Uncle, uncle, how have you come so early by this le

?

To. Lechery! I defy lechery. There's one at the

Ay, marry: what is he !

To. Let him be the devil, an he will, I care not give th, say I. Well, it's all one. A plague o'these pickle[Erit, R

gs.

-. What's a drunken man like, fool?

wn. Like a drowned man, a fool, and a madman; one ght above heat makes him a fool, the second mads him, the third drowns him.

i. Go thou and seek the coroner, and let him sit o' my e for he's in the third degree of drink, he's drowned : ook after him.

lown. He is but mad yet, madonna ; and the fool shall I to the madman. Exit, R.

Enter MALVOLIO, L.

Mal. Madam, yond young fellow swears he will speak hyou. I told him you were sick; he takes on him to unstand so much, and therefore comes to speak with you. old him you were asleep; he seems to have a fore-knowge of that, too, and therefore comes to speak with you. hat is to be said to him, lady? he's fortified against any nial.

Oli. Tell him he shall not speak with me.

Mal. He has been told so; and he says he'll stand at your Dor like a sheriff's post, and be the supporter of a bench, it he'll speak with you.

Oli. What kind of a man is he?

Mal. Why, of man kind.

Oli. What manner of man?

Mal. Of very ill manner; he'll speak with

Or no.

Oli. Of what personage, and years, is he?

you, will you

Mal. Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough for a boy; as a squash is before 'tis a peascod, or a codling when 'tis almost an apple: it is with him e'en standing water, between boy and man. He is very well favored, and he speaks very shrewishly; one would think his mother's milk were scarce out of him.

Oli. Let him approach: call in my gentlewoman.
Mal. Gentlewoman, my lady calls.

[Exit, I..

Come, throw it o'er my face;

We'll once more hear Orsino's embassy.

Enter VIOLA, L.

Vio. The honorable lady of the house, which is she? Oli. Speak to me, I shall answer for her :-your will? Vio. Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable beauty, I pray you, tell me, if this be the lady of the house, for I never saw her: I would be loath to cast away my speech; for, besides that it is excellently well penned, I have taken great pains to con it.

Oli. Whence came you, sir?

Vio. I can say little more than I have studied, and that question's out of my part. Good gentle one, give me modest assurance if you be the lady of the house.

Oli. If I do not usurp myself, I am.

Vio. Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp yourself; for what is yours to bestow, is not yours to reserve.

Oli. I heard you were saucy at my gates; and allowed your approach, rather to wonder at you than to hear you. If you be not mad, begone; if you have reason, be brief; 'tis not that time of moon with me, to make one in so skipping a dialogue. What are you? What would you?

Vio. What I am, and what I would, are to your ears, divinity; to any other's profanation.

Oli. Give us the place alone: we will hear this divinity. (Exit Maria, 1.) Now, sir, what is thy text?

it.

Vro.

Cli.

Most sweet lady

A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said of Where lies your text?

Oli. In his bosom? In what chapter of his bosom?

?

To answer by the method, in the first of his heart. Oh, I have read it, it is heresy. Have you no more

Good madam, let me see your face.

Have you any commission from your lord to negotith my face? You are now out of your text; but we aw the curtain, and show you the picture. Look you, ch a one as I does this present.

[Unveiling. . "Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white re's own sweet and cunning hand laid on : , you are the cruel'st she alive,

u will lead these graces to the grave,

leave the world no copy.

i. Oh, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted.

io. My lord and master loves you; oh, such love ld be but recompensed, though you were crowned nonpareil of beauty!

li. How does he love me?

io. With adorations, with fertile tears,

th groans that that thunder love, wite sighs of fire. li. Your lord does know my mind; I cannot love him: might have took his answer long ago.

Vio. If I did love you in my master's flame,

th such a suffering, such a deadly life, your denial I would find no sense,

would not understand it.

Oli. Why, what would you?

Vio. Make me a willow cabin at your gate,
nd call upon my soul within the house;
Write loyal cantons of contemned love,
nd sing them loud even in the dead of night;
Holla your name to the reverberate hills,
And make the babbling gossip of the air
Cry out, Olivia! Oh, you should not rest
Between the elements of air and earth,
But should you pity me.

Oli. You might do much :-what is your parentage?
Vio. Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:

I am a gentleman.

Oh. Get you to your lord;

I cannot love him: let him send no more

Unless, perchance, you come to me again,
To tell me how he takes it. Fare
you well;
I thank you for your pains :-spend this for me.
Vio. I am no fee'd post, lady; keep your purse;
My master, not myself, lacks recompense.
Love make his heart of flint, that you shall love ;
And let your fervour, like my master's, be
Placed in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty.
Oli. What is your parentage?

'Above my fortunes, yet my state is well :

I am a gentleman.'-I'll be sworn thou art;

Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit,

[Exit, L.

Do give thee five-fold blazon :-Not too fast :-soft! soft!
Unless the master were the man. How now?

Even so quickly may one catch the plague;
Methinks I feel this youth's perfections,

With an invisible and subtle stealth,

To creep in at mine eyes.

What ho, Malvolio !—

Well, let it be.

Enter MALVOLIO, L.

Mal Here, madam, at your service.

Oli. Run after the same peevish messenger,
Orsino's man he left his ring behind him :
Would I, or not; tell him, I'll none of it.
Desire him not to flatter with his lord,
Nor hold him up with hopes; I am not for him :
If that the youth will come this way to-morrow,
I'll give him reasons for't. Hie thee, Malvolio.
Mal. Madam, I will.

Oli. I do I know not what; and fear to find
Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind.
Fate, show thy force; ourselves we do not owe;
What is decreed, must be; and be this so !

Exit, L.

SCENE VI-A street before Olivia's House.

[Exit, R.

Enter VIOLA, and MALVOLIO following, L. U. E.

Mal Sir, sir-young gentleman-were not you even now with the Countess Olivia?

Vio. Even now,

sir.

Mul. She returus this ring to you, sir; you might have

my pains, to have taken it away yourself. She eover, that you should put your lord into a desperance she will none of him; and one thing more: never be so hardy to come again in affairs, unless eport your lord's taking of this. Receive it so. he took the ring of me ?-I'll none of it. Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her; and her should be so returned. (Throws the ring on the If it be worth stooping for, there it lies in your ot, be it his that finds it.

Takes up the ring.) means this lady?

[Exit, L. S. E. I left no ring with her : what

forbid, my outside have not charmed her!
de good view of me; indeed, so much,
are, methought her eyes had lost her tongue,
did speak in starts distractedly.

es me, sure; the cunning of her passion
me in this churlish messenger.

f my lord's ring !—why, he sent her none.
ne man ;-if it be so, as 'tis,

ady! she were better love a dream.
will become of this? As I am man,
ate is desperate for my master's love;
am woman-now, alas the day!--
thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe!
me, thou must untangle this, not I
oo hard a kuct for me to untie.

END OF ACT I.

[Exit, R.

ACT II.

SCENE I-A Seaport.

Enter SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO, L.

Int. Will you stay no longer? nor will you not that I go you?

Seb. By your patience, no: my stars shine darkly over the malignancy of my fate might, perhaps distemper ars: therefore I shall crave of you your leave, that I may