Sir To. And they have been grand Jury-men, fince before Noah was a Sailor.

Fab. She did fhew Favour to the Youth in your Sight, only to exafperate you, to awake your dormoufe Valour, to put Fire in your Heart, and Brimstone in your Liver. You fhould then have accofted her, and with fome excellent Jefts, fire-new from the Mint, you should have bang'd the Youth into Dumbness. This was look'd for at your Hand, and this was baulkt. The double gilt of this Opportunity you let Time wash off, and you are now fail'd into the North of my Lady's Opinion, where you will hang like an Ifickle on a Dutchman's Beard, unless you do redeem it by fome Attempt, either of Valour or Policy.

Sir And. And't be any way, it must be with Valour, for Policy I hate: I had as lief be a Brownist,'as a Politician.

Sir To. Why then build me thy Fortunes upon the Bafis of Valour. Challenge me the Duke's Youth to fight with him, hurt him in eleven Places, my Neice fhall take Note of it, and affure thy felf, there is no Love-broker in the World can more prevail in Mens Commendation with Women, than Report of Valour.

Fab. There is no way but this, Sir Andrew.

Sir An. Will either of you bear me a Challenge to him?

Sir To. Go, write it in a martial Hand, be curft and brief: it is no matter how witty, fo it be eloquent, and full of Invention; taunt him with the License of Ink; if thou thou❜ft him fome thrice, it fhall not be amifs; and as many Lies as will lye in thy Sheet of Paper, although the Sheet were big enough for the Bed of Ware in England, fet 'em down, and go about it. Let there be Gall enough in thy Ink, tho' thou write it with a Goofe-Pen, no matter: About it.

Sir An. Where fhall I find you?

Sir To. We'll call thee at the Cubiculo: Go.

[Exit Sir Andrew. Fab. This is a dear Manakin to you, Sir Toby. Sir To. I have been dear to him, Lad, fome two thousand ftrong, or fo.

Fab. We shall have a rare Letter from him; but you'll not deliver't.

Sir To. Never truft me then; and by all means ftir on the Youth to an Answer. I think Oxen and Wain-ropes can not hale them together. For Andrew, if he were open'd, and you find fo much Blood in his Liver as will clog the Foot of a Flea, I'll eat the rest of th' Anatomy.

Fab. And his Oppofite the Youth bears in his Vifage no great Prefage of Cruelty. Enter Maria.

Sir To. Look where the youngest Wren of mine comes. Mar. If you defire the Spleen, and will laugh your felves into Stitches, follow me; yond gull Malvolio is turned Heathen, a very Renegado; for there is no Christian that means to be fav'd by believing rightly, can ever believe fuch impoffible Paffages of Groffnefs. He's in yellow Stock ings.

Sir To. And Crofs-garter'd?

Mar. Moft villanoufly; like a Pedant that keeps a School i'th' Church: I have dog'd him like his Murtherer. He does obey every Point of the Letter that I dropt to betray him; he does fmile his Face into more Lines than is in the new Map, with the Augmentation of the Indies; you have not feen fuch a thing as 'tis; I can hardly forbear hur ling things at him. I know my Lady will ftrike him; if the do, he'll fmile, and tak't for a great Favour.

Sir To. Come, bring us, bring us where he is.

SCENE II. The Street.

Enter Sebaftian and Anthonio.

[Exeunt.

Seb. I would not by my Will have troubled you,
But fince you make your Pleafure of your Pains,
I will no further chide you.

Ant. I could not stay behind you; my Defire,
More fharp than filed Steel, did fpur me forth,
And not all Love to fee you, tho' so much
As might have drawn one to a longer Voyage,
But Jealoufie, what might befall your Travel,
Being skille's in thefe Parts; which to a Stranger,
Unguided and unfriended, often prove

Rough

Rough and unhofpitable. My willing Love,
The rather by these Arguments of Fear
Set forth in your Purfuit.

Seb. My kind Anthonio,

I can no other Answer make, but Thanks:
But were my Worth, as is my Confcience firm,
You should find better Dealing: What's to do?
Shall we go see the Relicks of this Town?

Ant. To Morrow, Sir, best first go fee your Lodging.
Seb. I am not weary, and 'tis long to Night,
I pray you let us fatisfie our Eyes

With the Memorials, and the Things of Fame
That do renown this City.

Ant. Would you'ld pardon me:

I do not without Danger walk these Streets.
Once in a Sea-fight 'gainft the Duke his Gallies,
I did fome Service, of fuch Note indeed,

That were I ta'en here, it would scarce be anfwer'd.
Seb. Belike you flew great Number of his People.
Ant. Th' Offence is not of fuch a bloody Nature,
Albeit the Quality of Time, and Quarrel,
Might well have given us bloody Argument:
It might have fince been anfwer'd in repaying
What we took from them, which for Traffick's fake
Most of our City did. Only my self stood out,
For which if I be lapfed in this place

I shall pay dear.

Seb. Do not then walk too open.

Ant. It doth not fit me: Hold, Sir, here's my Purse.
In the South Suburbs at the Elephant

Is beft to lodge: I will befpeak our Diet,
Whiles you beguile the time, and feed your Knowlege
With viewing of the Town, there fhall you have me.
Seb. Why I your Purfe?

Ant. Haply your Eye fhall light upon fome Toy
You have defire to purchase; and your Store

I think is not for idle Markets, Sir.

Seb. I'll be your Purfe-bearer, and leave you For an Hour.

Ant. To th' Elephant.

Seb. I do remember.

Exeunt.

SCEN

SCENE IV. Olivia's House.

Enter Olivia and Maria.

Oli. I have fent after him; he fays he'll come. How fhall I feaft him? What beftow of him?

For Youth is bought more oft, than begg'd, or borrow'd. I speak too loud; where's Malvolio, he is fad and civil, And fuits well for a Servant with my Fortunes.

Where is Malvolie?

Mar. He's coming, Madam:

But in very ftrange manner. He is fure poffeft, Madam, Oli. Why, what's the matter, does he rave?

Mar. No, Madam, he does nothing but fmile; your La dyfhip were beft to have fome guard about you, if he come, for fure the Man is tainted in's Wits.

[Smile fantastically.

Oli. Smil'ft thou? I fent for thee upon a fad Occafion.

Mal. Sad Lady, I could be fad;

This does make fome Obftruction in the Blood;

This cross-gartering, but what of that?

If it please the Eye of one, it is with me as the very true Sonnet is: Please one, and please all.'

Oli. Why? How do'ft thou Man?

What is the matter with thee?

Mal. Not black in my Mind, though yellow in my Legs It did come to his Hands, and Commands fhall be executed. I think we do know the fweet Roman Hand. Oli. Wilt thou go to Bed, Malvolio?

Mal. To Bed? ay, fweet Heart; and I'll come to thee. Oli. God comfort thee; why doft thou smile so, and kiss thy Hand fo oft?

Mar. How do you, Malvolio?

Mal. At your Request !

Yes, Nightingales anfwer Daws.

Mar.

Mar. Why appear you with this ridiculous Boldness be

fore my Lady?

Mal. Be not afraid of Greatnefs; 'twas well writ.

Oli. What meanest thou by that, Malvolio?

Mal. Some are born great

Oli. Ha?

Mal. Some atchieve Greatness

Oli. What fay'ft thou?

Mal. And fome have Greatness thruft

Oli. Heav'n restore thee.

upon them

Mal. Remember who commended thy yellow Stockings----
Oli. Thy yellow Stockings?

Mal. Wish'd to fee thee crofs-garter'd

Oli. Cross-garter'd?

Mal. Go to, thou art made, if thou defir'ft to be fo

Oli. Am I made?

Mal. If not, let me fee thee a Servant ftill.

Oli. Why this is very Midfummer Madness.

Enter Servant.

Ser. Madam, the young Gentleman of the Duke Orfino's is return'd, I could hardly entreat him back; he attends your Ladyship's Pleasure.

Oli. I'll come to him.

Good Maria, let this Fellow be look'd to. Where's my Coufin Toby? let fome of my People have a fpecial Care of him, I would not have him miscarry for the Half of my Dowry.

[Exit.

Mal. Oh, ho, do you come near me now? No worfe Man than Sir Toby to look to me! This concurs directly with the Letter, the fends him on purpose that I may appear ftubborn to him; for fhe incites me to that in the Letter. Caft thy humble Slough, fays fhe; be oppofite with a Kinfman, furly with Servants, let thy Tongue tang with Arguments of State, put thy felf into the Trick of Singularity, and confequently fets down the manner how; as a fad Face, a reverend Carriage, a flow Tongue, in the Habit of fome Sir of Note, and fo forth. I have lim'd her, but it is Jove's doing, and Jove make me thankful; and when The went away now, let this Fellow be look'd to: Fellow! Not Malvolio, nor after my Degree, but Fellow. Why