393 niggardly rafcally fheep-biter come by fome notable fhame? Fab. I would exult, man; you know, he brought me out of favour with my Lady, about a bear-baiting here. Sir To. To anger him, we'll have the bear again; and we will fool him black and blue, fhall we not, Sir Andrew? Sir And. And we do not, it's pity of our lives. Enter Maria. Sir To. Here comes the little villain: how now, my nettle of India *? Mar. Get ye all three into the box-tree; Malvolio's coming down this walk, he has been yonder i'th' fun practifing behaviour to his own fhadow this half hour. Obferve him, for the love of mockery; for, I know, this letter will make a contemplative idiot of him. Close, in the name of jefting! lye thou there; for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling. [Throws down a letter, and Exit. SCENE VIII. Enter Malvolio. Mal. 'Tis but fortune, all is fortune. Maria once told me, fhe did affect me; and I have heard herself come thus near, that fhould fhe fancy, it fhould be one of my complexion. Befides, fhe ufes me with a more exalted respect, than any one else that follows her. What fhould I think on't? Sir To. Here's an over-weening rogue. Fab. O, peace: contemplation makes a rare Tur Nettle of India means, I believe, nothing more than precious nettle. key key-cock of him; how he jets under his advanc'd plumes! Sir And. 'Slife, I could fo beat the rogue. Mal. To be Count Malvolio, Sir To. Ah, rogue! Sir And. Piftol him, pistol him. Sir To. Peace, peace. 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 him. Mal. Having been three months married to her, fitting in my ftate Sir To. O for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye Mal. Calling my officers about me, in my branch'd velvet-gown; having come down from a day-bed, where I have left Olivia fleeping. Sir To. Fire and brimstone! Fab. O, peace, peace. Mal. And then to have the humour of ftate; and after a demure travel of regard, telling them, I know my place, as I would they fhould do theirs for my uncle Toby Sir To. Bolts and fhackles ! Fab. Oh, peace, peace, peace; now, now. to ask Mal. Seven of my people with an obedient start make out for him: I frown the while, and, perchance, the Lady of the Strachy.] We fhould read Trachy, i. e. Thrace; for fo the old English writers called it. Mandeville lays, As Trachye and Macedoigne of the which Alifandre was Kyng. It was common to ufe the article the before names of places: And this was no improper in wind up my watch, or play with fome rich jewel, Toby approaches, curtfies there to me. Sir To. Shall this fellow live? Fab. Tho' our filence be drawn from us with cares, yet, peace'. Mal. I extend my hand to him thus; quenching my familiar fmile with an auftere regard of controul. Sir To. And does not Toby take you a blow o'th' lips then?. Mal. Saying, uncle Toby, my fortunes having caft me on your Neice, give me this prerogative of fpeech Sir To. What, what? Mal. You must amend your drunkenness. Fab. Nay, patience, or we break the finews of our plot. Mal. Befides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish Knight Sir And. That's me, I warrant you, Mal. One Sir Andrew, Sir And. I knew, 'twas I; for many do call me Fool. Mal. What employment have we here?? [Taking up the letter. Fab. Now is the woodcock near the gin. Sir To. Oh peace! now the fpirit 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 the her great P's. It is in contempt of queftion, her hand. Sir And. Her C's, her U's, and her T's: why that. Mal. To the unknown belov'd, this, and my good wishes; her very phrafes: By your leave, wax. Soft! and the impreffure her Lucrece, with which she uses to feal; 'tis my Lady: to whom should this be? Fab. This wins him, liver and all. Mal. Jove knows I love, but who, Lips do not move, no man must know. No man must know what follows? the number's alter'd-no man must know-if this fhould be thee, Malvolio? Sir To. Marry, hank thee, Brock! Mal. I may command, where I adore, Fab. A fuftian riddle. Sir To. Excellent wench, say I. Mal. M. O. A. I. doth fway my life-nay, but first, let me fee-let me fee Fab. What a difh of poifon has fhe drefs'd him? ✦ What employment have we bere?] A phrafe of that time, equivalent to our common fpeech of-What's to do here. The Oxford Editor, not attending to this, alters it to What implement bave we 1 bere? By which happy emendation, he makes Mallio to be in the plot against himself; or how could he know that this letter was an implement made use of to catch him? WARBURTON. Sir To 3 Sir To. And with what wing the ' ftannyel checks at it? Mal. I may command where I adore. Why, fhe may command me: I ferve her, he is my Lady. Why, this is evident to any formal capacity. There is no obftruction in this and the end what should that alphabetical pofition portend? if I could make that refemble fomething in me? foftly - M. O. A. I. Sir To. O, ay; make up that; he is now at a cold fcent. Fab. Sowter will cry upon't for all this, tho' it be not as rank as a fox'. Mal. M-Malvolio-M.- why, that begins my name. Fab. Did not I fay, he would work it out? the cur is excellent at faults. Mal. M. But then there is no confonancy in the fequel; That fuffers under probation: A fhould follow, but O does. Fab. And O fhall end, I hope". Sir To. Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make him cry, O. Mal. And then I comes behind. Fab. Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you might fee more detraction at your heels than fortunes before you. Mal. M. O. A. I.- this fimulation is not as the former and yet to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of these letters is in my name. Soft, here follows profe-If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my fars I am above thee, but be not afraid 3 Stannyel, the name of a kind of hawk, is very judiciously put here for Stallion, by Sir Thomas Hanmer. ✦ formal capacity.] Formal, for WARBURTON. common. 5 So Sir Thomas Hanmer. The other editions, though it be as rank. 6 And Ofball end I hope.] By O is here meant what we now call a hempen collar. of |