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. 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; 't is well begged. Clo. The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, begging but a beggar; Cressida was a beggar. My lady is within, sir. I will construe to them whence you come who you are, and what you would, are out of my welkin: I might say element, but the word is overworn. [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 shews, is fit;
But wise men, folly-fallen, quite taint their wit.
Enter SIR TOBY BELCH and SIR ANDREW AGUE-

CHEEK.

Sir Toby. 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 Toby. 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 Toby. 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 Toby. 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. Oli. What is your name?

Vio. Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess.

Oli. My servant, sir! 'Twas never merry world Since lowly feigning was called compliment : You are servant to the Count Orsino, youth.

Vio. And he is yours, and his must needs be yours;

Your servant's servant is your servant, madam. Oli. For him, I think not on him for his thoughts,

'Would they were blanks, rather than filled with me.

Vio. Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts

Enough is shewn; 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 't is a vulgar proof, That very oft we pity enemies.

Oli. Why then, methinks, 't is time to smile again: 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. The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.— Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you : And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest, Your wife is like to reap a proper man: There lies your way, due west. Then westward-hoe:

Vio.

Grace and good disposition 'tend your ladyship! You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?

Oli. Stay :

I pr'y thee tell me what thou think'st of me.

Vio. That you do think you are not what you 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 murderous guilt shews not itself more soon Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon. Cesario, by the roses of the spring, By maidhood, honour, truth, and every thing, I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride, Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide. Do not extort thy reasons from this clause, For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause: But rather reason thus with reason fetter: Love sought is good, but 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.

Oli. Yet come again: for thou perhaps mayst move

That heart, which now abhors, to like his love.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-A Room in OLIVIA'S House.

Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK, and FABIAN.

Sir And. No, faith, I'll not stay a jot longer. Sir Toby. Thy reason, dear venom, give thy

reason.

Fab. You must needs yield your reason, Sir Andrew.

Sir And. Marry, I saw your niece do more favours to the count's serving-man than ever she bestowed upon me; I saw 't i' the orchard.

Sir Toby. Did she see thee the while, old boy? tell me that.

Sir And. As plain as I see you now.

Fab. This was a great argument of love in her towards 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 Toby. And they have been grand jurymen since before Noah was a sailor.

Fab. She did shew 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 her; 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 are 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. An't be any way, it must be with valour; for policy I hate: I had as lief be a Brownist as a politician.

Sir Toby. 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.

Fab. There is no way but this, Sir Andrew. Sir And. Will either of you bear me a challenge to him?

Sir Toby. 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 license 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 Toby. We'll call thee at the cubiculo: Go. [Exit SIR ANDrew.

Fab. This is a dear manakin to you, Sir Toby.

Sir Toby. 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 Toby. 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.

Enter MARIA.

Sir Toby. Look where the youngest wren of nine comes.

Mar. If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourselves into stitches, follow me: yon' gull Malvolio 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 Toby. 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 Toby. Come, bring us, bring us where he is. [Exeunt.

SCENE III-A Street.

Enter ANTONIO and SEBASTIAN.

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 filéd 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 befal 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.

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.

Seb. I am not weary, and 't is long to night; I pray you let us satisfy our eyes With the memorials and the things of fame That do renown this city.

Ant.

Would you 'd pardon me;

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

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 answered in repaying
What we took from them; which, for traffic's sake,
Most of our city did: only myself stood out;
For which, if I be lapsed in this place,

I shall pay dear.

Mar. No, madam, he does nothing but smile: your ladyship were best to have some 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 please 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 matter 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, Malvolio?

Mal. To bed? ay, sweetheart; and I'll come to thee.

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

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 humble slough," says she ;-" be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants,-let thy tongue tang with arguments of state,-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 Jove'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 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.

Re-enter MARIA, with SIR TOBY BELCH and FABIAN.

Sir Toby. Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? 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, sir? how is 't with you, man?

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, ah! does she so?

Sir Toby, 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 devil: consider, he 's an enemy to mankind. Mal. Do you know what you say?

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!

[Exit.

Mal. Go, hang yourselves all! you are idle shallow things: I am not of your element; you shall know more hereafter. Sir Toby. Is 't possible? Fab. If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction. Sir Toby. 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 Toby. 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 AGUECHeek.

Fab. More matter for a May morning. Sir And. Here's the challenge, read it; I warrant there's vinegar and pepper in 't.

Fab. Is't so saucy?

Sir And. Ay, is it, I warrant him: do but read. Sir Toby. Give me. [Reads.

"Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art but a scurvy fellow."

Fab. Good, and valiant.

SIR TOBY reads.

"Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind, why I do call thee so, for I will shew thee no reason for 't." Fab. A good note: that keeps you from the blow of the law.

SIR TOBY reads.

"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.