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 wished to see thee ever cross-gartered. I say, remember. Go to, thou art made, if thou desirest to be so if not, let me see thee a steward still, the fellow of servants, and not worthy to touch fortune's fingers. Farewell! She that would alter services with thee, the fortunate unhappy. Day-light and champian discovers not more: this is open. I will be proud; Į will read politic 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 imagina tion 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-gartered; 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-gartered, 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 smiling; thy smiles become thee well. Therefore, in my presence still smile, dear my sweet, I prythee.-Jove, I thank thee! I will smile; I will do every thing that thou wilt have me. [Exit.

Omines. Ha ha! ha!"

Fab. I will not give my part of this sport for a pension of thousands, to be paid from the Sophi. Sir T. I could marry this wench for this device. Sir A. So'could I too.

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

Enter MARIA.

Sir A. Nor I either.

Fab. Here comes my noble gull-catcher.

Sir T. Wilt thou set thy foot o' my neck?
Sir A. Or o' mine either?

Sir T. Shall I become thy bond-slave?
Sir A. I'faith, or I either.

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

1

Maria. Nay, but say true; does it work upon him?

Sir T. Like aqua vitæ with a midwife.

16 317

Maria. If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark his first approach before my lady: he will come to her in yellow stockings, and it is a colour she abhors; and cross-gartered, a fashion 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 T. To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit!

Sir A. I'll make one too.

Enter VIOLA and CLOWN.

[Exeunt.

Viola. Save thee, friend, and thy music. Dost

thou live by the tabor?

Clown. No, sir, I live by the church.

Viola, Art thou a churchman?

६

Clown. 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.

Viola. Art thou not the Lady Olivia's fool?

Clown. 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 pilchards are to

herrings; the husband's the bigger: I am, indeed, not her fool, but her corrupter of words.

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

Clown. 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.

Viola. Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee. Hold, there's expenses for thee. [Gives Money. Clown. Now, Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send thee a beard!

Viola. Is thy lady within?

Clown. Would not a pair of these have bred, sir? Viola. Yes, being kept together, and put to use. Clown. I would play Lord Pandarus, of Phrygia, sir, to bring a Cressida to this Troilus.

Viola. I understand you, sir; 'tis well begged.

Clown. 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 [Exit. Viola. This fellow is wise enough to play the fool; And, to do that well, craves a kind of wit.

Overworn.

Enter SIR TOBY BELCH and SIR ANDREW
AGUE-CHEFk.

Sir A. Save you, gentleman.

Viola. And you, sir.

Sir T. Dieu vous garde, monsieur.

Viola. Et vous aussi; votre serviteur.

Sir T. My niece is desirous you should enter, if your trade be to her.

Viola. I am bound to your niece, sir; I mean, she is the list of my voyage.

Sir T. Taste your legs, sir; put them to motion. Viola. My legs do better understand me, sir, than I understand what you mean by bidding me taste my legs.

Sir T. I mean, to go, sir; to enter.

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

Enter OLIVIA.

Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain odours on you!

Sir A. That youth's a rare courtier! Rain odours! well.

Viola. My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your own most pregnant and vouchsafed ear.

Sir A. Odours, pregnant, and vouchsafed!-I'll, get them all three ready.

[Exit. Oliv. Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing. [Exit SIR TOBY.] Give me your hand,

sir.

"

Viola. My duty, madam, and most humble service.

Oliv. What is your name?

Viola. Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess. Oliv. My servant, sir! "Twas never merry world, Since lowly feigning was called compliment: You are servant to the Duke Orsino, youth. Viola. And he is yours, and his must needs be

yours:

Your servant's servant is your servant, madam.

Oliv. For him, I think not on him: for his thoughts, 'Would they were blanks, rather than fill'd with me! Viola. Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts

On his behalf

Oliv. Oh, by your leave, I pray you ;I bade you never speak again of him: But would you undertake another suit,

I had rather hear you to solicit that,
Than music from the spheres.

Viola. Oh, dearest lady

Oliv. Give me leave, I beseech you: I did send,
After the last enchantment, (you did hear)
A ring in chase of you. So did I abuse
Myself, my servant, and, I fear me, you;
Under your hard construction must I sit,
To force that on you, in a shameful cunning,
Which you knew none of yours. What might you
think?

Have you not set mine honour at the stake,

And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts

That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiving

Enough is shown; a cyprus, not a bosom,

Hides my poor heart:-So let me hear you speak.
Viola. I pity you,

Oliv. That's a degree to love.

Viola. No, not a grice; for 'tis a vulgar proof,

That very oft we pity enemies.

Oliv. Why, then, methinks, 'tis time to smile

again.

[Clock strikes.
The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.
Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you :
And yet, when wit and youth are come to harvest,
Your wife is like to reap a proper man:
There lies your way, due west.

Viola. Then westward, hoe!

Grace, and good disposition, attend your ladyship!
You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?

Oliv. Stay! I pr'ythee tell me what thou think'st
of me?

Viola. That you do think, you are not what you

are.

Oliv. If I think so, I think the same of you.

Viola. Then think you right; I am not what I am.
Oliv. I would you were, as I would have you be!