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Or any taint of vice, whose strong corruption
Inhabits our frail blood.

Ant. O heav'ns themselves !
2 Off. Come, sir, I pray you, go.

Ant. Let me but speak
A little. Why, this youth that you see here,
I snatch'd one half out of the jaws of death,
Reliev'd him with such fanctity of love;
And to his image, which, methought, did promise
Most venerable worth, did I devotion.
1 Off

. What's that to us ? the time goes by; away.
Ant. But, o, how vile an idol proves this god !
Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame.
In nature there's no blemish but the mind :
None can be call'd deform'd but the unkind.
Virtue is beauty, but the beauteous evil
Are empty trunks o’erflourish'd by the devil.

i Off. Surely, the man grows mad; away with him:
Come, come, fir.
Ant. Lead me on.

[Exit with Off Vio. Methinks, his words do from such passion fly, That he believes himself; so do not I: Prove true, imagination, o, prove true, That I, dear brother, be now ta’en for you!

Sir To.. Come hither, knight, come hither, Fabian; we'll whisper o’er a couplet or two of most fage faws.

Vio. He nam'd Sebastian : I my brother know
Yet living in my glass; even such and so
In favour was my brother; and he went
Still in this fashion, colour, ornament;
For him I imitate : o, if it prove,
Tempests are kind, and salt waves fresh in love.

[Exit. Sir To. A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward than a hare: his dishonesty appears in leaving his friend here in necessity, and denying him; and for his cowardship, ask Fabian. Fab. A coward, devout coward, religious in it.

Sir And. Od’s lid, I'll after him again, and beat him.
Sir To. Do, cuff him foundly, but ne'er draw thy sword.
Sir And. If I do not
Fab. Come, let us see the event.
Sir To. I dare lay money, 'twill be nothing yet.


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Enter Sebastian, and Clown.

ILL you make me believe, that I am not sent for you?

Séb. Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow :
Let me be clear of thee.

Clo. Well held out, i' faith! No, I do not know you; nor I am not sent to you by my lady, to bid you come to speak with her; nor your name is not master Cesario; nor this is not my nose neither; nothing, that is so, is so.

Seb. I pr’ythee, vent thy folly somewhere else; thou know'st

not me.

Clo. Vent my folly! He has heard that word of some great man, and now applies it to a fool. Vent my folly! I am afraid, this great lubber the world will prove a cockney. I pr’ythee now, ungird thy strangeness, and tell me what I shall vent to my lady; shall I vent to her, that thou art coming ?

Seb. I pr’ythee, foolish geck, depart from me; there's money for thee. If you tarry longer, I shall give worse payment.

Clo. By my troth, thou hast an open hand: these wise give fools money, get themselves a good report: after fourteen years purchase.

men, that

* This seems to carry a piece of satyr upon monopolies, the crying grievance of the time. The grants generally were for fourteen years : and the petitions being referr'd to a committee, it was suspected that money gain'd favourable reports from thence. Vol. II.



Enter for Andrew, fir Toby, and Fabian.
Sir And. Now, sir, have I met you again? there's for you.

[striking Sebastian. Seb. Why, there's for thee, and there, and there are all the people mad

[beating for Andrew. Sir To. Hold, sir, or I throw your dagger o'er the house.

Clo. This will I tell my lady straight: I would not be in some of your coats for two pence,

[Exit Clown. Sir To. Come on, sir, hold.

[holding Sebastian. Sir And. Nay, let him alone, I'll go another way to work with him ; I'll have an action of battery against him, if there be any law in Illyria : though I ftruck him first, yet it's no matter for that.

Seb. let go thy hand.

Sir To. Come, fir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier, put up your iron; you are well flesh’d: come on.

Seb. I will be free from thee. What wouldft thou now? if thou dar’st tempt me further, draw thy sword.

Sir To. What, what? nay, then I must have an ounce or two of this malapert blood from you. (they draw and fight.


Enter Olivia.
Oli. Hold, Toby; on thy life, I charge thee, hold.
Sir To. Madam?

Oli. Will it be ever thus? ungracious wretch,
Fit for the mountains, and the barbarous caves,
Where manners ne'er were preach'd: out of my fight!
Be not offended, dear Cesario.
Rudefby, be gone! I pr'ythee, gentle friend,

[Exeunt fir Toby and for Andrew.
Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway
In this uncivil and unjust extent
Against thy peace. Go with me to my house,


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And hear thou there, how many fruitless pranks
This ruffian hath botch'd up, that thou thereby
May'st smile at this: thou shalt not choose but go;
Do not deny: beshrew his soul for me!
He started one poor heart of mine in thee.

Seb. What relish is in this ? how runs the stream?
Or I am mad, or else this is a dream.
Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;
If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep.

. Nay, come, I pray: would thou’dst be ruld by me! Seb. Madam, I will. Oli. O, say so, and so be!




Olivia's house.

Enter Maria, and Clown. Mar. (AY, I pr’ythee, put on this gown and this beard;

make him believe, thou art fir Topas the curate; do it quickly. I'll call sir Toby the whilft.

[Exit Maria. Clo. Well, I'll put it on, and I will diffemble myself in’t; and I would I were the first that ever dissembled in such a gown! I am not tall enough to become the function well, nor lean enough to be thought a good student; but to be said, an honest man, and a good housekeeper, goes as fairly as to say, a graceful man, and a great scholar, The competitors enter,

Enter fir Toby, and Maria. Sir To. Jove bless thee, master parfon.

Clo. Bonos dies, fir Toby; for as the old hermit of Prague, that never saw pen and ink, very wittily said to a niece of king Gorboduck, that, that is, is: so I, being mafter parson, am master parson ; for what is that, but that? and is, but is ? Şir To, To him, fir Topas.

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Clo. What, hoa; I say, peace in this prison !

[in a counterfeit voice. Sir To. The knave counterfeits well; a good knave.

(Malvolio within. Mal. Who calls there?

Clo. Sir Topas the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio the lunatick.

[This and all that follows from the clown, in a counterfeit voice. Mal. Sir Topas, fir Topas, good fir Topas, go to my lady.

Clo. Out, hyperbolical fiend I bow vexest thou this man? Talkest thou nothing but of ladies ?

Sir To. Well said, master parson.

Mal. Sir Topas, never was man thus wrong’d; good sir Topas, do not think I am mad; they have lay'd me here in hideous darkness.

Clo. Fie, thou dishonest Sathan! I call thee by the most modeft terms; for I am one of those gentle ones that will use the devil himself with courtesy: say’st thou that house is dark ?

Mal. As hell, fir Topas.

Clo. Why, it bath bay-windows transparent as barricadoes, and the clear stones towards the south-north are as lustrous as ebony ; and yet complainest thou of obstruction ?

Mal. I am not mad, fir Topas; I say to you, this house is dark.

Clo. Madman, thou errest; I say, there is no darkness but ignorance, in which thou art more puzzled than the Egyptians in their fog.

Mal. I say, this house is as dark as ignorance, though ignorance were as dark as hell; and I say, there was never man thus abus’d: I am no more mad than you are; make the trial of it in any constant question.

Clo. What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild-fowl ?

Mal. That the soul of our grandam might happily inhabit a bird.

Clo. What think'st thou of his opinion ?

Mal. I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his opinion.


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