Viola. Would it be better, madam, than I am?
Oliv. Cesario, by the roses of the spring,
By maidhood, honour, truth, and every thing,
I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride,
Nor wit, nor reason, can my passion hide.
Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,
For, that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause;
But, rather reason thus with reason fetter;
Love sought is good; but given, unsought, is better.
Viola. By innocence I swear, and by my youth,
I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth,
And that no woman has; nor never none
Shall mistress be of it.

And so adieu, good madam; never more
Will I my master's tears to you deplore.

Oliv. Yet come again; for thou, perhaps, may'st

move

That heart, which now abhors to like his love.

[Exeunt:

SCENE 11.

An Apartment in OLIVIA's House.

Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK, and FABIAN.

Sir A. No, 'faith, I'll not stay a jot longer. Sir T. Thy reason, dear venom, give thy reason. Fab. You must needs yield your reason, Sir Andrew.

Sir A. Marry, I saw your niece do more favours to the Duke's serving-man, than ever she bestowed on me, I saw't, i' the orchard.

Sir T. Did she see thee the while, old boy, tell me that?

Sir A. As plain as I see you now.

Fab. This was a great argument of love in her towards you.

Sir A. 'Slight! will you make an ass o' me?

Fab. I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of judgment and reason.

Sir T. And they have been grand jurymen, since before Noah was a sailor.

Fab. She did show favour to the youth in your sight, only to exasperate you, to awaken your dor- ́ mouse valour, to put fire in your heart, and brimstone in your liver. You should then have accosted her; and, with some excellent jests, fire new from the mint, you should have banged the youth into dumbness. This was looked for at your hand, and this was baulked. The double gilt of this opportunity you let time wash off, and you are now sailed into the north of my lady's opinion, where you will hang like an icicle on a Dutchman's beard, unless you do redeem it by some laudable attempt, either of valour or policy.

Sir A. And't be any way, it must be with valour; for policy I hate. I had as lief be a Brownist as a politician.

Sir T. Why, then, build me thy fortunes upon the basis of valour. Challenge me the Duke's youth to fight with him; hurt him in eleven places; my niece shall take note of it: and assure thyself, there is no love-broker in the world can more prevail in man's commendation with women, than report of valour.

Fab. There is no way but this, Sir Andrew.

Sir A. Will either of you bear me a challenge to

him?

Sir T. Go, write it in a martial hand; be curst and brief: it is no matter how witty, so it be eloquent,

and full of invention; taunt him with the license of ink: if thou thou'st him some thrice, it shall not be amiss; and as many lies as will lie in thy sheet of paper, although the sheet were big enough for the bed of Ware, in England; set them down-go about it. Let there be gall enough in thy ink; though thou write with a goose pen, no matter:-About it.

Sir A. Where shall I find you?

Sir T. We'll call thee at the cubiculo ;-Go.

[Exit SIR ANDREW. Fab. This is a dear Maniken to you, Sir Toby! Sir T. I have been dear to him, lad; some two thousand strong or so.

Fab. We shall have a rare letter from him; but you'll not deliver't?

Sir T. Never trust me then; and by all means stir on the youth to an answer. I think oxen and wainropes cannot hale them together. For Andrew, if he were opened, and you find so much blood in his liver, as will clog the foot of a flea, I'll eat the rest of the anatomy.

Fab. And his opposite, the youth, bears in his visage no great presage of cruelty.

Sir T. Look, where the youngest wren of nine

comes.

Enter MARIA.

Maria. If you desire the spleen, and will laugh ourselves into stitches, follow me: yon gull, Malvolio, is turned heathen, a very renegado! for there is no christian, that means to be saved by believing rightly, can ever believe such impossible passages of grossness!-He's in yellow stockings!

Sir T. And cross-gartered?

Maria. Most villanously! like a pedant, that keeps a school i' the church-I have dogged him like his

murderer. He does obey every point of the letter, that I dropped to betray him. He does smile his face into more lines, than is in the new map, with the augmentation of the Indies: you have not seen such a thing as 'tis; I can hardly forbear hurling things at him. I know, my lady will strike him; if she do, he'll smile, and take't for a great favour.

Sir T. Come, bring us, bring us where he is.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

The Street.

Enter SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO.

Seb. I would not, by my will, have troubled you;'
But, since you make your pleasure of your pains,
I will no further chide you.

Ant. I could not stay behind you; my desire,
More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth; ·
And not all love to see you, (though so much
As might have drawn one to a longer voyage)
But jealousy what might befall your travel,
Being skilless in these parts; which to a stranger,
Unguided, and unfriended, often prove"
Rough and unhospitable. My 'willing love,"
The rather by these arguments of fear,
Set forth in your pursuit.'

Seb. My kind Antonio,

I can no other answer make, but thanks :
You should find better dealing. What's to do?
Shall we go see the reliques of this town?

I

Ant. To-morrow, sir; best, first, go see your lodg ing.

Seb, I am not weary, and 'tis long to night;
pray you, let us satisfy our eyes

With the memorials, and the things of fame,
That do renown this city.

Ant. 'Would, you'd pardon me!

I do not, without danger, walk these streets.
Once, in the sea-fight, 'gainst the duke his gallies,
I did some service; of such note, indeed,

That, were I ta'en here, it would scarce be answer'd.
Seb. Do not then walk too open.

Ant. It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here's my

purse:

In the south suburbs, at the Elephant,

Is best to lodge: I will bespeak our diet,

Whiles you beguile your time, and feed your knowledge,

With viewing of the town; there shall you have me. Seb. Why I your purse?

Ant. Happily, your eye shall light upon some toy You have desire to purchase; and your store,. I think, is not for idle markets, sir.

Seb. I'll be your purse-bearer, and leave you for An hour.

Ant. To the Elephant.
Seb. I do remember.

[Exeunt.