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Sir And. 'Slight, I could so beat the rogue -—
Mai. There is example for't; the lady of the strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe.
Sir And. Fie on him, Jezebel!
Fab. O, peace! now he's deeply in; look, how imagination blows him.
Mai. Having been three months married to her, sitting in my state,—
Sir To. O, for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye!
Mai. Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet gown ; having come from a day-bed, where I left Olivia sleeping.
Sir To. Fire and brimstone!
Fab. O, peace, peace.
Mai. A nd 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. Holts and shackles!
Fab. O, peace, peace, peace! now, now.
Mat. 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'siesthere to me
Sir To. Shall this fellow live?
Fab. Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace.
Mat. 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?
Mai. Saying, Cousin Tolnj, my fortui east me on your niece, give me thii prerogative o/j speech :—
Sir To. What, what?
Mai. You mutt amend your drunkennett.
Sir To. Out,scab!
Fab. Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of oar plot.
Mai. Betides, 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.
Mai. By my life, this is my lady's hand : these
Fab. This wins him, liver and all.
Sir To. Marry, hang thee, brock!
Fab. What a dish of poison hath she dressed him! Sir To. And with what wing the stannyel checks at it!
Mai. 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. Thtre is no obstruction in this;—And the end,—What should that alphabetical position portend? if I could make that resemble something in me,— Softly !—Jf, O, A, J—
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 he as rank as a fox.
■Malvolio ;—M,~why, that begins my
Fab. Did not I say, he would work It out? the cur is excellent at faults.
Mat. 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 him, and make him cry, O.
Mai. 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.
Mai. M, 0, A, I :—Thi3 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 thit fall into thy hand, revolve. In my start I am above thee ; but be not afraid of greatnett: Some are born great, tome achiei>e greatnett, and some have greatness thrust upon them. Thy fates open their hands; let thy blood and spirit embrace them. And, to inure thytelf to what thou art like to he, cast thy humble tlough, and appear fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants: let thy tongue tang atmeats of state ; put thytelf into the trick of singu•ity: She thus advises thee, that tight for thee. Rember who commended thy yellow stockings ; and wished to tee thee ever crott-gartered: I tay, remember. Go to ; thou art made, if thou desirest to be so; if not, let me see thee a steward still, the fellow ofttrvantt, and not worthy to touch fortune's fingers. Farewell. She that mould alter s rvicet with thee,
The fortunate unhappy. Day-light and champian discovers not more: this is open. I will be proud. Twill read politick authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash cflF 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 cantt not choose hut know tvho 1 am. If thou entertainest my love, let it appear in thy smiling ; thy tmilet become thee well : therefore in my pretence still smile, dear my tweet, 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 fbr 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.
Sir To. Wilt tliou set thy foot o' ray neck?
air And. Or o' mine either?
Sir To. Sha!l I play my freedom at tray-trip, and become thy bond-slave?
Sir And. I'faith, or I either?
Sir To. Why, thou hast puthim in such adream, (hit, when the image of it leaves him, he must run mad.
Mar. Nay, but say true; does it work upon him?
Sir To. Uke aqua-vitas with a midwife.
Mur, If you will then see the fruits of the sport, nark his first approach before my lady : he will tome to her in yellow stockings, and'tis a colour *he abhors; and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests; and he will smile upon her, which will now 1* 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. 1'il make one too. [Exeunt.
Vio. Save thee, friend, and thy musick: 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 lies by .1 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 name, sir.
Vio. Why, man?
Clo. Why, sh, her name's a word; and to dally with that word, might make my sister wanton: But, indeed, words are very rascals, since bonds ajseraced them.
*"io. Thy reason, man?
Cto. Troth, sir, I can yield you none with' »ords; and words are grown so false, I am loath t* proTe reason with them.
Vio. I warrant, thou art a merry fellow, and ttnst 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: the 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. 1 saw thee late at the count Orsino's.
Clo. Foolery, sir, docs walk about the orb, like the sun; it shines every where. I would be sorry, «r, but the fool should be as oft with your master, >* with my mistress: I think, I saw your wisdom there.
Vu>. 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, lend thee a beard!
Vio. By my troth, I'll tell thee; I am almost sick foT 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.
Cln. I would play lord t'andarus of Fhrygia, sir, • to bring a Crcssida to this Troilus.
Vio. 1 understand you, sir; 'tis well begg'd.
Clo. The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, begging but a beggar: (ressida was a beggar. My lady is within, sir. I will construe to them whence you come; who you are, and what you would, aie 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 To. Save you, gentleman.
Vio. And you, sir.
Sir And. Diru vous garde, monsieur.
Vio. Et vous aussi : voire servileur.
Sir And. I hope, sir, you are: and I am yours.
Sir To. Will you encounter the house? my niece is desirous you should entei, 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.
.S'ir To. I mean to go, sir, to enter. Fin. 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 Anil. That youth's a rare courtier! Rain odours! well.
Via. My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your own most pregnant and vouchsafed car.
Sir And. Odours, pregnant, and vouchsafed ■I'll get 'em all three ready.
<>li. Let the garden door be shut, and leave mc to my hearing.
[Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Maria. Give me your hand, sir.
Vio. My duty, madam, and most humble service.
Off. What is your name f
Vii'. Cesario U your servant's name, fair princess.
Oli. My servant, sir! "Twas never merry world, Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment: You are servant to the count Orsino, youth.
Vio. And he is> yours, and his must needs lie yours;
Your servant's servant is your servant, madam. oli. For him, 1 think not on him: for his thoughts,
Would they were blanks, rather than fill'd with me!
Vio. Madam, I corae to whet vour gentle thoughts On his behalf:—
Oli. O, by your leave, I pray you;
I bade you never speak again of him:
1 Vio. Bear lady,
Oii. Give me leave, I beseech you: I did send
Have you not set mine honour at the stake.
That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your reoel ving
Enough is shown; a Cyprus, not a bosom.
Vio. I pity you.
Oli. That's a degree to love.
Via. No, not a grise; for 'tis a vulgar proof, That very oft we pity enemies.
Oli. Why, then, methinks, 'tis time to smile again:
0 world, how apt the poor are to be proud '■
To fall before the lion, than the wolf? [Clock strikes.
Vio. Then westward-hoe:
(Irace, and good disposition 'tend your ladyship! You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?
1 pr'ythee, tell me, what thou think'st of me.
Vio, That you do think, you are not what you are. i
Oli. If! think so, I think the same of you.
Vio. Then think you right; I am notwhat I am.
Oli, I would, you were as I would have you be ■
Vi<>. Would it be better, madam, than I am, 1 wish it might; for now 1 am your fool.
Oli. O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his Up! A murd'rous guilt shows not itself more soon Than love that would seem hid: love's night is Cesario, by the roses of the spring, [noon. By maidhoud, honour, truth, and every thing, I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride, Nor wit, nor reason, can my passion hide. Ho not extort thy reasons from this clause, for, that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause; But, rather, reason thus with reason fetter: I.ore sought is good, hut 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. [move
Oli. Yet come again : for thou, perhaps, may*8t That heart, which now abhors, to like his love.
SCENE II— A Room in Olivia's House. Fn!er Sir Toby Belch, Sir Andrew Ague-check,
and Fabian. Sir And. No, faith, J '11 not stay K jot longer. Sir To. Thy reason, dear venom, give thy reason. Fnb, You must needs yield your reason, sir Andrew.
Sir And. Marry, I saw your niece do more favours lo the count's serving man, than ever she bestowed upon ine; I saw't I'ihe orchard.
Sir To. Did she see thee the while, old boy ? tell me that.
Sir Ami. As plain as 1 see you now,
Fah. This was a great argument of love in her toward you.
Sir And. 'Slight! will yon make an ass o' me?
Fall. 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.
Fah, 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 lier; and with some excellent jests, 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 gilt of this opportunity you let time wash off, and you arc 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.
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 report of valour.
Fnb. 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 matter: About it:
.Sir And. Where shall I find you?
Sir To. We'll call thee at the mbiculo: Go.
[Exit Sir Andrew.
Fnb. This is a dear manakin to you, sir Toby.
Sir To. I have been dear to him, lad; some two thousand strong, or so.
Fall. 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 a* 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.
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 MaJvolio 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 hive dogged him, like his murderer: He does obey every point of the letter that 1 dropped to betray him. He doessmile his face into more lines than are in the new map, with the augmentation of the Indies: you have not reen 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.
SCENE III Street.
Enter Antonio and Sebastian.
Seh. I would not by my will have troubled you; But, since you make your pleasure of your pains, 1 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 miiiht 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 I 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,
Seh. I am not weary, and 'tis long to night;
An'. 'Would you'd pardon me;
I do not without danger walk theae streets:
Sdi. 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 from them ; which, for traifick's sake, Most of our city did: only myself stood out: for which, if I be lapsed in this place, f shall pay dear.
S?b. Do not then walk too open.
Ant. It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here's my In the south suburbs, at the Klephant, [purse; Is best to lodge: I will bespeak our diet, [ledge, Whiles you beguile the time, and feed your known ith viewing of the town ; there shall you have me.
Sri. Why 1 your purse?
An/. Haply, your eye shall light upon some toy Vou have desire to purchase; and your stove, I think, is not for idle markets, sir.
Sri, I'll be your purse-bearer, and leave you for An hour.
Ant, To the Elephant—
8rt, I do remember. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV.—Olivia's Garden.
OH. I have sent after him. He says he'll come;
I 'peak too loud. [row'd.
Where is Malvolio ?.—he is sad, and civil,
Mar. Tie's coming, madam;
But in strange manner. He is sure possess'd.
OJ'- Why, what's the matter? does he rave?
M<ii\ No, madam,
fie does nothing but smile: your Hdyship Werehe^t h;ive guard about you. if he come; For, sure, the man is tainted in his wits.
OIL Go call him hither I'm as mad as he,
If sad and merry madness equal he.—
Ih* now, Malvolio?
tat. Sweet ladv, ho,ho. \Smiles fantastically.
OIL Rmtl'st thou?
-Uf.*/. Sad, lady? I could he sad: This does make '_nrne obstruction in the Mood, this cross-bartering; Hilt what of that, if it please the eye of one, it is lrith me aj the very true sonnet is: 'Please one, and ?Uau alt.
Oli. Why, how dost thou mm? what is the matter u-ith thee?
Sat. Not black in my mind, though yellow in leg's: It did come to hii hands, and commands ihalt he executed. I think, we do know the sweet nam an hand.
OH. Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio'
Xal. To bed? ay, sweet-heart: and I'll come to ibee.
Oil. God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so, and kiss thy hand so oft 3
I Mar, How do you, Malvolio?
Mai. At your request? Ves; Nightingales answer daws.
Mar, \\ hy appear you with this ridiculous bold. nes3 before my lady?
Mai. Be not afraid of greatness .—'twas well writ
Mai. Home achieve greatness,—
Mai. And some have greatness thrust upon than.
Mai. Hemernlier, who commended thy yellow stork
Oli. Thy yellow stockings?
Mat. And wished to sse thee cross-gartered.
Mai. Go to: thou art made, if thou desircst to tt so;—
Oli. Am I made?
Mai. If not, 1st me see th-e a servant still.
Str. Madam, the young gentleman of the count Orsino's is returned; I could hardly entreat him back: he attends your ladyship's pleasure.
01/. I'll come to him. [Exit Servant ] Good Maria, let this fellow be looked to. Where's my cousin Toby? i.et some of my people have a special care of him; I would not have him miscarry for the half of my dowry.
[Exeunt Olivin and Maria.
Mai, 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 bhe incites me to that in the letter. Cast thy humhle slough, says she be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants,—let thy tongue tang with Lnements of s/ate,—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 .love's doing, and Jove make me thankful 1 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 oi 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 tt be thanked.
Re-enter Maria, with Sir Toby Belch and Fabian. Sir To. Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all the devils in hell be drawn in little, anil Legion himself possessed him, yet I'll speak to him.
Fab. Here he is, here he is :—How is't with you, sir? how is't with you, man?
Mat. (io off; 1 discard you; let me enjoy my private; go off".
Mar. T.o, how hollow the liend speaks within him! did not I tell you ?—Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a care of hitn.
Mai. Ah, ha 1 does she so?
SirTo. (!oto,goto; peace, peace, we must deal gently with him; let me alone. How do you, Malvolio? how is't with you? What, man 1 defy the devil: consider, he's an enemy to mankind.
Mai. Do you know what you say?
Mar. La'you, an you speak, ill of the devil, how he takes it at heart! Tray i'-wi, he be not bewitched!
Fah. Carry his water to the wise woman.
Mar. Marry, acid it shall be done to-morrow morning, if I live. My lady would not lose him for more than I'll say.
vtnt Hnwnn» mistress s I between his lord and my niece confirms no less;
M O tor?" I tbeiefore this letter, being so excellent], ignorant,
Sir To. PrSt'hee, hold thy peace; this is not the will breed no tenor in the youth, he will find it way - Do yon"not see, 7on move him? let me alone comes from a clodpole. But, sir, I will deliver his with him challenge by word of mouth; set uponAgue-cheek a
Fab. No way but gentlenes 1; gently, gently: the notable report of valour; and driie the gentleman fiend is rough, and will not be roughly used. (as, I know his youth will aptly receive it,) into a'
Sir To. Why, how now, my bawcock ? how dost most hideous opinion of his rage, skill, fury, and imthou, chuck? petuosity. This will so fright them both, that they
UaL Slr? will kill one another by the look, like cockatrices.
Sir To. Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, man! r . „,. . ,
'tis not for gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan: Kmer uima and \ iola.
Jiang him, foul collier! I Fab. Here he comes with your niece: give them
Mar. (Jet him to say his prayers; good sir Toby, w*jj **U he take leave, and presently after him. get him to pray. I Air To. I will meditate the while upon some bor
Mal. My prayers, minx?
Star. No, I warrant you, he will not hear of god
Mat. Go, hang yourselves all! you are idle shallow things: I am not of your element; you shall know more hereafter. lExit.
Sir To. Is't possible?
/'"'■. If this were played upon a stage now, ] 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 belief that lie 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 6ee.
Enter Sir Andrew Ague-cheek.
Fab. More matter for a May morning.
Sir And. Ay, is it, I warrant him: do but read.
.Sir To. Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind, why I do call thee so, for 1 tvitl shorn thee no reason for't.
Fab. A good note: that keeps you from the blow of the law.
Sir To. Thou earnest to the lady Olivia, and in my sight she uses thee kindly: but thou liest in thy throat, that is not the matter J challenge thee for.
Fab. Very brief, and exceeding good sense-less.
Sir To. 1 mill way-lay thee going home; where if\ it be thy ettanee to kill me,
Sir To. Thou kiltest 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 upo 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 r Andrew Ague-chcek.
Sir To. If this letter move him not, his legs can not: I'll give't him.
Jfar. 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*i so soon as ever thou seest him, draw ; and, as thou drawest swear horrible; for it comes to pass oil, that a ter. rible oath, with a swaggering accent sharply twang ed 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
rid message for a challenge.
Exeunt Sir Toby, Fabian, and Maria.
Vio. With the same 'haviour that your passion
Vio. I will acquit you.
Oli. Well, come again to-morrow s Fare thee well; A fiend, like thee, might bear my soul to hell. [Exit. Re-enter Sir Toby Belch and Fabian. To. Gentleman, God save thee. And you, sir. _„ To. That defence thou hast, betake theeto'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, be yare in thy preparation, for thy assailant is quick, skilful, and deadly.
Vio. You mistake, sir; I am sure, no man hatb any quarrel tome*, my remembrance is very fre* and clear from any image of orFence done to any man.
Sir To. You'll rind it otherwise, I assure you i 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 hisincensementatthis 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 mj negligence, nothing of my purpose.
Sir To. 1 will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by this gentleman till my return. [Exit Sir Toby.
Vio. 1 ray vou, sir, do you know of this matter t
Fab. I know, the,knight ia incensed against you,