I am a gentleman - I'll be sworn thou art. foft! How now? Unless the master were the man. To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be Enter Malvolio. Mal. Here, Madam, at your service. Oli. Run after that faine peevith messenger, The Duke's man; he left this ring behind him, Would I, or not tell him, I'll none of it. Defire him not to flatter with his Lord, Nor hold him up with hopes; I am not for him: If that the youth will come this way to morrow, I'll give him reasons for't. Hye thee, Malvolio. Mal. Madam, I will. [Exit. Oli. I do, I know not what; and fear to find Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind: Fate, shew thy force; ourselves we do not owe; What is decreed, must be; and be this fo! [Exit. ACT II. SCENE I. W Ex The STREET. Enter Antonio and Sebastian. ANTONIO. ILL you ftay no longer? nor will you not, that I go with you? 8 Seb. By your patience, no: my stars shine darkly over me; the malignancy of my fate might, perhaps, 1 diftemper distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of you your leave, that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad recompence for your love, to lay any of them on you. Ant. Let me yet know of you, whither you are bound. Seb. No, footh, Sir; my determinate voyage is mere extravagancy: but I perceive in you so excellent a touch of modesty, that you will not extort from me what I am willing to keep in; therefore it charges me in manners the rather to express myself: you must know of me then, Antonio, my name is Sebastian; which I call'd Rodorigo; my father was that Sebastian of Meffaline, whom, I know, you have heard of. He left behind him, myself, and a sister, both born in one hour; if the heav'ns had been pleas'd, would we had fo ended! but you, Sir, alter'd that; for, fome-hour before you took me from the breach of the fea, was my sister drown'd. Ant. Alas, the day! Seb. A Lady, Sir, tho' it was said the much resembled me, was yet of many accounted beautiful; but tho' I could not * [with fuch estimable wonder] over-far believe that, yet thus far I will boldly publish her, she bore a mind that envy could not. but call fair: she is drown'd already, Sir, with falt water, tho' I feem to drown her remembrance again with more. Ant. Pardon me, Sir, your bad entertainment. Seb. O good Antonio, forgive me your trouble. Ant. If you will not murder me for my love,-let me be your servant. Seb. If you will not undo what you have done, that is, kill him whom you have recover'd, defire it not. Fare ye well at once; my bosom is full of kindness, and I am yet so near the manners of my mother, that upon the leaft occafion more, mine eyes *[with fuch eftimable wonder] An Interpolation of the Players. ) will tell tales of me: I am bound to the Duke Or fino's court; farewel. [Exit. Ant. The gentleness of all the Gods go with thee! I have made enemies in Orfino's court, [Exit. SCENE II. Enter Viola and Malvolio, at several doors. Mal. WE ERE not you e'en now with the Countels Olivia? 1 2 e Vio. Even now, Sir; on a moderate pace I have fince arrived but hither. Mal. She returns this ring to you, Sir; you might have saved me my pains, to have taken it away yourself. She adds moreover, that you should put your Lord into a defperate Assurance, she will none of him. And one thing more, that you be never fo hardy to come again in his affairs, unless it be to report your Lord's taking of this: receive it fo. Vio. She took the ring of me, I'll none of it. Mal. Come, Sir, you peevishly threw it to her, and her will is, it should be so return'd: if it be worth stooping for, there it lies in your eye; if not, be it his that finds it. [Exit. Vio. I left no ring with her; what means this Lady? She loves me, sure; the cunning of her paffion * - her eyes had left her tongue; We should read, Alluding to the Notion of the Fascination of the Eyes; the Effeas of which were called croffing. None None of my Lord's ring; why, he fent her none. How will this fadge? my master loves her dearly, It is too hard a knot for me t'unty. Sir To. A [Exit. a PPROACH, Sir Andrew: not to be bed after midnight, is to be up betimes; and Diluculo furgere, thou know'ft,Sir And. Nay, by my troth, I know not: but I know, to be up late, is to be up late. Sir To. A falfe conclufion: I hate it, as an unfill'd can; to be up after midnight, and to go to bed then, is early; so that to go to bed after midnight, is to go bed betimes. Does not our life consist of the four elements? Sir And. 'Faith, so they fay; but, I think, it rather confifts of eating and drinking. Sir To. Th'art a scholar, let us therefore eat and drink. Maria! I fay!-a stoop of wine. Enter Enter Clown. Sir And. Here comes the fool, i'faith. Clo. How now, my hearts? did you never fee the picture of we three? Sir To. Welcome, ass, now let's have a catch. Sir And. By my troth, the fool has an excellent breast. I had rather than forty shillings I had fuch a leg, and so sweet a breath to fing, as the fool has. In footh, thou wast in very gracious fooling last night, when thou spok'lt of Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians pafsing the Equinoctial of Queubus: 'twas very good, i'faith: I fent thee fix-pence for thy Lemon, hadft it? Clo. I did impeticos thy gratillity; for Malvolio's nose is no whip-stock. My Lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses. Sir And. Excellent: why, this is the best fooling, when all is done. Now, a Song. Sir To. Come on, there's Six-pence for you. Let's have a Song. Sir And. There's a testril of me too; if one Knight give a Clo. Would you have a Love-song, or a Song of good life? Sir To. A Love-song, a Love-fong. Sir And. Ay, ay, I care not for good life. Clown fings. O mistress mine, where are you roaming? Every wife man's fon doth know. What's |