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Clo. This will I tell my Lady strait : 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; tho'I ftruck 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 irón; you are well Aesh'd : come on.

Seb. I will be free from thee. What wouldst 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 sight!

:
Be not offended, dear Cesario :-
Rudesby, be gone! I pr’ythee, gentle Friend,

[Exeunt Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew.
Let thy fair 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, that thou thereby
May'st smile at this : thou shalt not chuse 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. [by me.

Oli. Nay, come, I pray: 'would, thou'dit be rul'd
Seb. Madam, I will.
Qli, O, say so, and so be!

[Exeunt. SCENE

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L14

SCENE, an Apartment in Olivia's House.

Enter Maria, and Clown. Mar. AY, I prythee, put on this Gown and

this Beard; make him believe, thou art Sir Topas the Curate; do it quickly. I'll call Sir Toby chę whilst.

[Exit 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 dil, sembled in such a Gown. I am not tall enough to be: come 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 Competitors enter.

Enter Sir Toby, and Maria.
Sir To. Jove bless thee, Mr. Parson.
Clo. Bonos dies, Sir Toby; for as the old Hermit of

' Prague, that never saw pen and ink, very wittily said to a Neice of King Gorboduck, that that is, is: so I being Mr. Parson, am Mr. 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.

(Malvolio within. Mal. Who calls there?

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

Mal. Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to my lady: Clo. Out, hyperbolical fiend, how vexest thou this

man?
Talkest thou of nothing but of ladies?

Sir To. Well said, matter Parson.
Mal. Sir Topas. 9

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

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that will use the Devil himself with curtesie: say’lt thou, that house is dark ?

Mal. As hell, Sir Topas.

Clo. Why, it hath bay-windows transparent as baricadoes, and the clear stones towards the South-North, are as lustrous as ebony; and yet complaineft thou of obstruction ?

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

Clo. Madman, thou erreft; 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 tryal 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.

Clo. Fare thee well: remain thou still in darkness; thou shalt hold th' opinion of Pythagoras, ere I will allow of thy wits; and fear to kill a woodcock, left 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.

Mar. Thou might'st have done this without thy beard and Gown; he sees thee not.

Sir To. To him in thine own voice, and bring me word how thou find'ft him: I would, we were all rid of this knavery. If he may be conveniently deliver’d, I would, he were; for I am now so far in offence with my Neice, that I cannot pursue with any safety this {port to the upihot. Come by and by to my chamber.

[Exit with Maria.

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Clo.

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Clo. Hey Robin, jolly Robin, tell me how my lady
does.

[Singing
Mal. Fool,
Clo. My lady is unkind, perdie.
Mal. Fool,
Clo. Alas, why is the so?
Mal. Fool, I say;
Clo. She loves another who calls, ha?

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 for't.

Clo. Mr. Malvolio!
Mal. Ay, good fool.
Clo. Alas, Sir, how fell you besides your five wits ?

Mal. Fool, there was never man so notoriously abus'd; I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art.

Clo. But as well! then thou art mad, indeed, if you be no better in your wits than a fool.

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 say: the minister is here. Malvolio, Malvolio, thy wits the heav'ns restore: endeavour thy self 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'w'you, good Sir 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 set down to my lady: It shall advantage thee more than ever the bearing of letter did.

Gla.

you what

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 truc.

Clo. Nay, I'll ne'er believe a mad-man, 'till I fee his brains. I will fetch you light, and paper, and ink.

Mal. Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree;
I prythee, be gone.
Clo. I am gone, Sir, and anon, Sir, [Singing.

I'll be with you again
In a trice, like to the old Vice, (17)

Your need to fuftain:
Who with dagger of lath, in his rage, and his wrath,

Cries, ab, ha! to the Devil:
Like a mad lad, pare thy nails, dad,
Adieu, good man drivel.

[Exit. SCENE changes to another Apartment in

Olivia's House.

Enter Sebastian.
Seb. This is the Air, that is the glorious Sun;
This Pearl she gave me, I do feel't and fee't.
And though 'tis wonder that enwraps me thus,
Yet 'tis not madness. Where's Anthonio then?
I could not find him at the Elephant ;
Yet there he was, and there I found this credit, (18)

That

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(17) In a trice, like to the old Vice.] So in Ben Jonson's The Devil is an Ass.

What is he calls upon me, and would seem to lack a Vice?

Ere his Words be half spoken, I am with him in a trice.
In Both these Places, by Vice, is meant that buffoon, droll, Character
so general in the old Plays, who was dreft up in a long Coat, a Fool's
Cap with Affes Ears, and furnish'd with a wooden Sword, with which
he was as active and wanton as Arlequin. But I have explain the
Word and Charakter more particularly in a Note upon this Line of
King Richard IIId.

Thus, like the formal Vice, Iniquity, &c.
(18) Yet there he was, and there I found this Credit,

That he did range, &c.] i. e. I found it justified, credibly youch'd. Whether the Word Credit will easily carry this Meaning, I am doubtful: The Expression seems obscure; and tho' I have not difturb’d the Text, I very much suspect that the Poet wrote;

and there I found this credent,

He

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