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 knowif 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 ftroke my heart doth gore, M. O. A. I.

doth fway my life.

Fab. A fustian riddle.

Sir To. Excellent wench, say I.

Mal. M. O. A. I. doth sway my life-nay, but

first, let me fee-let me fee

it?

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 something in me? softly - M. О. А. 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.

my name.

Malvolio M. - why, that begins

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 O does.

0.

Fab. And O shall end, I hope.

Sir To. Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make him cry,

Mal. And then I comes behind.

Fab. Ay, and you had any eye behind you, you might fee more detraction at your heels than fortunes before you.

Mal.

Mal. Μ. Ο. A. I. this fimulation is not as the former--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 ftars I am above thee, but be not afraid of greatness; some are born great, some atchieve greatness, and Some have greatness thrust upon them. Thy fates open their bands, let thy blood and spirit embrace them; and to inure thy self to what thou art like to be, caft thy humble lough, and appear fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman, furly with fervants: let thy tongue tang arguments of state; put thy Self into the trick of fingularity. She thus advises thee, that fighs for thee. Remember who commended thy yellow Stockings, and wish'd to see thee ever cross'd-garter'd. I Say, remember; go to, thou art made, if thou defirest to be fo: if not, let me see thee a steward ftill, the fellow of Servants, 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 she manifests her fef 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 stockings, and cross-garter'd, even with the swiftness of putting on. Jove, and my stars be praised! Here is yet a postscript. Thou canst not chuse but know who I am; if thou entertainest my love, let it appear in thy smiling; thy smiles become thee well. Therefore refore in my prefence Still smile, dear my sweet, I prythee. - Jove, I thank thee! I will smile, I will do every thing that thou wilt have me. [Exit.

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

Sir To. I could marry this wench for this device.

Sir And. So could I too.

Sir To. And ask no other dowry with her, but fuch another jeft.

Enter Maria.

Sir And. Nor I neither.

Fab. Here comes my noble gull-catcher.

Sir To. Wilt thou set thy foot o' my neck ?

Sir And. Or o' mine either?

Sir To. Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and be

come thy bond-flave ?

Sir And. I'faith, or I either?

Sir To. Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that when the image of it leaves him, he must run mad.

Mar. Nay, but say true, does it work upon him?
Sir To. Like Aqua vitæ with a midwife.

Mar. If you will then fee the fruits of the sport, mark his first approach before my Lady: he will come to her in yellow ftockings, and 'tis a colour she abbors; and cross-garter'd, a fashion she detests; and he will smile upon her, which will now be so unsuitable to her dispofition, being addicted to a melancholy, as she is, that it cannot but turn him into a notable contempt: if you will see it, follow me.

Sir To. To the gates of Tartar; thou most excellent devil of wit!

Sir And. I'll make one too.

[Exeunt.

ACT

S

SCENE, Olivia's Garden.

Enter Viola, and Clown.

VIOLA.

AVE thee, Friend, and thy mufick: doft thou live by thy Tabor?

Clo. No, Sir, I live by the Church.

Vio. Art thou a Churchman?

Clo. No fuch matter, Sir; I do live by the Church: for I do live at my House, and my House doth stand by the Church.

Vio. So thou may'st say, the King lyes by a Beggar, if a Beggar dwell near him: or the Church stands by thy Tabor, if thy Tabor stand by the Church.

Clo. You have faid, Sir: to fee this age! A fentence is but a chev'ril glove to a good wit; how quickly the wrong fide may be turned outward ?

Vio. Nay, that's certain; they, that dally nicely with words, may quickly make them wanton.

Clo. I would, therefore, my Sister had had no Name, Sir.

Vio. Why, Man?

Clo. Why, Sir, her Name's a word; and to dally with that word, might make my Sister wanton; but, indeed, words are very rascals, since bonds disgrac'd them.

Vio. Thy reason, Man?

Glo. Troth, Sir, I can yield you none without words; and words are grown so false, I am loth to prove reafon with them.

Vio. I warrant, thou art a merry Fellow, and careft for nothing.

Clo

Ch. Not so, Sir, I do care for fomething; but, in my confcience, Sir, I do not care for you: if that be to care for nothing, Sir, I would, it would make you invisible.

Vio. Art not thou the Lady Olivia's Fool?

Clo. No, indeed, Sir; the Lady Olivia has no folly; the will keep no Fool, Sir, 'till the be married; and Fools are as like Husbands, as Pilchers are to Herrings, the Husband's the bigger: I am, indeed, not her Fool, but her Corrupter of Words.

Vio. I saw thee late at the Duke Orfino's.

Clo. Foolery, Sir, does walk about the Orb like the Sun; it shines every where. I would be forry, Sir, but the fool should be as oft with your Master, as with my Mistress: I think, I saw your wisdom there.

Vio. Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee. Hold, there's expences for thee.

Clo. Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, fend thee a beard!

Vio. By my troth, I'll tell thee, I am almost sick for one, though I would not have it grow on my chin. Is thy lady within?

Clo. Would not a pair of these have bred, Sir?

Vio. Yes, being kept together, and put to ufe.

Clo. I would play lord Pandarus of Phrygia, Sir,

to bring a Creffida to this Troylus.

Vio. I understand you, Sir, 'tis well begg'd.

Clo. The matter, I hope, is not great, Sir; begging but a a beggar: Creffida was a beggar. My lady is within, Sir, I will conster to them whence you come; who you are, and what you would, is out of my welkin; I might say, element; but the word is over-worn. [Exit

Vio. This fellow is wife enough to play the fool,
And, to do that well, craves a kind of wit:
He must observe their mood on whom he jefts,
The quality of the perfons, and the time;
And, like the haggard, check at every feather
That comes before his eye. This is a practice,
As full of labour as a wife-man's art:

For