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But this your minion, whom I see you love,
And whom, by Heaven, I swear, I tender dearly,
Him will I tear out of that cruel eye,
Where he sits crowned, in his master's spite.-
Come, boy, with me ; my thoughts are ripe in mischief :
I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love,
To spite a raven's heart within a dove.

[Exeunt Duke and Gentlemen, R.
Vio. And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly,
To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die. [Going
Oli

. Where goes Cesario ?
Vio. After him I love.
More than I love these eyes, more than my life ;
If I do feign, you witnesses above,
Punish my life for tainting of my love !
Oli

. Ah, me, forsaken ! how am I beguiled !
Vio. Who does beguile you ? who does you wrong ?

Oli. Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long ?
Call forth the holy father, [Exeunt two Servants, R.

Enter DUKE, R.
Duke. (To Viola.) Come away.
Oli. Whither, my lord ?-Cesario, husband, stay !
Duke. Husband !
Oli. Ay, husband ; can he that deny ?
Duke. Her husband, sirrah?
Vio. No, my lord, not I.

Oli. Fear not, Cesario, take thy fortunes up ;
Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art
As great as that thou fear'st.

Enter FRIAR and two Seavants, R.
Oh, welcome, father !
Father, I charge thee, by the reverence,
Here to unfold (though lately we intended
To keep in darkness what occasion now
Reveals before 'tis ripe,) what thou dost know,
Hath newly passed between this youth and me.

Friar. A contract of eternal bond of love,
Confirmed by mutual joinder of your hands,
Strengthened by interchangement of your rings ;
And all the ceremony

Sealed in my function, by my testimony :
Since when, toward my grave,
I have travelled but two hours.

Duke. Oh, thou dissembling cub ! what wilt thou be
When time hath sowed a grizzle on thy case ?
Farewell, and take her : but direct thy feet,
Where thou and I henceforth may never meet

Vio. My lord, I do protest

Oli. Do not swear ;
Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear.

[Olivia sends away the Friar, R. Enter SiR ANDREW, L., crying with a broken head. Sir An. Oh, oh!--for the love of heaven, a surgeon ! send one presently to Sir Toby.

Oli. What's the matter ?

Sir An. He has broke my head across, and has given Sir Toby a bloody coxcomb, too! for the love of heaven, your help ! I had rather than forty pound I were at home.

Oli. Who has done this, Sir Andrew ?

Sir An. The duke's gentleman, one Cesario : we took him for a coward, hut he's the very devil incardinate.

Duke. My gentleman, Cesario?

Sir An. Od's lifelings, here he is !---you broke my head for nothing ; and that that I did, I was set on to do’t by Sir Toby.

Vio. Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you : You

ew your sword upon me without cause ; But I bespake you fair, and hurt you not.

Sir An. If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you bave hurt me ; I think you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb.

Sir 70. Without, L. Holla, Sir Andrew !—where are you?

Sir An. Here comes Sir Toby, halting-you shall hear more : but if he had not been in drink, he would have tickled your Toby for you. Enter Sir Toby, drunk, with his forehead bleeding, led by the

Clown, L. Duke. How now, gentleman ? How is't it with you?

Sir To. That's all one ; he has hurt me, and there's the end on’t.-Sot, did'st thou see Dick surgeon, sot?

TWELFTH NIGHT.

SCENE I.]

Clown. Oh, he's drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone.

Sir To, Then he's a rogue, a drunken rogue—and I hate a druken rogue.

Enter SEBASTIAN, behind, L. Oli. Away with him ; who hath made this havoc with them?

Sir An. I'll help you, Sir Toby, because we'll be dressed together.

Sir To. Will you help, an ass-head, and a coxcomb,
And a knave ? a thin-faced knave, a gull ?
Oli. Get him to bed, and let his hart be looked to.

[Exeunt Sir Andrew, Sir Toby and Clown. L. Seb. (Advances.) I am sorry, madam, I have burt your

kinsman ;
But, had it been the brother of my blood,
I must have done no less, with wit and safety.

[Antonio, secing Sebastian, comes forward
You throw a strange regard upon me, and
By that I do perceive it hath offended you ,
Pardon me, sweet one, even for the vows
We made each other but so late ago.

Duke. One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons ! A natural perspective, that is, and is not.

Seb. Antonio, ob, my dear Antonio !
How have the hours racked and tortured me,
Since I have lost thee.

Ant. Sebastian, are you?
Seb. Fearest thou that, Antonio ?

Ant. How have you made a division of yourself?
An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin
Than these two creatures.

Which is Sebastian ?
Oli. Most Wonderful !
Seb. (Sees Viola.) Do I stand here? I never had a

brother :
I had a sister,
Whom the blind waves and surges have devoured :-
of charity, (To Viola,) what kin are you to me?
What countryman ? what name? what parentage?

Vio. Of Messaline ; Sebastian was my father ;
Such a Sebastian was my brother, too,
So went he suited to his watery tomb:

If spirits can assume both form and suit,
You come to fright us.

Seb. Were you a woman, as the rest goes even,
I should my tears let fall upon your cheek,
And say—Thrice welcome, drowned Viola !

Vio. If nothing lets to make us happy both,
But this masculine usurped attire,
Away with doubt :-each other circumstance
Of place, time, fortune, doth cohere, and jump,
That I am Viola—your sister Viola. ( They embı ace.
Seb. (To Olivia.) So comes it, lady, you have been mis-

took. Duke. If this be so, as yet the glass seems true, I shall have share in this most happy wreck !

Boy, ( To Viola,) thou hast said to me a thousand times, Thou never should'st love woman like to me.

Vio. And all those swearings keep as true in soul,
As doth that orbed continent, the fire,
That severs day from night.

Duke. Give me thy hand;
And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds.

Vio. The captain, that did bring me first on shore,
Hath my maid's garments : he, upon some action,
Is now in durance, at Malvolio's suit,
A gentleman and a follower of my lady's.

Oli. He shall enlarge bim :-fetch Malvolio bither :
And yet, alas, now I remember me,
They say, poor gentlemen, he's much distract.

Enter Clown, with a letter, and FABIAN, R. S. E.
How does Malvolio, sirrah ?

Clown. Truly, Madam, he holds Belzebub at the staves end, as well as a man in his case may do : he has here writ a letter to you : I should have given it to you to-day morning ; but as a madman's epistle's are no gospels, so it skills not much when they are delivered.

Oli. Open it, and read it.

Clown. Look, then, to be well edified, when the fool delivers the madman ! (Reads) "By the Lord, madam,'

Oli. How now ! art thou mad ?
Clown. No, madam, I do but read madness.
Oli. (To Fabian.) Read it you, sirrah.

injury.

Scene I.]

TWELFTH NIGHT. Fab. (Reads.) 'By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and the world shall know it : though you have put me into darkness, and given your drunken cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my senses as well as your ladyship. I have

your own letter, that induced me to the semblance I put on ; with the which I doubt not but to do myself much right, or you much shame. Think of me as you please. I leare my duty a little unthought of, and speak out of my

* The madly-used Malvolio.'
Oli. Did he write this ?
Clown. Ay, madam.
Duke. This savors not much of distraction.
Oli. See him delivered, Fabian ; bring binn hither.

Erit, Fabian, R.
My lord, so please you, these things further thought on.
To think me as well a sister as a wife.
One day shall crown the alliance on’t, so please you,
Here at my house.

Duke. Madam, I am most apt to embrace your offerYour master quits you : (To Viola,) and, for your service

done him,
Here is my hand ; you shall from this time
Your master's mistress be.

Enter Malvolio, with a letter, and FABIAN, R. S. E.
Is this the madman ?
Oli. Ay, my lord, this same :

Malvolio ?
Mal. Madam, you have done me wrong-

How now,

Notorious wrong.

Oli. Have I, Malvolio ?
Mal. Lady, yon have. Pray you, peruse that letter :

[Gives Olivia the letter. You must now now deny it is

your
band

;
Write from it, if you can, in band, or phrase.

'tis not your seal, nor your invention.
Oli. Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing ;
Though I confess, much like the character ;
But, oat of question, 'tis Maria's hand :
And, now I do bethink me, it was she
First told me thou wast mad :

Or say,

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