Clo. I would play lord Pandarus of Phrygia, Sir, to bring a Cressida to this Troilus.

Vio. I understand you, Sir; 'tis well begg'd.

Clo. The matter, I hope, is not great, Sir, begging but a beggar; Cressida was a beggar. My lady is within, Sir; 1 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 SIR TOBY BELCH, and SIR ANDREW AGUE

CHEEK.

Sir. To. Save you, gentleman.

Vio. And you, Sir.

Sir And. Dieu vous garde, Monsieur.

Vio. Et vous aussi; votre serviteur.

my

Sir And. I hope, Sir, you are; and I am yours. Sir To. Will you encounter the house? niece is desirous you should enter, if your trade be to her.

Vio. I am bound to your niece, Sir: I mean, she is the list of my voyage.

Sir To. Taste your legs, Sir, put them to motion. Vio. My legs do better understand me, Sir, than I understand what you mean by bidding me taste my legs.

Sir To. I mean, to go, Sir, to enter.

Vio. I will answer you with gait and entrance: But we are prevented,

Enter OLIVIA and MARIA..

Most excellent accomplish'd Lady, the heavens rain odours on you!

Sir And. That youth's a rare courtier! Rain odours! well.

Vio. 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 servant's name, fair Princess. Oli. My servant, Sir! 'Twas never merry world, Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment: You are servant to the Count Orsino, youth. Vio. And he is yours, and his must needs be yours;

Your servant's servant is your servant, Madam. Oli. For him, I think not on him: for his

thoughts,

Would they were blanks, rather than fill'd with me! Vio. Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts

Oli. O, by your leave, I pray you.

I bade you never speak again of him;
But, would you undertake another suit,
I had rather hear you to solicit that,
Than musick from the spheres.

Oli. Give me leave, I 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 shewn; a cyprus, not a bosom,

Hides my poor heart: So let me hear you speak. Vio. I pity you.

Oli. That's a degree of love.

Vio. No, not a grise; for 'tis a vulgar proof, That very oft we pity enemies.

Oli. Why, then, methinks, 'tis time to smile again:

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
harvest,

Your wife is like to reap a proper man:

There lies your way, due west.

Vio. Then westward-hoe:

to

Grace, and good disposition 'tend your Ladyship! You'll nothing, Madam, to my lord by me?

Oli. Stay:

I pr'ythee, tell me, what thou think'st of me.

Vio. That you do think, you are not what you are.

I think the same of

you...

Vio. Then think you right; I am not what

Oli. I would,

I am.

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. 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, mangre all my 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.

Vio. By innocence I swear,

youth,

and by my

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.

Enter SIR

SCENE II.

A room in Olivia's house.

TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW AGUE-
CHEEK, and FABIAN,

Sir And. No, faith, I'll not stay a jot longer. Sir To. Thy reason, dear venom, give thy reason. 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't i'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 judgement and reason.

Sir To. And they have been grand jury-men, 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, fire-new from the mint, you should have bang'd the youth into dumbness. This was look'd for at your hand, and this was Baulk'd: 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.