Clo. Well, I'll put it on, and I will diffemble my felf in't; and I would I were the firft that ever diffembled in fuch a Gown. I am not tall enough to become the Function well, nor lean enough to be thought a good Student; but to be faid an honeft Man, and a good Housekeeper, goes as fairly as to fay, a careful Man and a great Scholar. The Compe titors enter.

Enter Sir Toby.

Sir To. Jove bless thee, Mr. Parfon.

Clo. Bonos dies, Sir Toby; for as the old Hermit of Pragm, that never faw Pen and Ink, very wittily faid to a Neece of King Gorbodack, that that is, is; fo I being Mr. Parfon, am Mr. Parfon; for what is that, but that? and is, but is ? Sir To. To him, Sir Topas.

Clo. What hoa, I fay, 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 vifit Malvolio the Lunatick.

Mal. Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas go to my Lady. Clo. Out hyperbolical Fiend, how vexeft thou this Man? Talkeft thou nothing but of Ladies?

Sir To. Well faid, Mr. Parfon.

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 difhoneft Sathan; I call thee by the most modeft Terms, for I am one of thofe gentle ones that will use the Devil himself with Curtefie: Say'ft thou that House is dark?

Mal. As Hell, Sir Topas.

Clo. Why it hath bay Windows tranfparent as Baricadoes, and the clear Stones towards the South North, are as luftrous as Ebony; and yet complaineft thou of Obstruction? Mal. I am not mad, Sir Topas, I fay to you this House is dark.

Clo. Mad-man, thou erreft; I fay there is no Darkness but Ignorance, in which thou art more puzzel'd than the Egyptians in their Fogg.

Mal,

Mal. I fay this Houfe is as dark as Ignorance, though Ignorance were as dark as Hell; and I fay there was never Man thus abus'd, I am no more mad than you are, make the trial of it in any conftant Question.

Clo. What is the Opinion of Pythagoras, concerning Wild-foul?

Mal, That the Soul of our Grandam might happily inhabit a Bird.

Clo. What think'ft thou of his Opinion?

Mal. I think nobly of the Soul, and no way approve his Opinion.

Clo. Fare thee well: Remain thou ftill in Darkness, thou fhalt hold th❜Opinion of Pythagoras, e'er I will allow of thy Wits, and fear to kill a Woodcock, left thou difpoffefs the House of thy Grandam. Fare thee well.

Mal. Sir Topas, Sir Topas.

Sir To. My moft exquifite Sir Topas.
Clo. Nay, I am for all Waters.

Mar. Thou might'ft have done this without thy Beard and Gown, he fées thee not.

Sir To. To him in thine own Voice, and bring me word how thou find'ft him: I would we were all rid of this Knavery. If he may be conveniently deliver'd, I would he were, for I am now fo far in offence with my Neice, that I cannot pursue with any Safety this Sport to the upshot. Come by and by to my Chamber.

[Exit. Clo. Hey Robin, jolly Robin, tell me how thy Lady does. [Singing.

Mal. Fool.

Mal. Good Fool, as ever thou wilt deferve 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. Mr. Malvolio!

Mal. Ay, good Fool.

Clo, Alas, Sir, how fell

you befides

your five Wits?

Mal. Fool, there was never Man fo notorioufly abus'd I am as well in my Wits, Fool, as thou art.

Co

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 darknefs, fend Ministers to me, Affes, and do all they can to face me out of my Wits.

Clo. Advise you what you fay: The Minifter is here. Malvolio, Malvolio, thy Wits the Heav'ns reftore: Endeayour thy self to fleep, and leave thy vain bibble babble. Mal. Sir Topas.

Clo. Maintain no Words with him, good Fellow.

Who I, Sir, not I, Sir. God buy you, good Sir Topas : Marry Amen. I will, Sir, I will, Sir.

Mal. Fool, Fool, Fool, I fay.

Clo. Alas, Sir, be patient. What say you, Sir, I am shent for fpeaking to you.

Mal. Good Fool, help me to fome Light, and fome Paper; I tell thee I am as well in my Wits, as any Man in Illyria.

Clo. Well-a-day that you were, Sir.

Mal. By this Hand I am: Good Fool, fome Ink, Paper and Light; and convey what I will fet down to my Lady: It shall advantage thee more, than ever the bearing of Let ter did.

Clo. I will help you to't. But tell me true, are you not mad indeed, or do you but counterfeit ?

Mal. Believe me, I am not, I tell thee true.

Clo. Nay, I'll ne'er believe a Mad-man 'till I fee his Brains. I will fetch you Light, and Paper, and Ink,

Mal. Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree;

I prethee be gone.

Clo. I am gone, Sir, and anon, Sir,

I'll be with you again

In a trice, like to the old Vice,

Your Need to fustain.

[Singing.

Who with Dagger of Lath, in his Rage and his Wrath,

Cries ah, ah, to the Devil:

Like a mad Lad, pair thy Nails, Dad,

Adieu, good Man Devil.

[Exit.

SCENE

SCENE III.

Enter Sebaftian.

Seb. This is the Air, that is the glorious Sun,
This Pearl fhe gave me, I do feel't and fee't.
And though 'tis wonder that enwraps me thus,
Yet 'tis not madness. Where's Anthonio then?
I could not find him at the Elephant,

Yet there he was, and there I found this Credit,
That he did range the Town to feek me out.
His Counsel now might do me golden Service,
For tho' my Soul difputes well with my Senfe,
That this may be fome Error, but no Madness,
Yet doth this Accident and Flood of Fortune,
So far exceed all Inftance, all Discourse,
That I am ready to diftruft mine Eyes,
And wrangle with my Reafon that perfuades me
To any other Truft, but that I am mad,
Or elfe the Lady's mad; yet if 'twere fo,

She could not fway her Houfe, command her Followers,
Take, and give back Affairs, and their dispatch,
With fuch a smooth, difcreet, and ftable-bearing
As I perceive the does: There's fomething in't
That is deceivable. But here the Lady comes.
Enter Olivia and Priest.

Oli. Blame not this hafte of mine: If you mean well,
Now go with me, and with this holy Man
Into the Chantry by; there before him,
And underneath that confecrated Roof,
Plight me the full affurance of your Faith,
That my moft jealous and too doubtful Soul
May live at Peace. He fhall conceal it,
Whiles you are willing it fhall come to note,
What time we will our Celebration keep
According to my Birth. What do you say?

Seb. I'll follow this good Man, and go with you,

And having fworn Truth, ever will be true.

Oli. Then lead the way, good Father, and Heav'n fo fhine, That they may fairly note this A&t of mine.

[Exeunt.

ACT

ACT V. SCENE I.

Enter Clown and Fabian.

Fab.TOW, as thou lov'ft me, let me fee this Letter.
Clo. Good Mr. Fabian, grant me another Request,

Fab. Any thing.

Clo. Do not defire to see this Letter.

Fab. This is to give a Dog, and in recompence defire my Dog again.

Enter Duke, Viola, Curio, and Lords.

Duke. Belong you to the Lady Olivia, Friends?
Clo. Ay, Sir, we are fome of her Trappings.

Duke. I know thee well; how doft thou, my good Fellow?

Clo. Truly, Sir, the better for my Foes, and the worfe for my Friends.

Duke. Juft the contrary; the better for thy Friends.
Clo. No, Sir, the worse.

Duke. How can that be?

Clo. Marry, Sir, they praise me, and make an Afs of me; now my Foes tell me plainly, I am an Afs: So that by my Foes, Sir, I profit in the Knowledge of my felf, and by my Friends I am abused: So that Conclufions to be as Kiffes, if your four Negatives make your two Affirmatives, why then the worfe for my Friends, and the better for my Foes. Duke. Why this is Excellent.

Clo. By my troth, Sir, no; tho' it please you to be one of my Friends.

Duke. Thou shalt not be the worse for me, there's Gold. Clo. But that it would be double-dealing, Sir, I would could make it another.

Duke. O you give me ill Counsel.

Clo. Put your Grace in your Pocket, Sir, for this once, and let your Flesh and Blood obey it.

Duke. Well, I will be fo much a Sinner to be a doubledealer: There's another.

Clo. Primo, Secundo, Tertio, is a good Play, and the old faying is, the third pays for all: The triplex, Sir, is a good

tripping