Page images

Sir To Here's an over-weening rogue! * Fab. O, peace! Contemplation' makes a rare turkey-cock of him; how he jets under his advanced plumes !

Sir And. 'Slight, I could so beat the rogue : Sir To Peace, I say.

ini merr : Mal. To be count Malvolio:

Sir To. Ah, rogue!
Sir And. Pistol him, pistol him.
Sir To. Peace, peace.

Mal. There is example for’t; the lady of the strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe.

Sir And. Fie on him, Jezebel!

Fab. O, peace! now he's deeply in; look, how imagination blows him.

Mal. Ilaving been three months married to her, sitting in my state,

Sir To. O for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye!

Mal. Calling my officers about me, in my branch'd velvet gown; having come from a daybed, where I have left Olivia sleeping: Sir To. Fire and brimstone!

, Fab. O peace, peace!

Mal. And then to have the humour of state : and after a demure travel of regard, telling them, I know my place, as I would they should do theirs, to ask for my kinsman Toby:

Sir To. Bolts and shackels! Fab. O, peace, peace, peace! now, now.

Mal. Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for him: 'I frown the while; and, perchance, wind up my watch, or play with my some rich jewel: Toby approachess court'sies there to me:

Sir To. Shall this fellow live?


Fab. Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace. Mal. I extend my hand to him thus, quench.

I ing my familiar smile with an austere regard of control:

Sir To. And does not Toby take you a blow o'the lips then?

Mal.' Saying, Cousin Toby, my fortunes have ing cast me on your niece give me this prerogative of speech ;

Sir To. What, what?
Mah. You must amend your drunkennefs.
Sir To. Out, scab!

Fab. Nay, patience, or we break the sinewo of our plot.

Mal. Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish knight ; Sir And.

That's me, I warrant you. Mal. One Sir Andrew : Sir And. I knew, 'twas I; for many do call


me fool.

Mal. What employment have we here?

(taking up the letter.] Fab. Now is the woodcock near the gin.

Sir To. O, peace and the spirit of humours intimate reading aloud to him !

Mal. By my life, this is my lady's hand; these be her very C's, her U's, and her T's; and thus makes she her great P's. It is, in contempt of question, her hand. Sir And. Her C's, her U's and her T's. Why

, that?

Mal. [reads.] To the unknown beloved, this, and my good wishes : her very phrases ! - By your leave, wax.

Soft; and the impressure her Lucrece, with which she uses to seal: ''tis my lady: To whom should this be?

Fab. This wins him, liver and all.


let me see,

[ocr errors]

ii. Mal. [reads.] Jove knows, I love;

But who?
Lips do not move,

No man must know. No man must know. What follows ? the numbers alter'd! No man must know: if this should be thee, Malvolio?

Sir To. Marry, hang thee, brock!
Mal. In may command, where I adore :

But silence, like a Lucrece knife,
With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore;

M, 0, A, I, doth sway my life.
Fab. A fustian riddle!
Sir To. Excellent wench, say, I.

Mal M, 0, A, I, doth sway my life. Nay, but first, let me see,

let me see. Fab. What a dish of poison has she dress'd him !

Sir To. And with what wing the stannyel checks at it!

Mal. I I may command where I adore. Why, she may command me; I serve her, she is my lady. Why, this is evident to any formal capa. city. There is no obstruction in this ;--- And the end; — What should that alphabetical position portend ? if I could make that resemble something

Softly; . M, 0, A, I. Sir To. O, ay! make up

that: he is now at a cold scent.

Fab. Sowter will cry upon't, for all this, though it be as rank as a fox. Mal. M, Malvolio; M,

why, that be gins my name.

Fab. Did not I say, he would work it out? the cur is excellent at; faults. Mal. M,

But then there is no consonancy in the sequel; that suffers under probation: A should fellow, but O does.


in me,

Fab. And 0 shall end, I hope.
Sir To. Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make him

[ocr errors]

cry, O.

[ocr errors]

Mal. And then I comes behind.

Fab. Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you might see more detraction at your heels, than fortunes before you. Mal. M, 0, 4, I;

This simulation is not as the former : and yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of these letters is in my name.

Soft; here follows prose. If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I am above thee; but be not afraid of greatness; Some are born great, some atchieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them. Thy fates open their hands; let thy blood and spirit embrace them. And, to inure thyself to what thou art like to be, cast thy humble slough, and appear fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants : let thy tongue tang arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of singularity: She thus advises thee, that sighs for thee. Remember who commended thy yellow stockings; and wish'd to see thee ever cross-garter'd: I say, remember. Go to; thou art made, if thou desirest to be so; if not, let me sec thee a steward still, the fellow of servants, and not worthy to touch fortune's fingers. Farewel. She, that would alter services with thee,

The fortunate - unhappy. Day-light and champian discovers not more: this is open. I will be proud, I will read politick authors, I will baffle sir Toby, I will wash off gross acquaintance, I will be point-de-vice the very man. I do not now fool myself, to let ima. gination jade me; for every reason excites to this, that my lady loves me. She did commend my yellow stockings of late, she did praise my leg being cross • garter'd; and in this she manifests Vol.iit.


[ocr errors]

in thy

herself to my love, and, 'with a kind of injunc. tion, 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 choose but know who I am. If thou entertainest my love, let it appear smiling; thy smiles become thee well: therefore in my presence still smile, dear my sweet, I pr’yo thee. 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 too.

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

Enter MARIA.

Sir And. Nor I neither.
Fab. Here comes my noble gull- catcher.
Sir To. Wilt thou set thy foot o'my neck ?
Sir And. Or o'mnine either?

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

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 - vitae with a midwife.
Mar. If you will then see the fruits of the

« PreviousContinue »