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letter.] for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling.
Mal. "Tis but fortune; all is fortune. Maria once told me, she did affect me: and I have heard herself come thus near, that, should she fancy, it should be one of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a more exalted respect, than any one else that follows her. What should I think on't?
Sir To. Here's an over-weening rogue!
Fab. O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him; how he jets 3 under his advanced plumes!
Sir And. 'Slight, I could so beat the
Sir To. Peace, I say.
Mal. To be count Malvolio ;—
Sir To. Ah, rogue!
Sir And. Pistol him, pistol him.
Sir To. Peace, peace!
Mal. There is example for't; the lady of the strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe.
Sir And. Fie on him, Jezebel!
Fab. O, peace! now he's deeply in; look, how imagination blows 4 him.
Mal. Having been three months married to her, sitting in my state,
Sir To. O, for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye! Mal. Calling my officers about me, in my branched
4 Puffs him up.
velvet gown; having come from a day-bed, where I left Olivia sleeping:
Sir To. Fire and brimstone !
Fab. O, peace, peace!
Mal. And then to have the humour of state and
after a demure travel of regard,-telling them, I know my place, as I would they should do theirs,-to ask for my kinsman Toby:
Sir To. Bolts and shackles !
Fab. O, peace, peace, peace! now, now.
Mal. Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for him: I frown the while; and, perchance, wind up my watch, or play with some rich jewel. Toby approaches; court'sies there to me:
Sir To. Shall this fellow live?
Fab. Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace.
Mal. I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar smile with an austere regard of control: Sir To. And does not Toby take you a blow o'the lips then?
Mal. Saying, Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast me on your niece, give me this prerogative of speech:Sir To. What, what? Mal. You must amend Sir To. Out, scab !
Fab. Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our
Mal. Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish knight;
Sir And. That's me, I warrant you.
Mal. One Sir Andrew:
Sir And. I knew, 'twas I; for many do call me fool.
[Taking up the letter.
Fab. Now is the woodcock near the gin. Sir To. O, peace! and the spirit of humours intimate reading aloud to him!
Mal. By my life, this is my lady's hand: these be her very C's, her U's, and her T's; and thus makes she her great P's. It is, in contempt of question,
Sir And. Her C's, her U's, and her T's: Why that? Mal. [reads] To the unknown beloved, this, and my good wishes: her very phrases!-By your leave, wax. -Soft!—and the impressure her Lucrece, with which she uses to seal: 'tis my lady: To whom should this be?
Fab. This wins him, liver and all.
Lips do not move,
No man must know.
No man must know.-What follows? the numbers altered!-No man must know:-If this should be thee, Malvolio?
Sir To. Marry, hang thee, brock!7
Fab. A fustian riddle!
Sir To. Excellent wench, say I.
Mal. M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.-Nay, but first, let me see,-let me see,-let me see.
Fab. What a dish of poison has she dressed him! Sir To. And with what wing the stannyel checks 9 at it!
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, O, A, I.
Sir To. O, ay! make up that:-he is now at a cold scent.
Fab. Sowter will cry upon't, for all this, though it be as rank as a fox.
Mal. M,-Malvolio ;-M,-why, that begins my
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.
Fab. And O shall end, I hope.
Sir To. Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make him ery, O.
Mal. And then I comes behind;
Fab. Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you
might see more detraction at your heels, than fortunes before you.
Mal. M, O, A, I;-This simulation is not as the former :-and yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of these letters are in my name. Soft; here follows prose.—If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I am above thee; but be not afraid of greatness: Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them. Thy fates open their hands; let thy blood and spirit embrace them. And, to inure thyself to what thou art like to be, cast thy humble slough,2 and appear fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants: let thy tongue tang arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of singularity: She thus advises thee, that sighs for thee. Remember who commended thy yellow stockings; and wished to see the ever cross-gartered: I say, remember. Go to; thou art made, if thou desirest to be so; if not, let me see thee a steward still, the fellow of servants, and not worthy to touch fortune's fingers. Farewell. She that would alter services with thee,
The fortunate-unhappy. Day-light and champian3 discovers not more: this is open. I will be proud, I will read politick authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off gross acquaintance, I will be point-de-vice, 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-gartered; and in this