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If you offend him, I for him defy you.
Sir T. You, fir ? why, what are you?
Ant. One, fir, that for his love dares yet do more Than
have heard him brag to you he will.
Enter two Officers.
[to Antonio. V10. ,
Pray, fir, put your sword up, if you please. Sir A. Marry, will I, fir : and, for that I promis'd you, I'll be as good as my word; he will bear you easily, and reins well.
1.0. This is the man; do thy office.
2. O. Antonio, I arreft thee at the suit
ANT. You do mistake me, fir.
Ant. I must obey.. This comes with seeking you :
2. O. Come, fir, away.
Ant. I must intreat of you
Vio. What money, sir?
Out of my lean and low ability
Ant. Will you deny me now?
V10. I know of none;
ANT. O heavens themselves !
1. O. What's that to us ? the time goes by; away.
Ant. But, o, how vile an idol proves this god!
1.0. The man grows mad; away with him.
Ant. Lead me on. [Exeunt Officers with Ant.
V10. Methinks, his words do from such passion fiy, That he believes himself; so do not I: Prove true, imagination, o, prove true, That I, dear brother, be now ta’en for you!
Sir T. Come hither, knight, come hither, Fabian; we'll whisper o’er a couplet or two of most sage faws.
[converse apart. V10. He nam'd Sebastian : I my brother know Yet living in my glass ; even such, and so, In favour was my brother ; and he went Still in this fashion, colour, ornament, For him I imitate : 0, if it prove, Tempests are kind, and salt waves fresh in love.
[Exit VIOLA. Sir T. A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward than a hare: his dishonefty appears, in leaving his friend here in necessity, and denying him; and for his coward, ship, ask Fabian.
FAB. A coward, a most devout coward, religious in it.
[Exit. FAB. Come, let's see the event. Sir T. I dare lay any money, 'twill be nothing yet.
[for you? Cla. Will
you make me believe, that I am not sent
SEB. Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow; Let me be clear of thee.
Clo. Well held out, i'faith! No, I do not know you; nor I am not sent to you by my lady, to bid you come speak with her; nor your name is not master CeJario; nor this is not my nose neither: nothing, that is fo, is fo•
SEB. I pr’ythee, vent thy folly somewhere else ; Thou know'st not me.
Clo. Vent my folly! He has heard that word of some great man, and now applies it to a fool. Vent my folly! I am afraid this great lubber the world will prove a cockney.- I pr’ythee now, ungird thy ftrangeness, and tell me what I shall vent to my lady; Shall I vent to her, that thou art coming?
SEB. I pr’ythee, foolish Greek, depart from me;
payment. Clo. By my troth, thou hast an open hand: wise men, that give fools money, get themselves a good report, after fourteen years purchase.
Enter Sir ANDREW, Sir Toby, and Fabian. Sir A. Now, fir, have I met you again ? there's for you.
[striking Sebastian. *SEB, Why, there's for thee, and there, and there, and there :
(Ariking him again. Are all the people mad ?
Sir T. Hold, sir, or l’llthrow yourdaggero'er the house.
Clo. This will I tell my lady straight : I would not be in some of your coats for two-pence. [Exit Clown. Sir T. Come on, fir; hold.
[ holding Sebastian. Sir A. Nay, let him alone, I'll go another way to
work with him ; I'll have an action of battery against him, if there be any law in Illyria: though I strook him first, yet it's no matter for that.
SEB. Let go thy hand.
Sir T. Come, fir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier, put up your iron : you are well flesh'd;
[now? SEB. I will be free from thee. What would'st thou
[wrenches from him, and draws. If thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword.
Sir T. What, what? Nay, then I must have an ounce or two of this malapert blood from you. [draws too.
Enter OLIVIA, haft:ly. 011. Hold, Toby; on thy life, I charge thee, hold. Sir T. Madam?
Ol1. Will it be ever thus ? Ungracious wretch, Fit for the mountains, and the barbarous caves, Where manners ne'er were preach'd! out of my fight!Be not offended, dear Cesario :Rudesby, be gone ! _ I pr’ythee, gentle friend,
[Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir ANDREW, and Fabian. Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway In this uncivil and unjust extent Against thy peace, Go with me to my house; And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks This ruffian hath botch'd up, that thou thereby May’ft smile at this : thou Ihalt not choose but go; Do not deny: Beshrew his soul for me, He started one poor heart of mine in thee.
SEB. What relish is in this ? how runs the stream? Or I am mad, or else this is a dream : Let fancy still my fense in Lethe steep;