SIR TO. O, ay! make up that:-he is now at a cold scent.

FAB. Sowter will cry upon't, for all this, though it be as rank as a fox.

MAL. M,-Malvolio;-M,-why, that begins my name.

FAB. Did not I say, he would work it out? the cur is excellent at faults.

MAL. M,-but then there is no consonancy in the sequel; that suffers under probation: A should follow, but O does.

FAB. And O shall 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 see more detraction at your heels than fortunes before you.

MAL. M, O, A, I;-This simulation is not as the former :-and yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of these letters are in my name. Soft! here follows prose.-[Reads.] If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I am above thee; but be not afraid of greatness: some are born* great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em. Thy Fates open their hands; let thy blood and spirit embrace them. And, to inure thyself to what thou art like to be, cast thy humble slough and appear fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants: let thy tongue tang arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of singularity: she thus advises thee that sighs for thee. Remember who commended thy yellow stockings, and wished to see thee ever cross-gartered; I say, remember. to; thou art made, if thou desirest to be so; if not, let me see thee a steward still, the fellow of servants, and not worthy to touch Fortune's fingers. Farewell. She that would alter services with thee,

THE FORTUNATE UNHAPPY.

Go

Day-light and champian discovers not more: this is open. I will be proud, I will read politic authors, I will baffle sir Toby, I will wash off gross acquaintance, I will be point-de-vice, the very man. I do not now fool myself, to let imagination jade me for every reason excites to this, that my lady loves me. She did commend my yellow stockings of late, she did praise my leg

(*) Old text, become.

Tray-trip,-] A game similar to, if not the same as, our back.

gammon.

being cross-gartered; and in this she manifests herself to my love, and, with a kind of injunction, drives me to these habits of her liking. I thank my stars, I am happy. I will be strange, stout, in yellow stockings, and cross-gartered, even with the swiftness of putting on. Jove, and my stars be praised!-Here is yet a postscript. [Reads.] Thou canst not choose but know who I am. If thou entertainest my love, let it appear in thy smiling; thy smiles become thee well: therefore in my presence still smile, dear my sweet, I pr'ythee. Jove, I thank thee.-I will smile: I will do every thing that thou wilt have me. [Exit.

FAB. I will not give my part of this sport for a pension 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 such another jest.

SIR AND. Nor I neither.

FAB. Here comes my noble gull-catcher.

Re-enter MARIA.

SIR TO. Wilt thou set 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-slave?

SIR AND. I'faith, or I either?

SIR TO. Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that, when the image of it leaves him, he must run mad.

MAR. Nay, but say true; does it work upon him?

SIR TO. Like aqua-vitæ with a midwife.

MAR. If you will, then, see the fruits of the sport, mark his first approach before my lady: he will come to her in yellow stockings, and 'tis a colour she abhors, and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests; and he will smile upon her, which will now be so unsuitable to her disposition, being addicted to a melancholy as she is, that it cannot but turn him into a notable contempt: if you will see it, follow me.

SIR TO. To the gates of Tartar," thou most excellent devil of wit!

SIR AND. I'll make one too.

[Exeunt.

b Tartar.-] Tartarus. So in "Henry V." Act II. Sc. 2:"He might return to vasty Tartar back."

thou live by thy tabor.?

CLO. No, sir, I live by the church. Vro. Art thou a churchman? CLO. No such matter, sir; I do live by the church, for I do live at my house, and house my doth stand by the church.

V10. So thou may'st say, the king lies by a beggar, if a beggar dwell near him; or the church stands by thy tabor, if thy tabor stand by the church.

CLO. You have said, sir.-To see this age!A sentence is but a cheveril glove to a good wit; how quickly the wrong side may be turned outward!

Vio. Nay, that's certain; they, that dally nicely with words, may quickly make them [name, sir.

wanton.

CLO. I would, therefore, my sister had had no VIO. Why, man?

CLO. Why, sir, her name's a word; and to

a Cheveril glove-] See note (e), p. 180, Vol. I.

dally with that word, might make my sister wanton: but, indeed, words are very rascals, since bonds disgraced them.

VIO. Thy reason, man?

CLO. Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words; and words are grown so false, I am loth to prove reason with them.

Vio. I warrant thou art a merry fellow, and carest for nothing.

CLO. Not so, sir, I do care for something: but in my conscience, sir, I do not care for you; if that be to care for nothing, sir, I would it would make you invisible.

Vio. Art not thou the lady Olivia's fool?

CLO. No, indeed, sir; the lady Olivia has no folly: she will keep no fool, sir, till she be married; and fools are as like husbands as pilchards are to herrings,-the husband's the bigger; I am, indeed, not her fool, but her corrupter of words.

VIO. I saw thee late at the count Orsino's. CLO. Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb, like the sun; it shines everywhere. I would 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 over-worn. [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 shows, is fit;
But wise men,* folly-fallen. quite taint their wit.

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.

Vro. 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 princess.

servant's name, fair [world, OLI. My servant, sir! 'Twas never merry Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment: You're servant to the count Orsino, youth.

Vro. And he is yours, and his must needs be

OLI. Give me leave, beseech you: I did send,
After the last enchantment you did here,
A ring in chase of you; so did I abuse
Myself, my servant, and, I fear me, you:
Under your hard construction must I sit,
To force that on you, in a shameful cunning,
Which you knew none of yours: what might you
think?

Have you not set mine honour at the stake,
And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts
That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your

receiving

Enough is shown; a cyprus, not a bosom, Hides my heart. So, let me hear you speak.

*) Old text, already.

But Sir Toby uses it as he does encounter the house, and as the Clown adopts welkin and element, to ridicule the fantastic jargon of the Euphuists.

b Cyprus,-] Cyprus, or cipress, was a thin, transparent stuff, similar to that now called crape.

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.

[again. OLI. Why, then, methinks, 't is time to smile 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.

OLI. Stay:

I pr'ythee, 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. [Aside.] O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful

In the contempt and anger of his lip!

A murd'rous guilt shows 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.
Vro. 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, may'st 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 TO. Thy reason, dear venom, give thy reason.

a A grise;] A step. Thus in "Othello," Act I. Sc. 3:"Which, as a grise, or step, may help these lovers." VOL. II. 257

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 'ti' the orchard.

SIR TO. 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 toward 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 To. And they have been grand-jurymen, since before Noah was a sailor.

FAB. She did show 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, firenew from the mint, you should have banged the youth into dumbness. This was looked for at your hand, and this was balked: 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. And 't be any way, it must be with valour; for policy I hate: I had as lief be a Brownist (3) as a politician.

SIR TO. 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 To. 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 licence of ink: if thou thou'st (4) 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.

go.

SIR AND. Where shall I find you?
SIR TO. We'll call thee at the cubiculo: a
[Exit Sir ANDREW.
FAB. This is a dear manakin to you, sir Toby.