bound. My niece is already in the belief that he is mad; we may carry it thus, for our pleasure, and his penance, till our very pastime, tired out of breath, prompt us to have mercy on him: at which time, we will bring the device to the bar, and crown thee for a finder of madmen. But see, but see.

Enter Sir ANDREW, AGUE-CHEEK.

Fab. More matter for a May morning.

Sir And. Here's the challenge, read it; I warrant there's vinegar and pepper in't.

Fab. Is't so sawcy?

Sir And. Ay, is it, I warrant him: do but read. Sir To. Give me. [Reads.] Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art but a scurvy fellow

Fab. Good, and valiant.

Fab. Good.

Sir To. The killest me like a rogue and a villain. Fab. Still you keep o' the windy side of the law: good. Sir To. Fare thee well; and God have mercy upon one of our souls! He may have mercy upon mine; but my hope is better, and so look to thyself. Thy friend, as thou usest him, and thy sworn enemy. Andrew Ague-cheek. Sir To. If this letter move him not, his legs cannot: I'll give't him.

Mar. You may have very fit occasion for't; he is now in some commerce with my lady, and will by and by depart.

Sir To. Go, Sir Andrew; scout me for him at the corner of the orchard, like a bum-bailiff: so soon as ever thou seest him, draw; and, as thou draw'st, swear horrible: for it comes to pass oft, that a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent sharply twang'd off, gives manhood more approbation than ever proof itself would have earn'd him. Away.

Sir And. Nay, let me alone for swearing. [Exit. Sir To. Now will not I deliver his letter; for the behaviour of the young gentleman gives him out to be of good capacity and breeding; his employment between his lord and my niece confirms no less; therefore this letter, being so excellently ignorant, will breed no terror in the youth, he will find it comes from a clod-pole. But, Sir, I will deliver his challenge by word of mouth; set upon Ague-cheek a notable report of valour; and drive the gentleman (as I know, his youth will aptly receive it,) into a most hideous opinion of his rage, skill, fury, and impetuosity. This will so fright them both, that they will kill one another by the look, like cockatrices.

Enter OLIVIA and Viola.

Fab. Here he comes with your niece: give them way, till he take leave, and presently after him. Sir To. I will meditate the while upon some horrid message for a challenge.

[Exeunt Sir Toby, Fabian, and Maria. Oli. I have said too much unto a heart of stone, And laid mine honour too unchary⚫ out: There's something in me, that reproves my fault; But such a headstrong potent fault it is, That it but mocks reproof.

[bears,

Vio. With the same 'haviour that your passion

Go on my master's griefs.

Oli. Here, wear this jewel for me, 'tis my picture; Refuse it not, it hath no tongue to vex you: And, I beseech you, come again to-morrow. What shall you ask of me, that I'll deny ; That honour, saved may upon asking give? Vio. Nothing but this, your true love for my master. Oti. How with mine honour may I give him that Which I have given to you?

Vio. I will acquit you.

Oli. Well, come again to-morrow: fare thee well; A fiend, like thee, might bear my soul to hell. [Erit.

Re-enter Sir TOBY BELCH and FABIAN.
Sir To. Gentleman, God save thee.
Vio. And you, Sir.

Sir To. That defence thou hast, betake thee to't: of what nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know not; but thy intercepter, full of despight, bloody as the hunter, attends thee at the orchard end: dismount thy tuck, be yaret in thy preparation, for thy assailant is quick, skilful, and deadly. Vio. You mistake, Sir; I am sure, no man hath any quarrel to me: my remembrance is very free and clear from any image of offence done to any inan. Sir To. You'll find it otherwise, I assure you; therefore, if you hold your life at any price, betake you to your guard; for your opposite hath in him what youth, strength, skill, and wrath, can furnish man withal.

Vio. I pray you, Sir, what is he?

Sir To. He is knight, dubb'd with unhack'd ra pier, and on carpet consideration; but he is a devil in private brawl: souls and bodies hath he divorc ed three; and his incensement at this moment is so implacable, that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death and sepulchre : hob, nob, is his word; give't, or take't.

Vio. I will return again into the house, and desire some conduct of the lady. I am no fighter. I have heard of some kind of men, that put quarrels purposely on others, to taste their valour: belike, this is a man of that quirk.

Sir To, Sir, no; his indignation derives itself out of a very competent injury; therefore, get you on, and give him his desire. Back you shall not to the house, unless you undertake that with me, which with as much safety you might answer him: therefore, on, or strip your sword stark naked; for meddle you must, that's certain, or forswear to wear iron about you.

Vio. This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you, do me this courteous office, as to know of the knight what my offence to him is; it is something of my negligence, nothing of my purpose. Sir To. I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by this gentleman till my return. [Exit Sir Toby. Vio. Pray you, Sir, do you know of this matter? Fab. I know, the knight is incensed against you, even to a mortal arbitrement ý; but nothing of the

circumstance more.

Vio. I beseech you, what manner of man is he? Fab. Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read him by his form, as you are like to find him in the proof of his valour. He is, indeed, Sir, the most skilful, bloody, and fatal opposite that you could possibly have found in any part of Illyria: Will you walk towards him? I will make your peace with him, if I can.

Vio. I shall be much bound to you for't: I am one, that would rather go with Sir priest, than Sir knight: Icare not who knows so much of my mettle. [Exeunt.

Re-enter Sir TOBY, with Sir ANDREW.

Sir To. Why, man, he's a very devil; I have not seen such a virago. I had a pass with him, rapier, scabbard, and all, and he gives me the stuck-in, with such a mortal motion, that it is inevitable, and on the answer, he pays you, as surely as your feet hit the ground they step on: they say, he has been fencer to the Sophy.

Sir And. Pox on't, I'll not meddle with him. Sir To. Ay, but he will not now be pacified: Fabian can scarce hold him yonder.

valiant, and so cunning in fence, I'd have seen him Sir And. Plague on't; an I thought he had been damn'd ere I'd have challenged him. Let him let the matter slip, and I'll give him my horse, grey Capilet.

good show on't; this shall end without the perdition Sir To. I'll make the motion: stand here, make a of souls: marry, I'll ride your horse as well as I ride [Aside.

you.

• Uncautiously.

scarce to be worth talking of: therefore draw, for the supportance of his vow; he protests he will not hurt you.

Vio. Pray God defend me! A little thing would make me tell them how much I lack of a man.

[Aside.

Fab. Give ground, if you see him furious. Sir To. Come, Sir Andrew, there's no remedy; the gentleman will for his honour's sake, have one bout with you: he cannot by the duello avoid it; but he has promised me, as he is a gentleman and a soldier, he will not hurt you. Come on! To't. Sir And. Pray God, he keep his oath! [Draws. Eater ANTONIO.

Vio. I do assure you, 'tis against my will.

[Draws. Ant. Put up your sword ;-if this young gentleman Have done offence, I take the fault on me; If you oherd him, I for him defy you. [Drawing. SiTo. You, Sir, why, what are you? Ant. One Sir, that for his love dares yet do more Than you have heard him brag to you he will. fir To. Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for [Draws.

you.

Enter Two OFFICERS.

Feb. O good Sir Toby, hold; here come the officers. Sir To. I'll be with you anon. [To Antonio. Vio. Pray, Sir, put up your sword, if you please. [To Sir Andrew. Sir And. Marry, will I, Sir:-And, for that I promised you, Pil be as good as my word: he will bear you easily, and reins well.

1 Off. This is the man; do thy office. 2 Off. Antonio, I arrest thee at the sult Of count Orsino.

Ant. You do mistake me, Sir.

1 Op. No, Sir, no jot; I know your favour well, Though now you have no sea-cap on your head.Take him away; he knows, I know him well.

Ant. I must obey.-This comes with seeking you,
But there's no remedy; I shall answer it.
What will you do? Now my necessity

Makes me to ask you for my purse: it grieves me
Mach more, for what I cannot do for you
Than what befails myself. You stand amazed
But be of comfort.

2 Off. Come, Sir, away.

Ant. I must entreat of you some of that money. Vio. What money, Sir?

For the fair kindness you have shew'd me here,
And, part, being prompted by your present trouble,
Out of my lean and low ability

I'll lend you something: my having is not much;
I'll make division of my present with you:
Hold, there is half my coffer.

Ant. Will you deny me now?

Is't possible, that my deserts to you

Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery,
Lest that it make me so unsound a man,
As to upbraid you with those kindnesses
That I have done for you.

Fio. I know of none;

Nor know I you by voice, or any feature:
I hate ingratitude more in a man,

Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness,
Or any taint of vice, whose strong corruption
Inhabits our frail blood.

Ant. O heavens themselves!
2 off. Come, Sir, I pray you, go.

Aut. Let me speak a little. This youth that see here,

you

I snatch'd one half out of the jaws of death;
Relieved him with such sanctity of love,-
And to his image, which, methought, did promise
Most venerable worth, did I devotion.

I 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. 1 Of. The man grows mad; away with him. Come, come, Sir.

Ant. Lead me on. [Exeunt Officers, with Antonio. Vio. Methinks, his words do from such passion fly, That he believes himself; so do not I.

Prove true, imagination, 0, 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 sage

saws.

Vio. He named 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: 0, if it prove, Tempests are kind, and sait waves fresh in love! [Erit.

Sir To. A very dishonest paltry bey, 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, a most devout coward, religious in it.

Sir And. 'Slid, I'll after him again, and beat him. Sir To. Do, cuff him soundly, but never draw thy sword.

SCENE I.-The Street before OLI IA's House. Enter SEBASTIAN and CLOWN.

Clo. Will you make me believe, that I am not sent for you?

Seb. Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow; Let ine 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 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.

Cla. Vent me 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 pry'thee, foolish Greek, 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 men, that give fools money, get themselves a good report after fourteen years' purchase. Enter Sir ANDREW, Sir TOEY, 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 Sir Andrew. Sir To. Hold, Sir, or I'll 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 struck him first, yet it's no matter for that. Seb. Let go thy hand.

Sir To. Come Sir, 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 wouldst thou now? If thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword. [Draws. Sir To. What, what? Nay, then I must have an ounce of two of this malapert blood from you. [Draws.

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 sight!

In the refleciton of my own figure. + Let out.

Be not offended, dear Cesario-
Rudesby, be gone! I pr'ythee, gentle friend.

[Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian.

Let thy wisdom, not thy passion, sway
In this uncivil and unjust extent +
Against thy peace. Go with me to my house :
And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks
This ruffian hath botch'd up 1, 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!

Oli. Nay, come, I pr' ythee; 'would thou'dst be ruled by me !

Seb. Madam, I will.
Oli. O, say so, and so be!

[Exeunt.

SCENE 11.-A Room in OLIVIA'S House.

Enter MARIA and CLOWN.

Mor. Nay, I pr'ythee, put on this gown, and this beard; make him believe, thou art Sir Topas the curate; do it quickly : I'll call Sir Toby the whilst. [Erit Maria.

Clo. Well, I'll put it on, and I will dissemble || my. self in't; and I would I were the first that ever dissembled in such a gown. I am not fat 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 careful man, and a great scholar. The competitorsenter.

Enter Sir TOBY BELCH, and MARIA.

Sir To. Jove bless thee, master parson.

Clo. Bonos dies, Sir Toby: for as the old hermit of Prague, that never saw pen and ink, very wittily said to a niece of king Gorboduc, That, that is, is. so I, being master parson, am master parson; for what is that, but that? and is, but is?

Sir To. To him, Sir Topas.

Clo. What, hoa, I say,-Peace in this prison !
Sir To. The knave .counterfeits well; a good

knave.

Mal. [In an inner chamber.] Who calls there? Clo. Sir Topas, the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio the lunatic.

Mal. Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to my lady.

Clo. Out, hyperbolical fiend! How 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 laid me here in hideous darkness.

Clo. Fie, thou dishonest Sathan! I call thee by the most modest 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, Sir Topas.

Clo. Why, it hath bay windows ** transparent as barricadoes, and the clear stones towards the southnorth are as lustrous as ebony; and yet complainest thou of obstruction?

Mal. I am not mad, Sir 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 abused: I am no more mad than you are; make the trial of it in any constant question #t.

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

Mal. That the sour of our grandam might haply

cock, lest thou dispossess the soul of thy grandam. Fare thee well.

Mal. Sir Topas, Sir Topas !

Sir To. My most exquisite Sir Topas!
Clo. Nay, I am for all waters.

Mal. Thon might'st have done this without thy beard, and gown; he sees thee not.

Sir To. To him ir thine own voice, and bring me word how thou find'st him: I would, we were well rid of this knavery. If he may be convenienty deliver'd, I would he were; for I am now so far in offence with my niece, that I cannot pursne with any safety this sport to the upshot. Come by and by to my chamber. [Exeunt Sir Toby and Maria. Clo. Hey Robin, jolly Robin,

Tell me how thy lady does.

Mal. Fool,

[Singing.

Mal. Good fool, as ever thou wilt deserve well at my hand, help me to a candle, and pen, ink, and paper; as I am a gentleman, I will live to be thankful to thee fo't.

Clo. Master Malvolio!

Mul. Ay, good fool.

Clo. Alas, Sir, how fell you besides your five wits t?

Mal. Fool, there was never man so notoriously abused: I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art. Clo. But as well? Then you are mad, indeed, if you be no better in your wits than a tool.

Mal. They have here propertied me ‡; keep me in darkness, send ministers to me, asses, and do all they can to face me out of my wits.

Clo. Advise you what you say; the minister is here. Malvolio, Malvolio, thy wits the heavens restore! Endeavour thyself to sleep, and leave thy vain bibble babble.

Mal. Sir Topas,

Clo. Maintain no words with him, good fellow-Who, I, Sir? Not I, Sir. God b'wi'yon, good Sit Topas Marry, amen.-I will, Sir, I will.

Mal. Fool, fool, fool, I say,

Clo. Alas, Sir, be patient. What say you, Sir? I am shent for speaking to you.

Mal. Good fool, help me to some light, and some paper; I tell thee, I am as well in my wits, as any man in Illyria.

Clo. Well-a-day,-that you were, Sir!

Mal. By this hand, I am: good fool, some ink, paper, and light, and convey what I will set down to my lady; it shall advantage thee more than ever the bearing of letter did.

Clo. I will help you to't. But tell me true, are you not mad indeed? Or do you but counterfeit ? Mal. Believe me, I am not; I tell thee true. Clo. Nay, I'll ne'er believe a madman, till I see his brains. I will fetch you light, and paper, and ink.

Mal. Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree: I pr'ythee be gone.

Clo. I am gone, Sir,
And anon, Sir,
I'll be with you again,
In a trice,

Like to the old vice,
You need to sustain;

Who with dagger of lath,
In his rage and his wrath,
Cries, ah, ha! To the devil.
Like a mad lad,
Pare thy nails, dad,

Adieu, goodman drivel.

SCENE III-OLIVIA's Garden.

Enter SEBASTIAN.

[Exit.

Seb. This is the air: that is the glorious sun; This pearl she gave me, I do feel't, and see't: And though 'tis wonder that enwraps me thus, Yet 'tis not madness. Where's Antonio then? I could not find him at the Elephant: Yet there he was: and there I found this credit **, That he did range the town to seek me out.

Any other gem as a topaz. + Senses. Taken possession of. Scolded, reprimanded. A buffoon character in the old plays, and father of the modern harlequin.

**Account.

His counsel now might do me golden service:
For though my soul disputes well with my sense,
That this may be some error, but no nadness,
Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune
So far exceed all instance, all discourse,
That I am ready to distrust mine eyes,
And wrangle with my reason, that persuades me
To any other trust, but that I am mad,
Or else the lady's mad; yet, if 'twere so,
She could not sway her house, command her fol-
lowers,

Take, and give back, affairs, and their despatch,
With such a smooth, discreet, and stable bearing,
As I perceive, she does: there's something in't,
That is deceivable. But here comes the lady.

Enter OLIVIA and a PRIEST.

Oll. Blame not this haste of mine: if you mean well,

Now go with me, and with this holy man,
Into the chantry by: there, before him,
And underneath that consecrated roof,
Plight me the full assurance of your faith;
That my most jealous and too doubtful soul
May live at peace: he shall conceal it,
Whiles you are willing it shall come to note;
What time we will our celebration keep
According to my birth.-What do you say!

Seb. I'll follow this good man, and go with you;
And having sworn truth, ever will be true.
Oli. Then lead the way, good father ;—and hea-
vens so shine,
That they may fairly note this act of mine! [Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I.-The Street before OLIVIA's House. Enter CLOWN and FABIAN.

Fab. Now, as thou lovest me, let me see his letter.

Clo. Good master Fabian, grant me another request.

Fab. Any thing.

Clo. Do not desire to see this letter.

Fab. That is, to give a dog, and, in recompense, desire my dog again.

Enter DUKE, VIOLA, and Attendants. Duke. Belong you to the lady Olivia, friends? Clo. Ay, Sir; we are some of her trappings. Duke. I know thee well:-How dost thou, my good fellow ?

Clo. Truly, Sir, the better for my foes, and the worse for my friends.

Duke. Just the contrary; the better for thy friends.

Clo. No, Sir, the worse. Duke. How can that be?

Clo. Marry, Sir, they praise me, and make an ass of me; now my foes tell me plainly, I am an ass: so that by my foes, Sir, I profit in the knowledge of myself: and by my friends I am abused: so that, conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives make your two affirmatives, why, then, the worse for my friends, and the better for my foes.

Duke. Why, this is excellent.

Clo. By my troth, Sir, no; though it please you to be one of my friends.

Duke. Thou shalt not be the worse for me; there's gold.

Clo. But that it would be double-dealing, Sir, I would you could make it another.

Duke. O, you give me ill counsel.

Clo. Put your grace in your pocket, Sir, for this once, and let your flesh and blood obey it. Duke. Well, I will be so much a sinner, to be a double dealer; there's another.

Clo. Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play; and the old saying is, the third pays for all: the triplex, Sir, is a good trippling measure; or the bells of St. Bennet, Sir, may put you in mind; One, two, three. Duke. You can fool no more money out of me at this throw if you will let your lady know, I am here to speak with her, and bring her along with you, it may awake my bounty further.

Clo. Marry, Sir, lullaby to your bounty, till I come again. I go, Sir; but I would not have you to think, that my desire of having is the sin of covetuousness: • Reason. + Belief. Servants. Little chapel.

Until.

but as you say, let your bounty take a nap, I will awake it anon. [Erit Clown.

Enter ANTONIO and OFFICERS.
Vio. Here comes the man, Sir, that did rescue me.
Duke. That face of his I do remember well;
Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmear'd
As black as Vulcan, in the smoke of war:
A bawbling vessel was he captain of,
For shallow draught, and bulk, unprizable;
With which such scathful grapple did he make
With the most noble bottom of our fleet,
That very envy, and the tongue of loss,
Cried fame and honour on him.-What's the matter!
1 Off. Orsino, this is that Antonio,

That took the Phoenix, and her fraught+ from Candy;
And this is he, that did the Tiger board,
When your young nephew Titus lost his leg:
Here in the streets, desperate of shame and state,
In private brabble did we apprehend him.

Vio. He did me kindness, Sir; drew on my side;
But in conclusion, put strange speech upon me,
I know not what 'twas, but distraction.

Duke. Notable pirate! Thou salt-water thief! What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies, Whom thou, in terms so bloody, and so dear, Hast made thine enemies?

Ant. Orsino, noble Sir,

Be pleased that I shake off these names you give me ;
Antonio never yet was thief, or pirate,
Though, I confess, on base and ground enough,
Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither:
That most ingrateful boy there, by your side,
From the rude sea's enraged and foamy mouth
Did I redeem; a wreck past hope he was:
His life I gave him, and did thereto add
My love, without retention, or restraint,
All his in dedication: for his sake,
Did I expose myself, pure for his love,
Into the danger of this adverse town;
Drew to defend him, when he was beset:
Where being apprehended, his false cunning,
(Not meaning to partake with me in danger,)
Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,
And grew a twenty-years-removed thing,
While one would wink; denied me mine own purse,
Which I had recommended to his use
Not half an hour before.

Vio. How can this be?

Duke. When came he to this town!

Ant. To day, my lord; and for three months before,

(No Interim, not a minute's vacancy,)
Both day and night did we keep company.

Enter OLIVIA and Attendants.

Duke. Here comes the countess; now heaven walks on earth.

But for thee, fellow, fellow, thy words are madness:
Three months this youth hath tended upon me·
But more of that anon.-Take him aside.
Oli. What would my lord, but that he may not
have,

Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?—
Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.
Vio. Madam?

Duke. Gracious Olivia,

Duke. Why should I not, had I the heart to do it, Like to the Egyptian thief, at point of death, Kill what I love; a savage jealousy, That sometimes savours nobly-But hear me this: Since you to non-regardance cast my faith, And that I partly know the instrument That screws me from my true place in your favour, Live you the marble-breasted tyrant, still; But this your minion, whom, I know, you love, • Mischievous. Dull, gross.

+ Freight.