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parish top. What, wench? Castiliano vulgo; for here comes sir Andrew Ague-face.

Enter Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK.

Sir And. Sir Toby Belch! how now, sir Toby Belch? Sir To. Sweet sir Andrew!

Sir And. Bless you, fair shrew.

Mar. And you too, sir.

Sir To. Accost, sir Andrew, accost.
Sir And. What's that?

Sir To. My niece's chambermaid.

Sir And. Good mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance.

Mar. My name is Mary, sir.

Sir And. Good mistress Mary Accost,

Sir To. You mistake, knight: accost is, front her, board her, woo her, assail her.

Sir And. By my troth I would not undertake her in this company. Is that the meaning of accost? Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen.

Sir To. An thou let part so, sir Andrew, 'would thou might'st never draw sword again.

Sir And. An you part so, mistress, I would I might never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think you have fools in hand?

Mar. Sir, I have not you by the hand.

Sir And. Marry, but you shall have; and here's my hand.

Mar. Now, sir, thought is free: I pray you bring your hand to the buttery-bar, and let it drink.

Sir And. Wherefore, sweet heart? what's your metaphor?

Mar. It's dry, sir.

Sir And. Why, I think so; I am not such an ass, but I can keep my hand dry. But what's your jest? Mar. A dry jest, sir!

Sir And. Are you full of them?

Mar. Ay, sir; I have them at my fingers ends; marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren. [Exit. Sir To. O knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary: When did I see thee so put down?

Sir And. Never in your life, I think; unless you see canary put me down: Methinks, sometimes I have no more wit than a Christian, or an ordinary man has: but I am a great eater of beef, and, I believe, that does harm to my wit.

Sir To. No question.

Sir And. An I thought that, I'd forswear it. I'll ride home 10-morrow, sir Toby.

Sir To. Pourquoy, my dear knight?

Sir And. What is pourquoy ? do, or not do? I wonld I had bestowed that time in the tongues, that I have in fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting: o, had l bnt fol. low'd the arts!

Sir To. Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair.

Sir And. Why, would that have mended my hair?

Sir To. Past question; for thou seest it will not curl by nature. Sir And. But it becomes me well enough, does't not?

Sir To. Excellent; it hangs like flax on a distaff; and I hope to see a housewife take thee between her legs, and spin it off.

Sir And. 'Faith, I'll home to morrow, sir Toby: your niece will not be seen; or, if she be, it's four to one she'll none of me: the count himself, here hard by, wooes her.

Sir To. She'll none o'the count; she'll not match above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; I have heard her swear it. Tut, there's life in't, man.

Sir And. I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o'the strangest mind i'the world; I delight in masques and revels sometimes altogether. Sir To. Art thou good at these kickshaws, knight?

Sir And. As any man in Illyria, whatsoever be be, under the degree of my betters: and yet I will not compare with an old man.

Sir To. What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight?
Sir And. 'Faith, can cut a caper.
Sir To. And I can cut the mutton to't.

Sir And. And, I think, I have the back-trick, simply as strong as any man ria.

Sir To. Wherefore are these things hid? wherefore have these gifts a curtain before them? are they like to take dust, like mistress Mall's picture? why dost thon not go to church in a galliard, and come home in a coranto? My very walk should be a jig; I would not 80 mach as make water, but in a sink-a-pace. What dost thou mean? Is it a world to hide virtues in? I did think, by the excellent constitution of thy leg, it was form'd under the star of a galliard.

Sir And. Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent well in a flame.colour'd stock. Shall we set about some revels!

Sir To. What shall we do else? were we not born ander Taurus ?

Sir And. Taurus ? that's sides and heart.

Sir To. No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let me see thee caper: ha! higher: ha, ha! excellent. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV. A Room in the DUKE'S Palace. Enter VALENTINE, and VIOLA in man's attire.

Val. If the duke continue these favours towards you, Cessario, you are like to be much advanced; he hath known you but three days, and already you are no stranger.

Vio. You either fear his hamonr, or my negligence,
that you call in question the continuance of his love :
Is he inconstant, sir, in his favours?
Val. No, believe me.

Enter DUKE, CURIO, and Attendants.
Vio. I thank you. Here comes the count.
Duke. Who saw Cesario, hu?
Vio. On your attendance, my lord; here.
Duke. Stand you awhile aloof.--Cesario,
Thou know'st no less but all; I have unclasp'd
To thee the book ev'n of my secret soul:
Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her;
Be not deny'd access, stand at her doors,
And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow,
Till thou have audience.

Vio. Sure, my noble lord,
If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow
As it is spoke, she never will admit me.

Duke. Be clamorous, and leap all civil bounds,
Rather than make unprofited return.

Vio, Say, I do speak with her, my lord; What then?
Duke. O, then unfold tbe passion of my love,
Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith :
It shall become thee well to act my woes;
She will attend it better in thy youth,
Than in a puncio of more grave aspect.

Vio. I think not so, my lord.

Duke. Dear lad, believe it;
For they shall yet belie thy happy years,
That say, thou 'art a man: Diana's lip
Is not more smooth, and rabious; thy small pipe
Is as the maiden's organ, shrill and sound,
And all is semblative a woman's part.

.

I know, thy constellation is right apt
For this affair: Some four, or five, attend bim;
All, if yon will; for I myself am best,
When least in company :-Prosper well in this,
And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord,
To call his fortunes thine.

Vio. I'll do my best,
To woo your lady: yet, [Aside) a barrful strife!
Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife. (Ezcunt.
SCENE V. A Room in OLIVIA's House.

Enter MARIA and CLOWN. Mar. Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will not open my lips 80 wide as a bristle may enter, in way of thy excuse : my lady will haog thee for thy absence.

Clo. Let her hang me: he, that is well hang'd in this world, needs to fear no colonrg.

Mar. Make that good.
Clo. He shall see none to fear.

Mar. A good lenten answer: I can tell thee wbere that saying was born, of, I fear no colours.

Clo. Where, good mistress Mary?

Mar. In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in your foolery.

Clo. Well, God give them wisdom, that have it; and those that are fools, let them use their talents.

Mar. Yet you will be hang'd for being so long ab sent: or, to be turu'd away; is not that as good as a hanging to you?

Clo. Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage; and, for turning away, let summer bear it out.

Mar. You are resolate then?
Clo. Not so neither; but I am resolv'd on two points.

Mar. That, if one break, the other will hold; or, if both break, yonr gaskins fall.

Clo. Apt, in good faith : very apt! Well, go thy way, if sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as wity a piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria.

Mar. Peace, you rogue, no more o'that; here comes my lady: make your excuse wisely, you were best.

[Erit. Enter OLIVIA and MALVOLIA. Clo. Wit, and't be thy will, put me into good fooling! Those wits, that think ihey have thee, do very oft prove fools; and I, that am sure I lack thee, may pass for å wise man: For what says Quinapalus? Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit. God bless thee, lady!

Oli. Take the fool away.
Clo. Do you not bear, fellows? Take away the lady.

Oli. Go io, you're a dry fool; I'll no more of you: besides, you grow dishonest.

Clo. Two faults, Madonna, that drink and good conn. sel will amend: for give the dry fool drink, then is the fool not dry; bid the dishonest man mend himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if he cannot, let the botcher mend him: Any thing, that's mended, is bat patch'd: virtue, that transgresses, is but patch'd with sin; and sin, that amends, is but patch'd with virtne: If that this simple syllogism will serve, so; if it will not, What remedy? As there is no true cuckold but calamity, so beauty's a flower :the lady bade take away the fool; therefore, I say again, take her away.

Oli. Sir, I bade tbem take away you.

Clo. Misprision in the highest degree!-Lady, Cucullus non facit monachum; that's as much as to say,

I wear not motley in my brain. Good Madonna, give me leave to prove you a fool.

Oli. Can you do it?
Clo. Dexterously, good Madonna.
Oli. Make your proof.

Clo. I must catechize you for it, Madonna; Good my mouse of virtue, answer me.

Oli. Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I'll bide your proof.

Clo. Good Madonna, why mourn'st thou ?
Oli. Good fool, for my brother's death,
Clo. I think, his soul is in hell, Madonna.
Oli. I know his soul is in heaven, fool.

Clo. The more fool you, Madonna, to mourn for your brother's soul being in heaven. -Take away the fool, gentlemen.

Oli. What think you of this fool, Malvolio? doth he not mend?

Mal. Yes; and shall do, till the pangs of death shake him-: Infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever make the better fool.

Clo. God send you, sir, a speedly infirmity, for the better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will be sworn, that I am no fox; but he will not pass his word for twopence that you are no fool.

Oli. How say you to that, Malvolio?

Mal. I marvel your Jadyship takes delight in such a barren rascal; I saw him put down the other day with

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