Sivut kuvina

To her in haste; give her this jewel ; say,
My love can give no place, bide no denay. [Exeunt.


Olivia's Garden,

Enter Sir Toby Belch, Sir ANDREW AGU E

Sir To. Come thy ways, signior Fabian.

Fab. Nay, I'll come; if I lose a scruple of this sport, let me be boil'd to death with melancholy.

Sir To. Would'st thou not be glad to have the niggardly rascally sheep-biter come by some notable shame?

Fab. I would exult, man: you know, he brought me out of favour with my lady, about a bear-baiting


Sir To. To anger him, we'll bave the bear again; and we will fool him black and blue :--Shall we not, sir Andrew ? Sir And. An we do not, it is pity of our lives.

Enter MARIA.


Sir To. Here comes the little villain :-How now,

nettle of India 33 ? Mar. Get ye all three into the box-tree: Malvolio's coming down this walk; he has been yonder i'the sun, practising behaviour to his own shadow, this half hour : observe him, for the love of mockery;

for, I know, this letter will make a contemplative ideot of him. Close, in the name of jesting! [The men. hide themselves.] Lie thou there ; [throws down a letter.] for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling.

[Exit Maria. Enter MALVOLIO. Mal. 'Tis but fortune; all is fortune. Maria once told me, she did affect me: and I have heard herself come thus near, that, should she fancy, it should be one of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a more exalted respect, than any one else that follows her. What should I think on't?

Sir To. Here's an over-weening rogue !

Fab. O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him; how he jets under his advanced plumes !

Sir And. 'Slight, I could so beat the rogue :-
Sir To. Peace, I say.
Mal. To be count Malvolio ;-
Sir To. Ah, rogue

Sir And. Pistol him, pistol him!
Sir To. Peace, peace!

Mal. There is example fort; the lady of the strachy s married the yeoman of the wardrobe.

Sir And. Fie on him, Jezebel !

Fab. O, peace! now he's deeply in; look, how imagination blows him.

Mal. Having been three months married to her, sitting in my state,

Sir To. O, for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye!

Mal. Calling my officers about me, in my branch'd velvet gown; having come from a day-bed, where I have left Olivia sleeping:

Sir To. Fire and brimstone!
Fab. O, peace, peace !

Mal. And then to have the humour of state: and after a demure travel of regard,—telling them, I know my place, as I would they should do theirs,—to ask for my kinsman Toby:

Sir To. Bolts and shackles !
Fab. O, peace, peace, peace ! now, now.

Mal. Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for him: I frown the while; and, perchance, wind up my watch, or play with some rich jewel. Toby approaches ; court’sies there to me:

Sir To. Shall this fellow live?

Fab. Though our silence be drawn from us with cars S5, yet peace.

Mal. I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar smile with an austere regard of control :

Sir To. And does not Toby take you a blow o'the lips then ?

Mal. Saying, Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast me on your niece, give me this prerogative of speech;

Sir To. What, what?
Mal. You must amend

your drunkenness. Sir To. Out, scab!

Fab. Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot.

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Mal. Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish knight;

Sir And. That's me, I warrant you.
Mal. One Sir Andrew :
Sir And. I knew, 'twas I; for many do call me fool.
Mal. What employment have we here?

[Taking up the letter. Fab. Now is the woodcock near the gin.

Sir To. O, peace! and the spirit of humours intimate reading aloud to him !

Mal. By my life, this is my lady's hand : these be her very C's, her U's, and her T's; and thus makes she her great P's 36. It is, in contempt of question, her hand.

Sir And. Her C's, her U's, and her T's: Why that?

Mal. [reads.] To the unknown beloved, this, and my good wishes: her very phrases !-By your leave, wax, -Soft!-and the impressure her Lucrece, with which she uses to seal : 'tis my lady: To whom should this be ?

Fab. This wins him, liver and all.
Mal. [reads.] Jove knows, I love :

But who?
Lips do not move,

No man must know, No man must know.—What follows ? the numbers altered !-No man must know :-If this should be thee, Malvolio?

Sir To. Marry, hang thee, brock !

Mal. I may command, where I adore :

But silence, like a Lacrece knife,
With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore;

M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.
Fub. A fustian riddle !
Sir To. Excellent wench, say I.

Mal. M,0, A, I, doth sway my life.- Nay, but first, let me see,- let me see,- let me see.

Fab. What a dish of poison has she dress'd him !

Sir To. And with what wing the stannyel o checks at it!

Mal. I may command where I adore. Why, she may command me; I serve her, she is my lady. Why, this is evident to any formal capacity. There is no obstruction in this ;- And the end ;-What should that alphabetical position portend ? if I could make that resemble something in me,-Softly!-M, 0, A, 1.

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

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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 ( does.

Fab. And O shall end, I hope.

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