Изображения страниц

Feed on her damask cheek: the pin'd in thought;
And, with a green and yellow melancholy,
She sat like Patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief. Was not this love, indeed ?
We men may say more, swear more, but, indeed,
Our shews are more than will; for ftill we prove
Much in our vows, but little in our love.

Duke. But dy'd thy sister of her love, my boy?

Vio. I'm all the daughters of my fathers' house,
And all the brothers too—and yet I know not-
Sir, shall I to this Lady?

Duke. Ay, that's the theam.
To her in haste; give her this jewel: fay,
My love can give no place, bide no denay. [Exeunt.

SCENE changes to Olivia's Garden.

Sir To. COM L. Xay, i'n come; if I lose a scruple

Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian.

YOME thy ways, . of this sport, let me be boild to death with melancholy.

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

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

Sir To. To anger him, we'll have the bear again ; and we will fool him black and blue, shall we not, Sir Andrew? Sir And. An we do not, it's pity of our lives.

Enter Maria. Sir To. Here comes the little villain: how now, my nettle of India ?

Mar. Get ye all three into the box-tree; Malvolio's coming down this walk, he has been yonder i'th' fun practising behaviour to his own fhadow 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 jefting! lye thou there ; for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling.

[Throws down a Letter, and Exit.

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

Sir To. Here's an over-weaning rogue.-
Fab. O, peace: contemplation makes a rare Tura
key - cock of him; how he jets under his adyanc'd
plumes !

Sir And. 'Slife, 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 for't: the Lady of the Strachy 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 down from a day-bed, where I have left Olivia Neeping.

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 om to ask for -
my uncle Toby-
Sir To. Bolts and shackles !


Fab. Oh, 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, curtsies there to me.

Sir To. Shall this Fellow live?

Fab. Tho' our filence be drawn from us with cares, yet, peace.

Mal. I extend my hand to him thus ; quenching my familiar smile with an auftere regard of controul.

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

Mal. Saying, uncle Toby, my fortunes having cast me on your Neice, give me this prerogative of speech

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


drunkenness. Sir To. Out, scab!

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

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

Sir And. That's me, I warrant you.
Mali One Sir Andrew,–

Sir And. I knew, 'twas I; for many do call me
Mal. What employment have we here?

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

Sir To. Oh peace ! now the spirit of humours intimate reading aloud to him!

Mał. 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. It is, in contempt of question, her hand.

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

Mal. To the unknown belov'd, this, and my good wishes; her

very phrases: By your leave, wax. Soft! and the impreffure her Lucrece, with which she uses to seal ; 'tis my Lady: to whom should this be? Fab. This wins him, liver and all,


-nay, but

Mal. Jove knows I love, but who, lips do not move, no man must know. No man must know what follows ? the number's alter'd no man must know if this should be thee, Malvolio?

Sir To. Marry, hang thee, Brock!
Mal. I may command where I adore, but filence, like a

Lucrece knife,
With bloodless Atroke my heart doth gore, M. O. A. I.

doth fway my life. Fab. A fuftian riddle. Sir To. Excellent wench, say I.

Mal. M. O. A. I. doth sway my lifefirst, let me feelet me fee

Fab. What a dish of poison has she dress’d him?
Sir To. And with what wing the stallion checks at

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 fomething in me? softly ----M. O. 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, tho' it be as rank as a fox.

Mal. M. Malvolio M. why, that begins my name.

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 fhall end, I hope.

Sir To. Ay; or l'll cudgel him, and make him cry, 0.

Mal. And then I comes behind. Fab. Ay, and you had any eye behind you, you night see more detraction at your heels than fortunes

before you.


[ocr errors]

Mal. M. O. A. 1. this simulation is not as the farmer and yet to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of these letters is in my name. Soft, here follows profe- If this fall into thy hand, revolve

. In my fars I am above thee, but be not afraid of greatness ; some are born great, some atchieve greatness, and fome have greatness thrust upon them. Thy fates open their hands, let thy blood and spirit embrace them; and to inure thy self to what thou art like to be, cast thy humble Nough, and appear fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman, furly with servants : let thy tongue tang arguments of fate; put thy self into the trick of fingularity. She thus advises thee, that fighs for thee. Remember who commended tby yellow stockings, and wish'd to see thee ever cross'd-garter'd. I Fay, remember ; go to, thou art made, if thou deforest to be To: if not, let me see thee a Reward fill, the fellow of fervants, and not worthy to touch fortunes' fingers. Farewel. She, that would alter services with thee. The fortunate and happy day-light and champian discovers no more: this is open. I will be proud, I will read politick authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off grofs acquaintance, I will be point devise, the very man. I do not now fool myself, to let imagination jade me; for every reason excites to this, that my Lady loves me. She did commend my yellow stockings of late, she did praise my leg, being cross-garter'd, and in this the manifests her sef to my love, and with a kind of injunction drives me to these habits of her liking. I thank my stars, I am happy: I will be strange, stout, in yellow stock ings, and cross-garter'd, even with the swiftness of putting on. Jove, and my stars be praised !- Here is yet a poftfcript. Thou canst not chuse but know who I am; if thou entertainest my love, let it appear in thy smiling; iby Jmiles become thee well. Therefore in my presence fill smile, dear my sweet, I pr’ythee.-Jove, I thank thee! I will smile, I will do every thing that thou wilt

[Exit. Fab. I will not give my part of this sport for a pension of thousands to be paid from the Sophy.

have me.

« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »