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Lady loves me. She did commend my yellow ftockings of late, she did praise my leg, being cross-garter'd, and in this she manifests herself to my love, and with a kind of injunction drives me to these habits of her liking. I thank my stars, I am happy: I will be strange, stout, in yellow stockings, and cross-garter'd, even with the swiftness of putting on. Jove, and

my stars be praised ! – Here is yet a postscript. Thou canst not chuse but know who I am; if thou entertainest my love, let it appear in thy fniling; thy smiles become thee well. Therefore in my presence still smile, dear my sweet, I pr’ythee.Jove, I thank thee! I will smile, I will do every thing that thou wilt have me. Exit.

Fab. I will not give my part of this sport for a pension of thousands to be paid from the Sophy..

Sir To. I could marry this wench for this device.
Sir And. So could I 100.

Sir To. And ask no other dowry with her, but such another jest.

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Sir And. No Fab. Here comes my noble gull

Enter Maria.
I neither.

catcher.
Sir To. Wilt thou set thy foot o'my neck ?
Sir And. Or o' mine either?

Sir To. Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and become thy bond-llave?

Sir And. I'faith, or I either?

Sir To. Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that when the image of it leaves him, he must run mad.

Mar. Nay, but say true, does it work upon him?
Sir To. Like Aqua vitæ with a midwife.

Mar. If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark his firit approach before my Lady: he will

come

come to her in yellow stockings, and 'tis a colour she abhors; and cross-garter'd, a falhion she detests; and he will smile upon her, which will now be so unsuitable to her disposition, being addicted to a melancholy, as she is, that it cannot but turn him into a notable contempt : if you will see it, follow me.

Sir To. To the gates of Tartar; thou most excellent devil of wit ! Sir And. I'll make one too.

Exeunt.

A CT III. S C É NE I.

OLIVIA's Garden.

Enter Viola, and Clown.

V10 LA.

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AVE thee, Friend, and thy music: dost thou

live by thy Tabor ? Clo. No, Sir, I live by the Church. Vio. Art thou a Churchman?

Clo. No such matter, Sir; I do live by the Church: for I do live at my House, and my House doth stand by the Church.

Vio. So thou may'st say, the King lies by a Beggar, if a Beggar dwell near him: or the Church stands by thy Tabor, if thy Tabor stand by the Church.

Clo. You have said, Sir: to see this age ! - A fentence is but a * chev'ril glove to a good wit; how quickly the wrong side may be turned outward ?

Vio. "Nay, that's certain; they, that dally nicely with words, may quickly make them wanton.

Clo. I would therefore, my Sifter had had no Name,

Sir.

* a chev'ril glove] A Glove made of a Kid's Skin, from Chevereul, French. Chiaverello, Ital. Caprillus, Lat.

Mr. Pope.

1

Vio. Why, Man?

Clo. Why, Sir, her Name's a word; and to dally with that word, might make my Sister wanton; but, indeed, words are very rascals, since bonds disgrac'd them.

Vio. Thy reason, Man ?

Clo. Troth, Sir, I can yield you none without words ; and words are grown so false, I am loth to prove reason with them.

Vio. I warrant, thou art a merry Fellow, and carest for nothing.

Clo. Not so, Sir, I do care for something; but, in my conscience, Sir, I do not care for you: if that be to care nothing, Sir, I would, it would make you invisible.

Vio. Art not thou the Lady Olivia's Fool?

Clo. No, indeed, Sir; the Lady Olivia has no folly; she will keep no Fool, Sir, 'till she be married; and Fools are as like Husbands, as Pilchers are to Herrings, the Husband's the bigger: I am, indeed, not her Fool, but her Corrupter of Words.

Vio. I saw thee late at the Duke Orsino's.

Clo. Foolery, Sir, does walk about the Orb like the Sun; it shines every where. I would be sorry, Sir, but the fool should be as oft with your Master, as with my Mistress: I think, I saw your wisdom there. .

Vio. Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee. Hold, there's expences for thee.

Clo. Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send thee a beard !

Vio. By my troth, I'll tell thee, I am almost fick for one, though I would not have it grow on my chin.

Is thy lady within ?
Clo. Would not a pair of these have bred, Sir ?
Vio. Yes, being kept together, and put to use.

Clo. I would play lord Pandarus of Phrygia, Sir, to bring a Cressida to this Troylus.

Vio. I understand you, Sir, 'tis well begg’d.

Clo,

Clo. The matter, I hope, is not great, Sir; begging but a beggar: Cressida was a beggar. My lady is within, Sir, I will conster to them whence you come;

who

you are, and what you would, is out of my welkin; I might say, element; but the word is over-worn.

{Exit. Vio. This fellow is wise enough to play the fool, And, to do that well, craves a kind of wit : He must observe their mood on whom he jefts, The quality of the persons, and the time; And, like the haggard, check at every feather That comes before his eye. This is a practice, As full of labour as a wise-man's art : For folly, that he wisely shews, is fit ; But wise men's folly fall'n, quite taints their wit.

SA

SCENE II.

Enter Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew.
Sir And. A VE you, genileman.

Vio. And you, Sir.
Sir To. Dieu vous guarde, Monheur.
Vio. Et vous aussi; votre serviteur.

Sir To. I hope, Sir, you are; and I am yours. Will you encounter the House?

my

Niece is desirous yon should enter, if

your

trade be to her. Vio. I am bound to your Niece, Sir; I mean, she is the list of my voyage.

Sir To. Taste your legs, Sir, put them to motion.

Vio. My legs do better understand me, Sir, than I understand what you mean by bidding me taste my legs. Sir To. I mean, to go, Sir, to enter.

Vio. I will answer you with gait and entrance; but we are prevented.

Enter Olivia and Maria. Most excellent accomplish'd lady, the heav'ns rain odours on you!

Sir And. That youth's a rare Courtier! rain odours ? well. Vio. My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your most

pregnant and vouchsafed ear. Sir And. Odours, pregnant, and vouchsafed :

I'll get 'em all three ready.

Oli. Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing. [Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Maria.

* Own

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Give me your hand, Sir.

Vio. My duty, Madam, and most humble service.
Oli. What is your name!
Vio. Cesario is your servant's name, fair Princess.

Oli. My servant, Sir? 'Twas never merry world,
Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment:
Y'are servant to the Duke Orfino, youth.

Vio. And he is yours, and he must needs be yours: Your servant's servant is your fervant, Madam.

Oli. For him, I think not on him: for his thoughts, 'Would they were blanks, rather than fill'd with me!

Vio. Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts On his behalf.

Oli. O, by your leave, I pray you; I bade you never speak again of him. But would you undertake another suit, I'd rather hear you to solicit That, Than music from the spheres.

Vio. Dear lady,

Oli. Give me leave, I beseech you: I did send, After the last enchantment you did here, A ring in chase of

you.

So did I abuse
Myself, my servant, and, I fear me, you ;
Under your hard construction mult í fit,
To force that on you in a shameful cunning,
* most pregnant, and vouchsafed car. ] Pregnant, for ready.

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