Imatges de pàgina
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SCENE changes to Olivia's Garden.

Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian.

OME thy ways, Signior Fabian.

Sir To. Fab. Nay, I'll come; if I lofe a fcruCOM

ple of this fport, let me be boil'd to death with melancholy.

Sir To. Would't thou not be glad to have the 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. An 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 ideot of him. Clofe, in the name of jefting! lie thou there; for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling. [Throws down a letter, and Exit.

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 refpect, than any one elfe that follows her. What should I think on't?

Sir To. Here's an over-weaning rogue.

Fab.

Fab. Oh, peace: contemplation makes a rare Tur key-cock of him; how he jets under his advanc'd plumes!

Sir And. 'Slife, I could fo beat the rogue.

Sir To. Peace, I fay.

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. Fy 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 flone-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 brimftone!

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 alk

Mal, Seven of my people with an obedient fart make out for him: I frown the while, and, perchance, 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 controll.

Sir To. And does not Toby take you a blow o'th' lips then?

Mal.

Mal. Saying, uncle Toby, my fortunes having caft me on your niece, give me this prerogative of fpeech.

Sir To. What, what?

Mal. You maft amend your drunkennefs.,

Sir To. Out, fcab!

Fab. Nay, patience, or we break the finews of our

plot.

Mal. Befides, you wafte the treasure of

with a foolish Knight

Sir And. That's me, I warrant you.

Mal. One Sir Andrews,

your time

Sir And. I knew it was 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: thefe be her very C's, her U's, and her T's, and thus makes fhe 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 phrases: by your leave, wax. Soft! and the impreffure her Lucrece, with which the ufes 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 muft know

what follows the number's alter'd no man must know-if this fhould be thee, Malvolio?

Sir To. Marry, hang thee, Brock!

Mal. I may command where I adore, but filence, like a
Lucrece knife,

With bloodless ftroke my heart doth gore, M. O. A. I. doth way my life.

Fab. A fuftian riddle.

Sir To. Excellent wench, fay I.

Mal. M. O. A. I. doth fway my life nay, but first let me fee

it

let me fee

Fab. What a difh of poifon has the drefs'd him?

Sir To. And with what wing the ftallion checks at

Mal. I may command where I adore. Why, the may command me: I ferve her, fhe is my Lady. Why, this is evident to any formal capacity. There is no obftruction in this-and the end-what fhould that alphabetical pofition portend? if I could make that refem? ble 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 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 stars I am above thee, but be not afraid of greatness; fome are barn great, fome atchieve greatnefs, and fome have greatness thrust upon them. Thy fates open their hands, let thy blood and Spirit embrace them; and to inure thyfelf to what thou art like to be, caft thy humble flough, and appear fresh. Be oppofite with a kinsman, furly with fervants: let thy tongue tang arguments of fate; put thy felf into the trick of fingularity. She thus advifes

adwifes thee, that fighs for thee. Remember who commended thy yellow flockings, and wifhed to fee thee ever crofs garter'd. I fay, remember; go to, thou art made, if thou defireft to be fo: if not, let me fee thee a steward fill, the fellow of fervants, and not worthy to touch Fortune's fingers. Farewel. She, that would alter fervices with thee. The fortunate and happy day-light and champian discovers no more: this is open. I will be proud, I will read politick authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off grofs acquaintance, I will be point devife, the very man. I do not now fool my felf, to let imagination jade me; for every reafon excites to this, that my Lady loves me. She did commend my yellow ftockings of late, fhe did praise my leg, being cross-garter'd, and in this fhe manifefts her felf to my love, and with a kind of injunction drives me to these habits of her liking. I thank my ftars, I am happy I will be ftrange, ftout, in yellow ftockings, and cross-garter'd, even with the fwiftness of putting on. Jove, and my ftars be prais'd !-Here is yet a poftfcript. Thou can'ft not chufe but know who I am; if thou entertaineft my love, let it appear in thy fmiling; thy fmiles become thee well. Therefore in my presence fill fmile, dear my sweet, I pr'ythee.- -Jove, I thank thee! I will fmile, I will do every thing that thou wilt have me.

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[Exit.

Fab. I will not give my part of this fport for a penfion 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 fuch another jeft.

Enter Maria.

Sir And. Nor I neither.

Fab. Here comes my noble gull-catcher.

Sir To. Wilt thou fet thy foot o' my neck?

Sir And. Or o' mine either?

Sir To. Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and become thy bond-flave?

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