her Lucrece, with which she uses to seal: 'tis Lips, do not move; No man must know." Sir To. Marry, hang thee, brock !* M, O, A, I, doth sway my life." 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 dish o' poison has she dress'd him! Sir To. And with what wing the stanniel + 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, I. 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. [my name. Mal. M,-Malvolio;-M,-why, that begins 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. [cry O. Fab. Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you might see more detraction at your heels than fortunes before you. 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-garter'd; 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-garter'd, 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 entertain'st 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 deSir And. So could I too. [vice. 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. 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. [him? Mar. Nay, but say true; does it work upon Sir To. Like aqua-vitæ. 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-garter'd-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 Third. [Exeunt. SCENE I.-OLIVIA'S Garden. Mal. M, 0, 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 wish'd to see thee ever cross-garter'd: I say, remember. Go to; thou art made, if thou desir'st 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." Daylight and champaign discovers not more: this is open. I will be proud, I will read poIitic authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off gross acquaintance, I will be point-device, Tward! 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 lives 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 out || Skin of a snake. ¶ Utmost exactness. ** A boy's diversion, three and trip. ++ Kid. 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 everywhere. 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. Is thy lady within? Clo. My lady is within, sir. I will construe to her 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 That comes before his eye. This is a practice, As full of labour as a wise man's art : 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-CHEEK. Sir Tb. Save you, gentleman. Vio. And you, sir. Sir And. Dieu vous garde, monsieur. Vio. Et vous aussi; votre serviteur. Sir And. I hope, sir, you are; and I am yours. Sir To. Will you encounter the house? my 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 To., Sir AND., and MAR. Give me your hand, sir. [service. Vio. My duty, madam, and most humble Oli. What is your name? [princess. Vio. Cesario is your servant's name, fair Oli. My servant, sir! "Twas never merry world, Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment: You are servant to the Count Orsino, youth. A hawk not well trained. + Bound, limit. Oli. O, by your leave, I pray you; I bade you never speak again of him: But, would you undertake another suit, I had rather hear you to solicit that, Than music from the spheres. Vio. Have you not set mine honour at the stake, Enough is shown; a cyprus, not a bosom, Oli. That's a degree to love. Vio. No, not a grise; || for 'tis a vulgar proof, That very oft we pity enemies. [again: Oli. Why, then, methinks, 'tis time to smile 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. I pr'ythee, tell me what thou think'st of me. are. Oli. If I think so, I think the same of you. Vio. Then think you right; I am not what I am. Oli. I would, you were as I would have you be! Vio. Would it be better, madam, than I am, I wish it might; for now I am your fool. Oli. O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his lip! A murd'rous guilt shows not itself more soon Than love that would seem hid; love's night is noon. Cesario, by the roses of the spring, + Ready. ? Ready apprehension. il Step. |