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Clo. By my troth, thou hast an open hand.These wise men that give fools money geï themselves a good report-after fourteen years' purchase.

Enter Sir ANDREW, Sir TeBY, and FABIAN. Sir And. Now, sir, have I met you again ? there's for you.

[Striking Sebastian. Seb. Why, there's for thee, and there, and there :

[Beating Sir Andrew. Are all the people mad ?

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

Clo. This will I tell my lady straight : I would not be in some of your coats for two-pence.

[Exit. Sir To. Come on, sir; hold.

[Holding SEBASTIAN. Şir 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 : though I struck him first, yet it's no matter for that.

Seb. Let go thy hand.

Şir To. Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier, put up your iron: you are well fleshed ; come on.

Seb. I will be free from thee. [Frees himself.] What wouldst thou now? If thou darest tempt me further, draw thy sword.

[Draws. Sir To. What, what? Nay, then I must have an ounce or two of this malapert blood from you.

[Draws. Enter OLIVIA. Oli. Hold, Toby; on thy life I charge thee,

hold.

VOL. III.

II

ever

Sir To. Madam?
Oli. Will it be

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 ! [Exeunt Sir TOBY, Sir ANDREW, and FABIAN.

I pr’ythee, gentle friend, 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 Mayst smile at this : thou shalt not choose 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! Oli. Nay, come, I pr’ythee : 'would thou’dst

be ruled by me! Seb. Madam, I will. Oli.

O, say so, and so be!

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-A Room in Olivia's House.

Enter MARIA and Clown.

Mar. Nay, I pr’ythee, put on this gown, and this beard; make him believe thou art sir Topas the curate; do it quickly: I'll call sir Toby the whilst.

[Exit Maria. Clo. Well, I'll put it on, and I will dissemble myself in't; and I would I were the first 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 scholar. The competitors enter.

Re-enter Maria, with Sir TOBY BELCI. Sir To. Jove bless thee, master parson.

Clo. Bonos dies, sir Toby: for as the old hermit of Prague, that never saw pen and ink, very wittily said to a niece of king Gorboduc, That that is, is : so I, being master parson, am master 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.

Mal. [in an inner chamber.] Who calls there?

Clo. Sir Topas the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio the lunatic

Mal. Sir Topas, sir Topas, good sir Topas, so to my lady.

Clo. Out, hyperbolical fiend ! how vexest thou this man ! talkest thou nothing but of ladies !

Şir To. Well said, master parson.

Mal. Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged : 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

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gentle ones that will use the devil himself with courtesy : sayest thou that house is dark?

Mal. As hell, sir Topas.

Clo. Why, it hath bay-windows transparent as barricadoes, and the clear-stories towards the southnorth are as lustrous as ebony; and yet complainest thou of obstruction ?

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

Cl. Madman, thou errest: 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 say, there was never man thus abused : I am no myre mad than you are; make the trial of it in any constant question.

Clo. What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild-fowl ?

Mal. That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird.

Clo. What thinkest 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 the opinion of Pythagoras ere I will allow of thy wits; and fear to kill a woodcock, lest 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 mightst 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 findest him : I would we were well rid of this knavery. If he may

be conveniently delivered, I would he were; for I am now so far in offence with my niece that I cannot pursue with any safety this sport to the upshot. Come by and by to my chamber.

[Ereunt Sir Toby and MARIA. Clo. [singing.] Hey Robin, jolly Robin,

Tell me how thy lady does.
Mal. Fool,–
Clo. My lady is unkind, perdy
Mal. Fool,-
Clo. Alas, why is she sc?
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. Master Malvolio!
Mal. Ay, good fool.

Clo. Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits?

Mal. Fool, there was never man so notoriously abused: I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou

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art.

Clo. But as well ? then you are 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.

C!.. Advise you what you say; the minister is here.—Malvolio, Malvolio, thy wits the heavens restore ! endeavour thyself to sleep, and leave thy vain bibble babble.

Mal. Sir Topas,
Clo. Maintain no words with him, good fellow,

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