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may pass for a wise man. For what, says Quinapalus? Better be a witty fool, than a foolish wit.

Enter Olivia and Malvolio. Bless thee, lady!

Oliv. Take the fool away.

Clown. Do you not hear, fellows ? take away the lady.

Oliv. Go to, you're a dry fool; I'll no more of you ; besides, you grow dishonest.

Clown. Two faults, Madona, that drink and good counsel 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 but patched : virtue, that transgresses, is but patched with sin; and sin, that amends, is but patched with virtue. The lady bade take away the fool, therefore, I say again, take her away.

Oliv. Sir, I bade them take away you.

Clown. 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 Madona, give me leave to prove you a fool,

Oliv. Can you do it?
Clown. Dexterously, good Madona.
Oliv. Make your proof.

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

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

Clown. Good Madona, why mourn'st thou?
Oliv. Good fool, for my brother's death.
Clown. I think his soul is in hell, Madona.
Oliv. I know his soul is in Heaven, fool.

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

Oliv. 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 better the fool.

Clown. Heaven send you, sir, a speedy 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 two-pence, that you are no fool.

Oliv. How say you to that, Malvolio?

Mal. I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such a barren rascal; I saw him put down the other day, with an ordinary fool, that has no more brain than a stone. Look you now, he's out of his guard already; unless you laugh and minister occasion to him, he is gagged. I protest, I take these wise men, that crow so at these kind of fools, no better than the fools' zanies.

Oliv. Oh, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste with a distempered appetite. To be generous, guiltless, and of free disposition, is to take those things for bird bolts that you deem cannon-bullets: There is no slander in an allowed fool, though he do nothing but rail ; nor no railling in a known discreet man, though he do nothing but reprove.

Clown. Now, Mercury, indue thee with leasing, for thou speak'st well of fools!

Enter MARIA. Maria. Madam, there is at the gate, a young gentleman much desires to speak with you.

Oliv. From the Duke Orsiņo, is it?

Maria. I know not, madam, 'tis a fair young man, and well attended.

Oliv. Who of my people hold him in delay?
Maria. Sir Toby, madam, your uncle.

Oliv. Fetch him off, I pray you, he speaks nothing but madman. [Exit MARIA.] Fie on him! Go you,

Malcolio; if it be a suit from the duke, I am sick, or not at home: What you will, to dismiss it. [Exit Malvolio.) Now you see, sir, how your fooling grows old, and people dislike it.

Clown. Thou hast spoke for us, Madona, as if thy eldest son should be a fool: whose scull Jove cram with brains, for here comes one of thy kin has a most weak pia mater!

Enter Sır TOBY.
Oliv. By mine honour, my uncle, half drunk.--
What is he at the gate, cousin ?

Sir T. A gentleman.
Olio. A gentleman? what gentleman ?
Sir T. 'Tis a gentleman here-How now, sot?
Clown. Good Sir Toby-

Oliv. Uncle, uncle, how have you come so early by this lethargy?

Sir T. Letchery! I defy letchery: there's one at

the gate.

Oliv. Ay, marry; what is he?

Sir T. Let him be the devil, and he will, I care not; give me faith, say I. Well, it's all one-A plague o'these pickled herrings !

[Exit. Oliv. What's a drunken man like, fool?

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

Oliv. Go thou and seek the coroner, and let him sit o'my cousin ; for he's in the third degree of drink he's drowned : go, look after him.

Clown. He is but mad yet, Madona; and the fool shall look to the madman.

[Exit Clown. Enter Malvolio. Mal. Madam, yond young fellow swears he will speak with you. I told him, you were sick; he takes on him to understand so much, and therefore comes

to speak with you. I told him you were asleep; he seems to have a foreknowledge of that too, and therefore comes to speak with you. What is to be said to him, lady? be's fortified against any denial.

Oliv. Tell him, he shall not speak with me.

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

Oliv. What kind o' man is he?
Mal. Why, of mankind.
Qlio, What manner of man?
Mal. Of very ill manners ; he'll speak with you,
will you or no.
Oliv. Of what personage,


is he? 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 : 'tis with him e’en standing water, between boy and man. He is very well favoured, and he speaks very shrewishly; one would think, his mother's milk were scarce out of him.

Olio. Let him approach : Call in my gentlewoman. Mal. Gentlewoman, my lady calls.

[Exit. Enter MARIA. Olio. Give me my veil: come, throw it o'er my

face; We'll once more hear Orsino's embassy,

Enter VIOLA. Viola. The honourable lady of the house, which is she?

Oliv. Speak to me, I shall answer for her: Your will ?

Viola. 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 east away my speech; for, besides that it is excellently


well penned, I have taken great pains to con it. Good beauties, let me sustain no scorn; I am very comptible, even to the least sinister usage.

Oliv. Whence came you, sir?

Viola. 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, that I may proceed in my speech.

Oliv. Are you a comedian?

Viola. No, my profound heart: and yet, by the very fangs of malice, I swear I am not that I play. Are

you the lady of the house?
Oliv. If I do not usurp myself, I am.

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

But this is from my commission. I will on with my speech in your praise, and then show you the heart of my message.

Oliv. Come to what is important in't: I forgive you the praise.

Viola. Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis poetical.

Oliv. It is the more like to be feigned. I pray, you, keep it in. I heard you were saucy at my gates ; and I 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 the moon with me, to make one in so skipping a dialogue. What are you? what would you !

Viola. The rudeness, that hath appear'd in me, have I learned from my entertainment. What I am, and what I would, are as sacred to your ears, as divinity; to any other's, profanation.

Oliv. Give us the place alone. [Exit MARIA.] We will hear this divinity. Now, sir, what is your text?

Viola. Most sweet lady,

Oliv. A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said of it. Where lies

your text?

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