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What will you do? Now my necessity

Makes me to ask you for my purse: it grieves me

Much more, for what I cannot do for you,

Than what befalls myself. You stand amaz’d;
But be of comfort.

2 Off. Come, sir, away.

Ant. I must entreat of you some of that money. Vio. What money, sir?

For the fair kindness you have shew'd me here,
And, part, being prompted by your present trouble,
Out of my lean and low ability

I'll lend you something. My having is not much;
I'll make division of my present with you:
Hold, there's half my coffer.

Ant.

Is 't possible that my

Can lack persuasion?

Will you deny me now?

deserts to you

Do not tempt my misery,

Lest that it make me so unsound a man
As to upbraid you with those kindnesses
That I have done for you.

I know of none;

Vio.
Nor know I you by voice, or any feature :
I hate ingratitude more in a man
Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness,
Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption
Inhabits our frail blood.

Ant.

O Heavens themselves!

2 Off. Come, sir, I pray you, go.

Ant. Let me speak a little. This youth that you

see here,

I snatch'd one half out of the jaws of death;
Reliev'd him with such sanctity of love,

And to his image, which methought did promise
Most venerable worth, did I devotion.

1 Off. What's that to us? the time goes by; away.

Ant. But, O, how vile an idol proves this god! Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame. In nature there's no blemish but the mind; None can be call'd deform'd but the unkind. Virtue is beauty; but the beauteous evil Are empty trunks, o'erflourish'd by the Devil. 1 Off. The man grows mad; away with him. Come, come, sir.

Ant. Lead me on.

[Exeunt Officers with ANT. Vio. Methinks, his words do from such passion fly, That he believes himself; so do not I.

Prove true, imagination, O, prove true,

That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you!

Sir To. Come hither, Knight; come hither, Fabian; we'll whisper o'er a couplet or two of most sage saws.

Vio. He nam'd Sebastian; I my brother know Yet living in my glass; even such, and so, In favour was my brother, and he went Still in this fashion, colour, ornament, For him I imitate. O, if it prove,

Tempests are kind, and salt waves fresh in love! [Exit. Sir To. A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward than a hare: his dishonesty appears in leaving his friend here in necessity, and denying him; and for his cowardship ask Fabian.

Fab. A coward, a most devout coward, religious in it.

Sir And.

'Slid, I'll after him again, and beat him.

Sir To. Do, cuff him soundly, but never draw thy sword.

Sir And.

An I do not,

[Exit.

Fab. Come, let's see the event.

Sir To. I dare lay any money 'twill be nothing yet.

N2

[Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. The Street before OLIVIA's House.

Enter SEBASTIAN and Clown.

CLOWN.

WILL you make me believe that I am not sent

for you?

Seb. Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow; let me be clear of thee.

Clo. Well held out, i̇' faith! No, I do not know you; nor I am not sent to you by my lady, to bid you come speak with her; nor your name is not Master Cesario; nor this is not my nose neither. Nothing that is so, is so.

Seb. I pr'ythee vent thy folly somewhere else: Thou know'st not me.

Clo. Vent my folly! he has heard that word of some great man, and now applies it to a Fool. Vent my folly! I am afraid this great lubberly word will prove a cockney. — I pr'ythee now, ungird thy strangeness, and tell me what I shall vent to my lady; shall I vent to her that thou art coming?

Seb. I pr'ythee, foolish Greek, depart from me; There's money for thee; if you tarry longer

I shall give worse payment.

Clo. By my troth, thou hast an open hand: these wise men that give fools money get themselves a good report after fourteen years' purchase.

Enter Sir ANDREW, Sir TOBY, and FABIAN.

Sir And. Now, sir, have I met you again? there's [Striking SEBASTIAN.

for you.

Seb. Why, there's for thee, and there, and there: Are all the people mad?

[Beating Sir ANDREW with his sword. Sir To. Hold, sir, or I'll throw your dagger o'er the house.

Clo. This will I tell my lady straight: I would not be in some of your coats for twopence.

[Exit.

Sir To. Come on, sir; hold. [Holding SEBASTIAN. Sir And. Nay, let him alone, I'll go another way to work with him; I'll have an action of battery against him, if there be any law in Illyria; though I struck him first, yet it's no matter for that. Seb. Let go thy hand.

Sir To. Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier, put up your iron: you are well flesh'd; come on.

Seb. I will be free from thee. What would'st thou now?

If thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword. Sir To. What, what? Nay, then I must have an ounce or two of this malapert blood from you. [Draws.

Enter OLIVIA.

Oli. Hold, Toby; on thy life, I charge thee, hold. Sir To. Madam?

Oli. Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch, Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves, Where manners ne'er were preach'd! out of my sight! Be not offended, dear Cesario!

Rudesby, begone! I pr'ythee, gentle friend,

[Exeunt Sir TOBY, Sir ANDREW, and FABIAN. Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway In this uncivil and unjust extent

Against thy peace. Go with me to my house;
And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks

This ruffian hath botch'd up, that thou thereby May'st smile at this: thou shalt not choose but go: Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me,

He started one poor heart of mine in thee.

Seb. What relish is in this? how runs the stream? Or I am mad, or else this is a dream: Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep; If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!

Oli. Nay, come, I pr'ythee. 'Would thou'dst be rul'd by me!

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Mar. Nay, I pr'ythee put on this gown, and this beard: make him believe thou art Sir Topas the curate: do it quickly: I'll call Sir Toby the whilst. [Exit MARIA.

Clo. Well, I'll put it on, and I will dissemble myself in 't; and I would I were the first that ever dissembled in such a gown. I am not tall enough to become the function well, nor lean enough to be thought a good student; but to be said, an honest man, and a good housekeeper, goes as fairly, as to say, a careful man, and a great scholar. The competitors enter.

Enter Sir TOBY BELCH and MARIA.

Sir To.

Clo.

Jove bless thee, Master Parson.
Bonos dies, Sir Toby: for as the old hermit

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