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Ant. Let me speak a little. This youth that you see

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

i Off. What's that to us? the time goes by, away.
Ant. But oh, how vile an idol proyes this God !
Thou haft, 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'erflourishd by the devil.

i Off. The man grows mad, away with bim : Come, come, Sir. Ant. Lead me on.

[Exit Anthonio with Officers. Vio. Methinks, his words do from such passion fly, That he believes himself; so do not 1: Prove true, imagination, oh, 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 fage faws.

Vio. He nam'd Sebastian; I my brother know Yet living in my glass; even such, and sa In favour was my brother; and he went Suill in this fashion, colour, ornament; For him I imitate : oh, if it prove, Tempests are kind, and salt waves frelb in love. [Exit.

Sir To. A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward than a hare; his dishonesty appears in leaving his friend here in neceffity, and denying him ; and for his cowardship, ask Fabian.

Fab. A coward, a moft 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.
Sir And. An I do not,

(Exit Sir Andrew. Fab. Come, let's see the event. Sir To. I dare lay any mony, 'twill be nothing yet.


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CLOWN. make me believe, that I am not sent

W for you?

ILL you
for you?

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Seb. Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow.. Let me 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 fo.

Seb. I pr’ythee, vent thy folly somewhere else; thou know'st not me.

Clo. Vent my 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 ftrangeness and tell me what I shall vent to my Lady ; shall I vent to her, that thou art coming ?

Seb. I pr’ythee, foolish Greek, depart from me; there's mony 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 mony, get themselves a good report after fourteen years purchase.

Enter Sir Andrew, Sir Toby, and Fabian.
Sir And. Now, Str, have I met you again? there's

[Striking Sebastian.


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for you.

Seb. Why, there's for thee, and there, and there: are all the people mad ? . [Beating Sir Andrew.

Si. To. Hold, sir, or I'll throw your dagger o'er the house.

Cle. This will I tell my Lady ftrait: 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 truck 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 foldier, put up your iron ; you are well Aesh's: come on.

Seb. I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou now? If thou dar'it 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 fight!
Be not offended, dear Cesario :
Rudesby, be gone! I prythee, gentle friend,

[Exeunt Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew. Let thy fair wisdom, not thy paffion, fway In this uncivil and unjutt 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 foul 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,


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Lét fancy fill my fen e in Lethe lieep,
If it be thus to dream, Itill let, me sleep,
Oli. Nay, come, I pray: 'would, thou'dft be ruld

by me.
Şebi Madam, I will.
ON, O, fay fo, and fo be!

(Exeunt. SCENE, ản Apartment in Olivia's House.

Enter Maria, and Clown.
Mar. A Y, I pr’ythee, put on this gown, and this

beard ; make him believe, thou art Sir Topas
curate; do it quickly. I'll call Sir Toby the whilft.

Exit Maria. Clo. Well, I'll put it on, and I will dissemble myself in't ; and I would, I were the firit that ever dissembled in such

a gown. I am not tall 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 fcholar. The competitors enter.

Enter Sir Toby, and Maria.
Sir To. Fove bless thee, Mr. Parson.
Clo. Bonos dies, Sir Toby; for as the old hermit of
Prague, that never faw pen and ink, very wittily faid to
a neice of King Gorboduck, that that is, is : fo 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 curate, who comes to visit Malvolio the lunatick. Mal. Sir Topas, si Topas, good Sir Topas, go to my





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Clo. Out, hyperbolical fiend, how vexest thou this

man ? Talkeft thou of nothing but 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 fathan ; I call thee by the most modest terms; for I am one of those gentle ones, that will use the devil himself with curtesie : say't thou, that house is dark?

Mal. As hell, Sir Topas.

Cle. Why, it hath bay windows transparent as bari. cadoes, and the clear stones towards the fouth-north are as luftrous as ebony; and yet complainest thou of obstruction ?

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

Clo. Madmen, 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 foul of our grandam might happily inhabit a bird.

Clo. What think'it 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 exquifite Sir Topas !
Clo. Nay, I am for all waters.


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