Sir To. Excellent wench, say I. Mal. M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.-Nay, but first, let me see,-let me see,-let me see. Fab. What a dish of poison hath she dressed him! Sir To. And with what wing the stannyel checks at it! Mal. I may command where I adore. Why, she may command me: I serve her, she is my lady. Why, this is evident to any formal capacity. There is no obstruction in this;-And the end,-What should that alphabetical position portend? if I could make that resemble something in me,Softly!-M, O, A, 1.— Sir To. O, ay! make up that:-he is now at a cold scent. Fab. Sowter will cry upon't, for all this, though it be as rank as a fox. Mal. M,-Malvolio;-M,-why, that begins my Sir To. 0, for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye! Mal. Calling my officers about me, in my branch-name. ed velvet gown; having come from a day-bed, where I left Olivia sleeping. Sir To. Fire and brimstone ! Mal. And then to have the humour of state: and after a demure travel of regard,-telling them, I know my place, as I would they should do theirs,to ask for my kinsman Toby: Sir To. Bolts and shackles ! Fab. O, peace, peace, peace! now, now. Mal. Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for him: I frown the while; and, perchance, wind up my watch, or play with some rich jewel. Toby approaches; court'sies there to me: Sir To. Shall this fellow live? Fab. Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace. Mal. I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar smile with an austere regard of control: Sir To. And does not Toby take you a blow o' the lips then? Mal. Saying, Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast me on your niece, give me this prerogative of speech : Sir To. What, what? Mal. You must amend your drunkenness. Fab. Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of oar plot. Mal. Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish knight; Sir And. That's me, I warrant you. Sir And. I knew, 'twas I; for many do call me fool. [Taking up the letter. Fab. Now is the woodcock near the gin. Sir To. O, peace! and the spirit of humours intimate reading aloud to him! Mal. By my life, this is my lady's hand: these be her very C's, her U's, and her T's; and thus makes she her great P's. It is, in contempt of question, her hand. Sir And. Her C's, her U's, and her T's: Why that? Mal. [reads.] To the unknown beloved, this, and my good wishes: her very phrases !-By your leave, wax.-Soft and the impressure her Lucrece, with which she uses to seal: 'tis my lady: To whom should this be? Fab. This wins him, liver and all. But who? Lips do not move, No man must know. No man must know. What follows? the numbers altered! No man must know :-If this should be thee, Malvolio? Sir To. Marry, hang thee, brock! But silence, like a Lucrece knife, With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore; Fab. A fustian riddle! Fab. Did not I say, he would work it out? the cur is excellent at faults. Mal. M,-But then there is no consonancy in the sequel; that suffers under probation: A should follow, but o does. Fab. And O shall end, I hope. Sir To. Ay, or I'll cudgel hin, and make him cry, O. Mal. And then I comes behind. Fab. Ay, an you had an eye behind you, you might see more detraction at your heels, than fortunes before you. ber. Mal. M, O, A, I-This simulation is not as the former :-and yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of these letters are in my name. Soft; here follows prose.-If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I am above thee; but be not afraid of greatness: Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them. Thy fates open their hands; let thy blood and spirit embrace them. And, to inure thyself to what thou art like to be, cast thy humble slough, and appear fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants: let thy tongue tang arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of singularity: She thus advises thee, that sighs for thee. Remember who commended thy yellow stockings; and wished to see thee ever cross-gartered: I say, rememGo to; thou art made, if thou desirest to be so; if not, let me see thee a steward still, the fellow of servants, and not worthy to touch fortune's fingers. Farewell. She that would alter services with thee, The fortunate unhappy. Day-light and champian discovers not more: this is open. I will be proud, I will read politick authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash cff gross acquaintance, I will be point-de-vice, the very man. I do not now fool myself, to let imagination jade me; for every reason excites to this, that my lady loves me. She did commend my 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 1 am. If thou entertainest my love, let it appear in thy smiling; thy smiles become thee well: "therefore in my presence 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. Fab. 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 device: Sir And. So could I too. Sir To. And ask no other dowry with her, but such another jest. 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 To. Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, 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 excel lent devil of wit! Sir And. I'll make one too. ACT III. SCENE I. Olivia's Garden. [Exeunt. the Vio. Art thou a churchman ? Clo. No such matter, sir; I do live by church; for I do live at my house, and my house doth stand by the church. Vio. So thou may'st say, the king lies by a beggar, if a beggar dwell near him; or the church stands by thy 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. Clo. I would therefore, my sister had had no name, sir. Vio. Why, man? Clo. Why, sir, her name's a word; and to dally with that word, might make my sister wanton But, indeed, words are very rascals, since bonds. disgraced them. 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. I warrant, 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 bigger; I am, indeed, not her fool, but her 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 expences 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. Vio. This fellow's wise enough to play the fool; Vio. And you, sir. Sir And. Dieu vous garde, monsieur. Vio. Et vous aussi; votre serviteur. my Sir And. I hope, sir, you are: and I am yours. Sir To. Will you encounter the house? niece is desirous you should enter, if your trade be to her. Vio. I am bound to your niece, sir: I mean, she is the list of my voyage. 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 odours! 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. Vio. Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess. Vio. And he is yours, and his must needs be That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your you do redeem it by some laudable attempt, either receiving 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, Oli. Why, then, methinks, 'tis time to smile again: Oli. Stay: of valour, or policy. Sir And. And't be any way, it must be with valour; 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 rcport 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 curst and brief; it is no matter how witty, so it be eloquent and full of invention; taunt him with the licence of ink: if thou thou'st him some 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 am.matter: About it: I pr'ythee, tell me, what thou think'st of me. Oli. O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful A murd'rous guilt shows not itself more soon [noon. By maidhood, honour, truth, and every thing, SCENE II.--A Room in Olivia's House. Enter Sir Toby Belch, Sir Andrew Ague-cheek, and Fabian. Sir And. No, faith, I'll not stay a jot longer. drew. Sir And. As plain as I see you now. Fab. This was a great argument of love in her toward you. Sir And. 'Slight! will you make an ass o' me? Fab. I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of judgment and reason. Sir To. And they have been grand jury-men, since before Noah was a sailor. 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. yourselves into stitches, follow me; yon gull MalMar. If you desire the spleen, and will laugh volio 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 villainously; like a pedant that keeps a school i' the church. I have dogged him, like letter that I dropped to betray him. He does smile his murderer: He does obey every point of the his face into more lines than are in the new map, not seen such a thing as 'tis; I can hardly forbear with the augmentation of the Indies: you have 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. SCENE III.-A Street. Enter Antonio and Sebastian. Fah. She did show favour to the youth in your Ant. I could not stay behind you; my desire, sight, only to exasperate you, to awake your dor- More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth; mouse valour, to put fire in your heart, and brim-And not all love to see you, (though so much, stone in your liver: You should then have accosted As might have drawn one to a longer voyage,) her; and with some excellent jests, fire-new from But jealousy what might befall your travel, the mint, you should have banged the youth into Being skilless in these parts; which to a stranger, dumbness. This was looked for at your hand, and Unguided, and unfriended, often prove this was baulked the double gilt of this oppor- Rough and unhospitable: My willing love, tunity you let time wash off, and you are now sailed The rather by these arguments of fear, into the north of my lady's opinion; where you will Set forth in your pursuit. hang like an icicle on a Dutchman's beard, unless Seb. My kind Antonio, I can no other answer make, but, thanks, Ant. To-morrow, sir; best, first, go see your Seb. I am not weary, and 'tis long to night; With the memoriais, and the things of fame, Ant. 'Would you'd pardon me; Seb. Do not then walk too open. Ant. It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here's my Ant. Haply, your eye shall light upon some toy Seb. I'll be your purse-bearer, and leave you for Ant. To the Elephant.- I do remember. Mal. If not, let me see the a servant still. 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 hum[Exeunt.le slough, says she ;--be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants,-let thy tongue tang with a guments of state,-put thyself into the trick of singu larity; 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 love's doing, and Jove make me thankful! And, when she went away now, 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 circuinstance,- 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. Oli. I have sent after him. He says he'll come; Where is Malvolio?-he is sad, and civil, Mar. He's coming, madam; Mar. He does nothing but smile: your ladyship How now, Malvolio? Mal. Sweet lady, ho, ho. Oli. Smil'st thou ? Re-enter Maria, with Sir Toby Belch and Fabian. Sir To. Which way is he, in the name of sanc tity? If all the devils in hell be drawn in little, and Legion himself possessed him, yet I'll speak to him. Fab. Here he is, here he is :--How is't with you, [Smiles fantastically. sir? how is't with you, man? 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 please the eye of one, it is with me as the very true sonnet is: Please one, and please all. 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 Oli. Why, how dost thou man? what is the mat-gently with him; let me alone. How do you, Malter 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. Oli. Wilt thou go to bed, Malrolio? 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? volio? how is't with you? What, man! defy the 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 hi for more than I'll say. of the device, man. Mar. Nay, pursue him now; lest the device take air, and taint. 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 pastime, 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. Enter Sir Andrew Ague-cheek. Fab. More matter for a May morning. 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, I 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. [ter. Vio. With the same 'haviour that your passion A Vio. Sir To. Gentleman, God save thee. Vio. And you, sir. Sir To. That defence thou hast, betake thee to't: Sir And. Here's the challenge, read it; I war- of what nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, rant, there's vinegar and pepper in't. Fab. Is't so sawcy? 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. Sir To. Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind, why I do call thee so, for I will show thee no reason for't. Fab. A good note: that keeps you from the blow of the law. Sir To. Thou comest to the lady Olivia, and in my sight she uses thee kindly: but thou liest in thy throat, that is not the matter I 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. 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 sworn 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 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 ter rible 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 I know not; but thy intercepter, full of despight, bloody as the hunter, attends thee at the orchard end: dismount thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation, for thy assailant is quick, skilful, and deadly. 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 [Exit Sir Toby. by this gentleman till my return. Vio. Fray you, sir, do you know of this matter? Fab. I know, the knight is incensed against you, |