider, he's an enemy to mankind. # Mal. Do you know what you say?

Mar. Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady?

Mal. Be not afraid of greatness :-'Twas well writ.

Oli. What meanest thou by that, Malvolio?
Mal. Some are born great,—

Oli. Ha?

Mal. If not, let me see thee a servant still.
Oli. Why, this is very midsummer madness.1
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.

Mar. La you, an you speak ill of the devil, how he takes it at heart! Pray God, he be not 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. Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, man! 'tis not for gravity to play at cherry-pits with Satan: Hang him, foul collier!"

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

Mal. 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 am not of your element; you shall know more hereafter. [Exil.

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.

Olt. 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. [Exit Olivia and Mar. 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 the humble slough, says she; be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants, let thy tongue tang with arguments Sir To. Come, we'll have him in a dark room, of state,-put thyself into the trick of singularity;—and bound. My niece is already in the belief that and, consequently, sets down the manner how; as, he is mad; we may carry it thus for our pleasure, a sad face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in and his penance, till our very pastime, tired out of the habit of some sir of note, and so forth. I have breath, prompt us to have mercy on him: at which limed her; but it is Jove's doing, and Jove make time, we will bring the device to the bar, and me thankful! And, when she went away now, Let crown thee for a finder of madmen. But see, but see. 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, that 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."

Enter Sir Andrew Ague-cheek.

Fab. More matter for a May morning.
Sir And. Here's the challenge, read it; I war-
rant, there's vinegar and pepper in't.
Fab. Is't so saucy?

Sir And. Ay, is it, I warrant him: do but read. Sir To. Give me. [reads.] Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art but a scurvy fellow.

Fab. Good, and valiant.

Re-enter Maria, with Sir Toby Belch, and Fabian. Sir To. Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? Sir To. Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind, If all the devils in hell be drawn in little, and Le-why I do call thee so, for I will show thee no reason gion himself possessed him, yet I'll speak to him. fort. Fab. Here he is, here he is :-How is't with you, sir? how is't with you, man?

Fab. A good note: that keeps you from the blow of the law.

(4) Jolly cock, beau and coq.

(5) A play among boys.

(6) Colliers were accounted great cheats,

Re-enter Sir Toby Belch, and Fabian.

Sir To. Thou comest to the lady Olivia, and in A fiend, like thee, might bear my soul to hell. [Ex. my sight she uses thee kindly but thou liest in thy throat, that is not the matter challenge thee for. Fab. Very brief, and exceeding good sense-less. Sir To. I will way-lay thee going home; where if it be thy chance to kill me,—

Fab. Good.

Sir To. Thou killest me like a rogue and a villain. Fab. Still you keep o' the windy side of the law: Good.

Sir To. Fare thee well; And God have mercy upon one of our souls! He may have mercy upon mine; but my hope is better, and so look to thyself. Thy friend, as thou usest him, and thy Andrew Ague-cheek. Sir To. If this letter moves him not, his legs cannot: I'll giv't him.

sworn enemy.

Mar. You may have very fit occasion for't; he 18 now in some commerce with my lady, and will by and by depart.

Sir To. Gentleman, God save thee.
Vio. And you, sir.

Sir To. That defence thou hast, betake thee
to't: of what nature the wrongs are thou hast
done him, I know not; but thy intercepter, full of
despight, bloody as the hunter, attends thee at the
orchard end: dismount thy tuck,2 be yare in thy
deadly.
preparation, for thy assailant is quick, skilful, and

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. Go, sir Andrew; scout me for him at the corner of the orchard, like a bum-bailiff: so Sir To. He is knight, dubbed with unhacked soon as ever thou seest him, draw; and as thou rapier, and on carpet consideration; but he is a drawest, swear horrible; for it comes to pass oft, devil in private brawl: souls and bodies hath he that a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent divorced three; and his incensement at this mosharply twanged off, gives manhood more approbation than ever proof itself would have earned ment is so implacable, that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death and sepulchre: hob, nob, is him. Away. his word; give't, or take't.

Sir And. Nay, let me alone for swearing. [Ex.

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. 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 igSir To. Sir, no; his indignation derives itself norant, will breed no terror in the youth, he will find it comes from a clodpole. But, sir, I will de-out of a very competent injury; therefore, get you liver his challenge by word of mouth; set upon the house, unless you undertake that with me, on, and give him his desire. Back you shall not to Ague-cheek a notable report of valour; and drive which with as much safety you might answer him: the gentleman (as, I know, his youth will aptly re- therefore, on, or strip your sword stark naked; ceive it,) into a most hideous opinion of his rage, for meddle you must, that's certain, or forswear to skill, fury, and impetuosity. This will so fright

them both, that they will kill one another by the wear iron about you. look, like cockatrices.

Enter Olivia and Viola.

Sir To. I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay 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 them way, till he take leave, and presently after him. by this gentleman till my return. [Exit Sir Toby, Fab. Here he comes with your niece: give of my negligence, nothing of my purpose. Vio. Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter? Fab. I know, the knight is incensed against you, circumstance more. even to a mortal arbitrament; but nothing of the

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:
There's something in me, that reproves my fault;
But such a headstrong potent fault it is,
That it but mocks reproof.

Vio. I beseech you, what manner of man is he? Fab. Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read him by his form, as you are like to find him in the proof of his valour. He is, indeed, sir, the most skilful, bloody, and fatal opposite that you could possibly have found in any part of Illyria: will you pic-walk towards him? I will make your peace with him, if I can.

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

Go on my master's griefs.

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

ture;

Refuse it not, it hath no tongue to vex you:
And, I beseech you, come again to-morrow.
What shall 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

Vio. I shall be much bound to you for't: I am one, that would rather go with sir priest, than sir knight: I care not who knows so much of my mettle. [Exeunt.

Re-enter Sir Toby, with Sir Andrew.

Sir To. Why, man, he's a very devil; I have not seen such a virago. I had a pass with him, rapier, scabbard, and all, and he gives me the stuck-in, with such a mortal motion, that it is inevitable; and on the answer, he pays you as surely

(7) Stoccata, an Italian term in fencing.
(8) Does for you.

as your fect hit the ground they step on: they say, he has been fencer to the Sophy.

Sir And. Pox on't, I'll not meddle with him. Sir To. Ay, but he will not now be pacified: Fabian can scarce hold him yonder.

Sir And. Plague on't; an I thought he had been valiant, and so cunning in fence, I'd have seen him damned ere I'd have challenged him. Let him let the matter slip, and I'll give him my horse, grey Capilet.

Sir To. I'll make the motion: stand here, make a good show on't; this shall end without the perdition of souls: marry, I'll ride your horse as well as I ride you. [Aside.

Re-enter Fabian and Viola.

What will you do? Now my necessity
Makes me to ask you for my purse: It grieves me
Much more, for what I cannot do for you,
Than what befalls myself. You stand amaz'd;
But be of comfort.

2 Off. Come, sir, away.

Ant. I must entreat of you some of that money.
Vio. What money, sir?

For the fair kindness you have show'd me here,
And, part, being prompted by your present trouble,
Out of my lean and low ability

I'll lend you something: my having is not much;
I'll make division of my present with you:
Hold, there is half my coffer.
Ant.
Will you deny me now!
Is't possible, that my deserts to you

Vio.

I know of none;

I have his horse [to Fab.] to take up the quarrel; Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery, I have persuaded him, the youth's a devil. Lest that it make me so unsound a man, Fab. He is as horribly conceited' of him; and As to upbraid you with those kindnesses pants, and looks pale, as if a bear were at his That I have done for you. heels. Sir To. There's no remedy, sir; he will fight with you for his oath sake: marry, he hath better bethought him of his quarrel, and he finds that now scarce to be worth talking of: therefore draw, for the supportance of his vow; he protests, he will not hurt you.

man.

Vio. Pray God defend me! A little thing| would make me tell them how much I lack of a [Aside. Fab. Give ground, if you see him furious. Sir To. Come, sir Andrew, there's no remedy; the gentleman will, for his honour's sake, have one bout with you: he cannot by the duello avoid it: but he has promised me, as he is a gentleman and a soldier, he will not hurt you. Come on; to't. Sir And. Pray God, he keep his oath! [Draws.

I

Nor know I you by voice, or any feature:
hate ingratitude more in a man,
Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness,
or any taint of vice, whose strong corruption
Inhabits our frail blood.

I

Ant.

O heavens themselves!
2 Off. Come, sir, I pray you, go.
Ant. Let me speak a little. This youth that
you see here,

snatch'd one half out of the jaws of death;
And to his image, which, methought, did promise
Reliev'd him with such sanctity of love,-
Most venerable worth, did I devotion.

1 Off. What's that to us? The time goes by;

away.

Ant. But, O, how vile an idol proves this god!-
Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame.-
In nature there's no blemish, but the mind;
None can be call'd deform'd, but the unkind:
Virtue is beauty; but the beauteous-evil
Are empty truiks, o'erflourish'd' by the devil.

1 Of. The man grows mad; away with him. Come, come, sir.

Ant. Lead me on. [Exe. Officers, with Antonio.
Vio. Methinks, his words do from such passion
fly,

That he believes himself; so do not I.
Prove true, imagination, O prove true,
That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you!

Sir To. Come hither, knight; come hither, Fa bian; we'll whisper o'er a couplet or two of most

Fab. O good sir Toby, hold; here come the Yet living in my glass; even such and so, officers. In favour was my brother; and he went Sir To. I'll be with you anon. [To Antonio. Still in this fashion, colour, ornament, Vio. Pray, sir, put up your sword, if you please. For him I imitate: 0, if it prove, [To Sir Andrew. Tempests are kind, and salt waves fresh in love! Sir And. Marry, will I, sir?-and, for that I promised you, I'll be as good as my word: He will bear you easily, and reins well.

1 Off. This is the man; do thy office. 2 Off. Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit Of count Orsino.

[Exit.

Sir To. A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward than a hare: his dishonesty appears, in leaving his friend here in necessity, and denying him; and for his cowardship, ask Fabian.

Fab. A coward, a most devout coward, reli gious in it.

Sir And. 'Slid, I'll after him again, and beat him. Sir To. Do, cuff him soundly, but never draw thy sword.

Sir And. An I do not,

Fab. Come, let's see the event.

(4) In the reflection of my own figure.

[Exit,

Sir To. I dare lay any money, 'twill be nothing|In this uncivil and unjust extent

yet.

ACT IV.

[Exeunt. Against thy peace. Go with me to my house;
And hear there how many fruitless pranks
This ruffian hath botch'd up, that thou thereby
May'st smile at this: thou shalt not choose, but go;
He started one poor heart of mine in thee.
Do not deny: beshrew his soul for me,

SCENE I.-The street before Olivia's house.
Enter Sebastian and Clown.

Clo. Will you make me believe, that I am not sent for you?

Seb. Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow; Let me be clear of thee.

Clo. Well held out, i'faith! No, I do not know you; nor I am not sent to you by my lady, to bid you come speak with her; nor your name is not master Cesario; nor this is not my nose neither.Nothing, that is so, is so.

Seb. I pr'ythee, vent' thy folly somewhere else; thou know'st not me.

Seb. What relish is in this? how runs the stream?
Or I am mad, or else this is a dream:-
Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;
If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!
Oli. Nay, come, I pr'ythee: 'would, "thou'dst be
rul'd by me!

Seb. Madam, I will.

Oli.

O, say so, and so be! [Exe.

SCENE II-A room in Olivia's house. Enter
Maria and Clown.

Mar. Nay, I pr'ythee, put on this gown, and Clo. Vent my folly! he has heard that word of this beard; make him believe thou art sir Topas some great man, and now applies it to a fool. the curate; do it quickly: I'll call sir Toby the Vent my folly! I am afraid this great lubber, the whilst. [Exit Maria. world, will prove a cockney.-I pr'ythee now, un- Clo. Well, I'll put it on, and I will dissemble gird thy strangeness, and tell me what I shall vent myself in't; and I would I were the first that ever to my lady; shall I vent to her, that thou art dissembled in such a gown. I am not fat enough coming? to become the function well; nor lean enough to be thought a good student; but to be said, an honest man, and a good housekeeper, goes as fairly, as to say, a careful man, and a great scho❤ lar. The competitors' enter.

Seb. I pr'ythee, foolish Greek, depart from me;
There's money for thee; if you tarry longer,
I shall give worse payment.

Clo. By my troth, thou hast an open hand:These wise men, that give fools money, get themselves a good report after fourteen years' purchase.

Enter Sir Andrew, Sir Toby, and Fabian. Sir And. Now, sir, have I met you again? there's for you.

Enter Sir Toby Belch and Maria. Sir To. Jove bless thee, master parson. Clo. Bonos dies, sir Toby: for as the old hermit [Striking Sebastian. of Prague, that never saw pen and ink, very witSeb. Why, there's for thee, and there, and there: tily said to a niece of king Gorbodue, That, that is, are all the people mad? Beating Sir Andrew. is: so I, being master parson, am master parson; for what is that, but that? and is, but is? Sir To. To him, sir Topas.

Sir To. Hold, sir, or I'll throw your dagger o'er

the house.

Clo. This will I tell my lady straight: I would not be in some of your coats for two-pence.

[Exit Clown, Sir To. Come on, sir; hold. [Holding Seb. Sir And. Nay, let him alone, I'll go another way to work with him; I'll have an action of battery against him, if there be any law in Illyria: though I struck him first, yet it's no matter for that. Seb. Let go thy hand.

Sir To. Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier, put up your iron: you are well fleshed; come on.

Seb. I will be free from thee. What would'st

thou now?

If thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword.
[Draws.
Sir To. What, what? Nay, then I must have
an ounce or two of this malapert blood from you.
[Draws.
Enter Olivia.

Oli. Hold, Toby; on thy life, I charge thee, hold.
Sir To. Madam?

Oli. Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch,
Fit for the mountains, and the barbarous caves,
Where manners ne'er were preach'd! out of my
sight!

Be not offended, dear Cesario:-
Rudesby, be gone!-I pr'ythee, gentle friend,

[Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian.
Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway
(1) Let out. (2) Rude fellow. (3) Violence
Made up.
(5) Ill betide.

Clo. What, hoa, I say,-Peace in this prison !
Sir To. The knave counterfeits well; a good

knave.

Mal. [in an inner chamber.] Who calls there?
Malvolio the lunatic.
Clo. Sir Topas, the curate, who comes to visit

Mal. Sir Topas, sir Topas, good sir Topas, go to my lady.

Clo. Out, hyperbolical fiend! how vexest thou this man? talkest thou nothing but of ladies? Sir To. Well said, master parson.

Mal. Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged!good sir Topas, do not think I am mad; they have

laid me here in hideous darkness.

Clo. Fie, thou dishonest Sathan! I call thee by the most modest terms: for I am one of those gentle ones, that will use the devil himself with courtesy: say'st thou, that house is dark?

Mal. As hell, sir Topas.

Clo. Why, it hath bay-windows, transparent as barricadoes, and the clear stones towards the southnorth are as lustrous as cbony; and yet complainest thou of obstruction?

Mal. I am not mad, sir Topas; I say to you, this house is dark.

Clo. Madman, thou errest: I say, there is no darkness, but ignorance: in which thou art more puzzled, than the Egyptians in their fog.

Mal. I say, this house is as dark as ignorance, though ignorance were as dark as hell; and I say there was never man thus abused: I am no more