Sir To. Then he's a rogue. After a passy-measure, or a pavin*, I hate a drunken rogue.

Oli. Away with him: Who hath made this bavock with them?

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

Sir To. Will you help an ass-head, and a cox. comb, and a knave? a thin-faced knave, a gull? Oli. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to. [Exeunt Clown, Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew.

Enter Sebastian.

Seb. I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kins

man;

But, had it been the brother of my blood,

I must have done no less, with wit, and safety.
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, O my dear Antonio !

How have the hours rack'd and tortur'd me,
Since I have lost thee.

Ant. Sebastian are you i

Seb.

Fear'st thou that, Antonio?

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

Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian?
Oli Most wonderful!

Seb. Do I stand there? I never had a brother:
Nor can there be that deity in my nature,
Of here and every where. I had a sister,

Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd:-
Of charityt, what kin are you to me? [To Viola.

Serious dancers.

+ Out of charity tell me.

What countryman? what name? what parent

age?

Vio. Of Messaline: Sebastian was my father;
Such a Sebastian was my brother too,

So went be suited to his watery tomb:
If spirits can assume both form and suit
You come to fright us.

Seb.
A spirit I am indeed;
But am in that dimension grossly clad,
Which from the womb I did participate.
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. My father had a mole upon his brow.
Seb. And so had mine.

Vio. And died that day when Viola from her birth Had number'd thirteen years.

Seb. O, that record is lively in my soul!

He finished, indeed, his mortal act,

That day that made my sister thirteen years.
Vio. If nothing lets to make us happy both,
But this my masculine usurp'd attire,

Do not embrace me, till each circumstance

Of place, time, fortune, do cohere, and jump,
That I am Viola: which to confirm,

I'll bring you to a captain in this town,

Where lie my naiden weeds; by whose gentle help,
I was preserv'd, to serve this noble count:
All the occurrence of my fortune since

Hath been between this lady, and this lord.
Seb. So comes it, lady, you have been mistook:
[To Olivia.

But nature to her bias drew in that.
You would have been contracted to a maid;
Nor are you therein, by my life, deceiv'd;
You are betroth'd both to a maid and man.

Duke. Be not amaz'd; right noble is his blood.

If this be so, as yet the glass seenis true,

* Hinders.

I shall have share in this most happy wreck:
Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times,

[To Viola.

Thou never should'st love woman like to me.
Vio. And all those sayings will I over-swear;
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, IIath my maid's garments: he, upon some action, Is now in durauce; at Malvolio's suit.

A gentleman, and follower of my lady's.

Oli. He shall enlarge him :-Fetch Malvolio hither:

And yet, alas, now I remember me,
They say, poor gentleman, he's much distract.

Re-enter Clown, with a letter.

A most extracting phrensy of mine own
From my remembrance clearly banish'd his.
How does he, sirrah?

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

Oli. Open it, and read it.

Clo. Look then to be well edified, when the fool delivers the madman:- By the lord, madam,Oli. How now! art thon mad?

Clo. No, madam, I do but read madness: an your ladyship will have it as it ought to be, you must allow vox*.

Oli. Pr'ythee, read i'thy right wits.

* Voice.

.Clo So I do, madonna; but to read his right wits, is to read thus: therefore perpend*, my princess, and give ear.

Oli. Read it you, sirrah.

[To Fabian.

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 leave my duty a little unthought of, and speak out of my injury. The madly-used Malvolio.

Oli. Did he write this?

Clo. Ay, madam.

Duke. This savours not much of distraction.

Oli. See him deliver'd, Fabian; bring him hither.

[Exit Fabian. 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, and at my proper cost.

Duke. Madam, I am most apt to embrace your

offer.

Your master quits you; [To Viola.] and, for your service done him,

So much against the mettlet of your sex,

So far beneath your soft and tender breeding,
And since you call'd me master for so long,
Here is my hand; you shall from this time be
Your master's mistress.

Mal. Lady, you have. Pray you, peruse that

letter:

You must not now deny it is your hand,

Write from it, if you can, in hand, or phrase;
Or say, 'tis not your seal, nor your invention:
You can say none of this: Well, grant it then,
And tell me, in the modesty of honour,
Why you have given me such clear lights of favour;
Bade me come smiling, and cross-garter'd to you,
To put on yellow stockings, and to frown
Upon sir Toby, and the lighter* people:
And, acting this in an obedient hope,
Why have you suffer'd me to be imprison'd,
Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest,
And made the most notorious geckt, and gull,
That e'er invention play'd on? tell me why.

Oli. Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing,
Though, I confess, much like the character:
But, out of question, 'tis Maria's hand.
And now I do bethink me, it was she

First told me, thou wast mad; then cam❜st in smiling,

And in such forms which here were presuppos'd
Upon thee in the letter. Pr'ythee be content:
This practice hath most shrewdly pass'd upon thee;
But, when we know the grounds and authors of it,
Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge

Of thine own cause.

Fab.

Good madam, hear me speak;

And let no quarrel, nor no brawl to come,

Taint the condition of this present hour,

Which I have wonder'd at. In hope it shall not,

Most freely I confess, myself, and Toby,

Bet this device against Malvolio here,