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e'en standing water, between boy and man. He is very well-favour'd, and he speaks very fhrewifhly; one would think, his mother's milk were scarce out of him.

OLI. Let him approach: Call in my gentlewoman. MAL. Gentlewoman, my lady calls.

Re-enter MARIA.

[Exit.

OLI. Give me my veil: come, throw it o'er my face; We'll once more hear Orfino's embassy.

Enter VIOLA.

V10. The honourable lady of the house, which is fhe? OLI. Speak to me, I shall answer for her; Your will? V10. Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable beauty, I pray you, tell me, if this be the lady of the house, for I never faw her: I would be loth to caft away my fpeech; for, befides that it is excellently well pen'd, I have taken great pains to con it. Good beauties, let me fuftain no scorn; I am very comptible, even to the least finifter usage.

OLI. Whence came you, fir?

Vio. I can fay little more than I have study'd, and that question's out of my part. Good gentle one, give me modeft affurance if you be the lady of the house, that I may proceed in my fpeech.

OLI. Are you a comedian ?

V10. No, my profound heart: and yet, (by the very phangs of malice, I fwear) I am not that I play. Are you the lady of the house?

OLI. If I do not usurp myself, I am.

V10. Moft certain, if you are she, you do usurp yourfelf; for what is yours to bestow, is not yours to reserve. But this is from my commiffion: I will on with my fpeech

him in ftanding

in your praise, and then fhew you the heart of my meffage.

OLI. Come to what is important in't: I forgive you the praise.

Vio. Alas, I took great pains to ftudy it, and 'tis poetical.

OLI. It is the more like to be feign'd; I pray you, keep it in. I heard, you were faucy at my gates; and allow'd your approach, rather to wonder at you than to hear you. If you be not mad, be gone; if you have reason, be brief: 'tis not that time of moon with me, to make one in so skipping a dialogue.

MAR. Will you hoift fail, fir? here lies your way. V10. No, good swabber; I am to hull here a little longer. Some mollification for your giant, fweet lady; tell me your mind, I am a meffenger.

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OLI. Sure, you have fome hideous matter to deliver, when the courtesy of it is fo fearful. Speak your office.

V10. It alone concerns your ear. I bring no overture of war, no taxation of homage; I hold the olive in my hand: : my words are as full of peace as matter.

OLI. Yet you began rudely. What are you? what would you?

V10. The rudeness, that hath appear'd in me, have I learn'd from my entertainment. What I am, and what I would, are as fecret as maidenhead: to your ears, divinity; to any others, prophanation.

OLI. Give us the place alone: we will hear this divinity. [Exeunt MARIA, and Attendants.] Now, fir, what is your text?

V10. Moft fweet lady,

OLI. A comfortable doctrine, and much may be faid of it. Where lies your text?

V10. In Orfino's bosom.

OLI. In his bosom? In what chapter of his bosom? Vio. To answer by the method, in the firft of his heart. OLI. O, I have read it; it is herefy. Have you no more to say?

V10. Good madam, let me fee your face.

OLI. Have you any commiffion from your lord to negotiate with my face? you are now out of your text: but we will draw the curtain, [unveiling] and fhew you the picture. Look you, fir, fuch a one I was this present: Is't not well done?

V10. Excellently done, if God did all.

OLI. 'Tis in grain, fir; 'twill endure wind and weather.

V10. "Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white
Nature's own sweet and cunning hand lay'd on :
Lady, you are the cruel'st she alive,

If you will lead these graces to the grave,
And leave the world no copy.

OLI. O, fir, I will not be fo hard-hearted; Į will give out divers schedules of my beauty : It fhall be inventory'd; and every particle, and utenfil, label'd to my will as, item, two lips indifferent red; item, two grey eyes, with lids to them; item, one neck, one chin, and fo forth. Were you fent hither to praise

me?

VIO. I fee you what you are: you are too proud; But, if you were the devil, you are fair.

My lord and mafter loves you; O, fuch love

Could be but recompenc'd, though you were crown'd

The non-pareil of beauty.

OLI. How does he love me?

V10. With adorations, with fertil tears,

With groans that thunder love, with fighs of fire. [him:
OLI. Your lord does know my mind, I cannot love
Yet I fuppose him virtuous, know him noble,

Of great eftate, of fresh and stainless youth;
In voices well divulg'd, free, learn'd, and valiant,
And, in dimenfion and the fhape of nature,
A gracious perfon: but yet I cannot love him;
He might have took his anfwer long ago.
V10. If I did love you in my mafter's flame,
With fuch a fuffering, fuch a deadly life,
In your denial I would find no fenfe,
I would not understand it.

OLI. Why, what would you?

VIO. Make me a willow cabin at your gate,
And call upon my foul within the house;
Write loyal canzons of contemned love,
And fing them loud even in the dead of night;
Hollow your name to the reverberate hills,
And make the babling goffip of the air
Cry out, Olivia! o, you should not rest
Between the elements of air and earth,
But you should pity me.

OLI. You might do much: What is your parentage?
VIO. Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:

I am a gentleman.

OLI. Get you to your lord;

I cannot love him : let him fend no more;
Unless, perchance, you come to me again,
To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well:

19 Cantons

I thank you for your pains: spend this for me.
VIO. I am no fee'd poft, lady; keep your purfe;
My mafter, not myself, lacks recompence.
Love make his heart of flint, that you shall love;
And let your fervour, like my master's, be
Plac'd in contempt! Farewel, fair cruelty.

OLI. What is your parentage? -
Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:

[Exit VIOLA.

I am a gentleman. I'll be fworn, thou art;
Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and fpirit,
Do give thee five-fold blazon: Not too fast; soft;
Unless the mafter were the man. How now?
Even fo quickly may one catch the plague?
Methinks, I feel this youth's perfections,
With an invisible and fubtle ftealth,
To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.
What, ho! Malvolio!

Re-enter MALVOLIO.

MAL. Here, madam, at your fervice.

OLI. Run after that fame peevish meffenger,

The county's man: he left this

ring behind him,

Would I, or not; tell him, I'll none of it.

Desire 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, fhew thy force: Ourfelves we do not owe;
What is decreed, must be; And be this fo!

[Exit.

12 foft, foft, 22 Countes man

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