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letter:] for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling.
Enter Malvol10. Mal. 'Tis but fortune; all is fortune. Maria once told me, she did affect me: and I have heard herself come thus near, that, should she fancy,2 it should be one of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a more exalted respect, than any one else that follows her. What should I think on't?
Sir To. Here's an over-weening rogue !
Fab. O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him; how he jets 3 under his advanced plumes !
Sir And, 'Slight, I could so beat the rogue : .
Mal. 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 4 him.
Mal. Having been three months married to her, sitting in my state, s.
Sir To. O, for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye! Mal. Calling my officers about me, in my branched
4 Puffs him up.
velvet gown; having come from a day-bed, 6 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 !
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?
Fab. Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot.
Mal. Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish knight;
Sir And. That's me, I warrant you.
[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 ?
No man must know.
Sir To. Marry, hang thee, brock!7
But silence, like a Lucrece knife,
M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.
Fab. A fustian riddle !
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 has she dressed him!
Sir To. And with what wing the stannyel 8 checks 9. 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, 0, 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.
Mal. M, Malvolio ;-M,—why, that begins my name,
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 0 shall end, I hope.
Sir To. Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make him cry, 0.
Mal. And then I comes behind;
might see more detraction at your heels, than fortunes before you.
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, rerolre. 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,2 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 adrises thee, that sighs for thee. Remember who commended thy yellow stockings; and wished to see the ever cross-gartered: I say, remember. Go 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 off gross acquaintance, I will be point-de-vice,4 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
2 Skin of a Snake. 3 Open country.
4 Utmost exactness.