Mar. Thou might'ft have done this without thy beard and gown, he fees 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 purfue with any safety this sport to the upfhot. Come by and by

to my chamber.

SCENE IV.

[Exit.

Clo. Hey Robin, jolly Robin, tell me how my lady does.

Mal. Fool.

Clo. My lady is unkind, perdie.

Mal. Fool.

Clo. Alas, why is she fo?

Mal. Fool, I fay.

Clo. She loves another---- who calls, ha?

[Singing.

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. Mr. Malvolio!

Mal. Ay, good fool.

Clo. Alas, Sir, how fell you befides your five wits?

Mal. Fool, there was never man fo notoriously abus'd; I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art.

Clo. But as well! then thou art mad indeed, if you be no better in your wits than a fool.

Mal. They have propertied me; they keep me in darkness, send ministers to me, affes, and do all they can to face me out of my wits.

Clo. Advife you what you fay: the minifter is here.

Mal

volio,

volio, Malvolio, thy wits the heav'ns reftore: endeavour thy felf 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 b'w' you, good Sir Topas.
Marry, amen. I will, Sir, I will, Sir.

Mal. Fool, fool, fool, I say.

Clo. Alas, Sir, be patient. What say you, Sir? I am shent

for speaking to you.

Mal. Good fool, help me to fome light, and some 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 fet down to my lady: It shall advantage thee more, than ever the bearing of letter 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 pr'ythee 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 fuftain.

[Singing.

Who with dagger of lath, in his rage, and his wrath,

Cries ab ha! to the devil:

.

Like a mad lad, pair thy nails, dad,

Adieu, good man drivel.

[Exit.

SCENE

SCENE V.

Seb. This is the air,

This pearl fhe gave me,

Enter Sebaftian.

that is the glorious fun,,
I do feel't and see'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 fervice;
For tho' my foul difputes well with my sense,
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 reason that perfuades me
Το any other truft, but that I'm mad,

Or else the lady's mad; yet if 'twere fo,

She could not sway her house, command her followers,
Take, and give back affairs, and their dispatch,
With fuch a smooth, difcreet, and stable bearing
As I perceive fhe does: there's fomething in't

That is deceivable. But here fhe comes.

Enter Olivia and Prieft.

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 most jealous and too doubtful soul

May

He shall conceal it

May live at peace.
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; heav'ns so shine, That they may fairly note this act of mine.

[Exeunt.

N

A CT V. SCENE I.

The STREET.

Enter Clown and Fabian.

FABIAN.

OW, 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 fee 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 some of her trappings.

Duke. I know thee well; how doft thou, my good fellow? Clo. Truly, Sir, the better for my foes, and the worse for my friends.

Duke. Just the contrary; the better for thy friends.
Clo. No, Sir, the worse.

Duke.

Duke. How can that be?

me;

Clo. Marry, Sir, they praise me, and make an ass of now my foes tell me plainly, I am an afs: fo that by my foes, Sir, I profit in the knowledge of my felf, and by my friends I am abused: fo that conclufions to be as kiffes, if

your four negatives make your two affirmatives, why then the worse 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 you could make it another.

Duke. O you give me ill counfel.

Clo. Put your grace in your pocket, Sir, for this once, and let flesh and blood obey it.

your

Duke. Well, I will be fo much a finner to be a double-dealer: there's another.

Clo. Primo, fecundo, tertio, is a good play, and the old faying is, the third pays for all: the triplex, Sir, is a good tripping measure, or the bells of St. Bennet, Sir, may put you in mind, one, two, three.

Duke. You can fool no more mony out of me at this throw; if you will let your lady know I am here to speak with her, and bring her along with you, it may awake my bounty further.

Clo. Marry, Sir, lullaby to your bounty 'till I come again. I go, Sir; but I would not have you to think, that my defire of having is the fin of covetousness; but, as you say, Sir, let your bounty take a nap, I will awake it anon. [Exit Clown.

SCENE