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To woo your Lady; yet, O baneful ftrife!
Who-e'er I woo, my felf would be his wife.
SCENE VI. Olivia's House.

Enter Maria and Clown.

[Exeunt.

Mar. Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or Ţ will not open my lips fo wide as a briftle may enter in way of thy excufe; my Lady will hang thee for thy abfence. Clo. Let her hang me; he that is well hang'd in this world needs fear no colours,

Mar. Make that good.

Clo. He fhall fee none to fear.

Mar. A good lenten anfwer: I can tell thee where that faying was born, of I fear no colours.

Clo. Where, good miftrefs Mary?

Mar. In the wars, and that you may be bold to fay in your foolery.

Clo. Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and thofe that are fools let them ufe their talents.

Mar. Yet you will be hang'd for being so long absent, or be turn'd away; is not that as good as a hanging to you Clo. Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage; and for turning away, let fummer bear it out.

Mar. You are refolute then?

Clo. Not fo neither, but I am refolv'd on two points. Mar. That if one break, the other will hold; or, if both break, your gafkins fall.

Clo. Apt, in good faith, very apt: well, go thy way, if Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria.

Mar. Peace, you rogue, no more o'that: here comes my Lady; make your excufe wifely you were beft. [Exit. SCENE VII. Enter Olivia and Malvolio.

Clo. Wit, an't be thy will, put me into good fooling ; thofe wits that think they have thee do very oft prove fools; and I that am fure I lack thee, may pafs for a wife man. For what fays Quinapalus? better a witty fool than a foolish wit. God bless thee, Lady!

Oli. Take the fool away.

Clo. Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the Lady.

Oli. Go to, y'are a dry fool; I'll no more of you; be fides, you grow dishonest.

Clo. Two faults, Madona, that drink and good counsel will amend; for give the dry fool drink, then is the fool not dry. Bid the difhoneft man mend himself; if he mend, he is no longer difhoneft, if he cannot, let the botcher mend him. Any thing that's mended is but patch'd: virtue that tranfgreffes is but patch'd with fin, and fin that amends is but patch'd with virtue. If that this fimple fyllogifm will ferve, fo; if it will not, what remedy? as there is no true counsellor but calamity, fo beauty's a flower: the Lady bad take away the fool, therefore I fay again, take her away.

Oli. Sir, I bad them take away you.

Clo. Mifprifion in the highest degree. Lady, Cucullus non facit monachum; that's as much as to fay, I wear not motley in my brain; good Madona, give me leave to prove you a fool.

Oli. Can you do it?

Clo. Dexterously, good Madona..
Oli. Make your proof.

Clo. I muft catechize you for it, Madona; good my mouse of virtue, answer me.

Oli. Well, Sir, for want of other idleness, I'll bide your proof.

Clo. Good Madona, why mourn'st thou?
Oli. Good fool, for my brother's death.
Clo. I think his foul is in hell, Madona.
Oli. I know his foul is in heav'n, fool.

Clo. The more fool you, Madona, to mourn for your brother's foul being in heav'n: take away the fool, Gentlemen.

Oli. What think you of this fool, Malvolio, doth he not mend?

Mal. Yes, and fhall do, 'till the pangs of death fhake him. Infirmity, that decays the wife, doth ever make better the fool.

Clo. God fend you, Sir, a fpeedy infirmity, for the better increafing your folly! Sir Toby will be fworn that I am

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no fox, but he will not pass his word for two pence that you are no fool.

Oli. How fay you to that, Malvolio?

Mal. I marvel your Ladyfhip takes delight in fuch a barren rafcal; I faw him put down the other day with an ordinary fool that has no more brains than a ftone. Look you now, he's out of his guard already; unless you laugh and minifter occafion to him, he is gagg'd. I proteft I take those wife men that crow fo at these fet kind of fools, no better than the fools Zanies.

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Oli. O, you are fick of felf-love, Malvolio, and taste with a diftemper'd appetite. To be generous, guiltless, and of free difpofition, is to take thofe things for bird-bolts that you deem cannon-bullets: there is no flander in an allow'd fool, though he do nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known discreet man, though he do nothing but reprove.

Clo. Now Mercury indue thee with learning! for thou fpeak'ft well of fools.

Enter Maria.

Mar. Madam, there is at the gate a young gentleman much defires to speak with you.

Oli. From the Duke Orfino is it?

Mar. I know not, Madam, 'tis a fair young man, and well attended.

Oli. Who of my people hold him in delay? Mar. Sir Toby, Madam, your uncle. Oli. Fetch him off I pray you, he speaks nothing but madman: fie on him! Go you, Malvolio; if it be a fuit from the Duke, I am fick, or not at home. What you will to dismiss it. [Exit Malvolio.] Now fee, Sir, how your fooling grows old, and people dislike it.

Clo. Thou haft fpoke for us, Madona, as if thy eldest fon fhould be a fool: whofe fcull Jove cram with brains! for here comes one of thy kin has a moft weak Pia mater. SCENE VIII. Enter Sir Toby. Ol. By mine honour, half drunk.

gate, uncle?

Sir To. A gentleman.

What is he at the

Oli, A gentleman? what gentleman ?

Sir

Sir To. "Tis a gentleman. Here -[Belching.] a plague o'these pickle herring: how now, fot?

Clo. Good Sir Toby.

Oli. Uncle, uncle, how have you come fo early by this lethargy?

Sir To. Letchery! I defie letchery: there's one at the gate.

Oli. Ay marry, what is he?

Sir To. Let him be the devil an he will, I care not: give me faith, fay I. Well, it's all one.

Oli. What's a drunken man like, fool?

[Exit.

Clo. Like a drown'd man, a fool, and a madman: one draught above heat makes him a fool, the fecond mads him, and a third drowns him.

Oli. Go thou and feek the coroner, and let him fit o'my uncle; for he's in the third degree of drink; he's drown'd; go look after him.

Clo. He is but mad yet, Madona, and the fool fhall look to the madman.

Enter Malvolio.

[Exit Clown. Mal. Madam, yond young fellow fwears he will speak with you. I told him you were fick, he takes on him to understand so much, and therefore comes to speak with you. I told him you were afleep, he feems to have a fore-knowledge of that too, and therefore comes to speak with you. What is to be faid to him, Lady? he's fortified against any denial.

Oli. Tell him he fhall not speak with me.

Mal, He has been told fo; and he fays he'll ftand at your door like a fheriff's poft, * or be the supporter to a bench, but he'll fpeak with you.

Oli. What kind o'man is he?
Mal. Why, of mankind.

Oli. What manner of man?

*Heretofore All Proclamations by the King, All appointments of the rates of wages by the Justices of peace, and other things of the like nature were tent to the Sheriff of each County, who was obliged to promulgate them not only by caufing them to be read in every market town, but by affixing them to tome convenient place with it for which purpofe great pofts or pillars were erected in each fuch town, and their were call'd Sheriff's pofis.

Mal.

Mal. Of very ill manners; he'll speak with you, will

you or no.

Oli. Of what perfonage and years is he?

Mal. Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough for a boy; as a fquafh is before 'tis a peafcod, or a codling when 'tis almost an apple: 'tis with him in ftanding water, between boy and man. He is very well-favour'd, and he fpeaks very threwithly; one would think his mother's milk were scarce out of him.

Oli. Let him approach: call in my gentlewoman.
Mal. Gentlewoman, my lady calls.

[Exit.

SCENE IX. Enter Maria. Oli. Give me my veil: come, throw it o'er my face; We'll once more hear Orfino's embaffy.

Enter Viola.

Vio. The honourable Lady of the house, which is fhe? Oli. Speak to me, I fhall anfwer for her: your will? Vio. Moft radiant, exquifite, and unmatchable beauty pray you, tell me if this be the Lady of the house, for I never faw her. I would be loth to caft away my speech; for befides that it is excellently well penn'd, I have taken great pains to con it. Good beauties, let me fustain no fcorn; I am very prompt, even to the leaft finifter ufage. Oli. Whence came you, Sir?

Vio. I can fay little more than I have studied, and that queftion's out of my part. Good gentle one, give me mo deft affurance, if you be the Lady of the house, that I may proceed in my fpeech.

Oli. Are you a comedian?

Vio, No, my profound heart; and yet, by the very fangs of malice, I fwear, I am not that I play. Are you the Lady of the house?

Oli.. If I do not ufurp my self,

am.

Vio. Most certain, if you are fhe, you do ufurp your felf; for what is yours to beftow, is not yours to reserve; but this is from my commiffion. I will on with my speech in your praife, and then fhew you the heart of my mesfage.

Oli. Come to what is important in't: I forgive you the praife. VOL. III,

X

Vio.

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