And sing them loud, even in the dead of night;
Holloo your name to the reverberate hills,
And make the babling gossip of the air
Cry out, Olivia! Oh, you should not rest,
Between the elements of air and earth,
you should pity me.

But

Oliv. You might do much :

What is your parentage?

Viola. Above my fortunes, yet my state is well: I am a gentleman.

Oliv. Get you to your lord;

I cannot love him: let him send no more;
Unless, perchance, you come to me again,
To tell me how he takes it.

Fare you well:
I thank you for your pains: spend this for me.

[Offers Money. Viola. I am no feed post, lady: keep your purse: My master, not myself, lacks recompense.

Love makes his heart flint, that you shall love;
And let your fervour, like my master's, be
Plac'd in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty.
Oliv. What is your parentage?

"Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:
I am a gentleman."-

-I'll be sworn thou art.

[Exit.

Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit, Do give thee five-fold blazon:—Not too fast ;-soft!

soft!

Unless the master were man.-How now?
Even so quickly may one catch the plague?
Methinks, I feel this youth's perfections,
With an invisible and subtile stealth,

To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be-----
What, ho, Malvolio !

Enter MALVOLIO.

Mal. Here, madam, at your service.

Oliv. Run after that same peevish messenger, The duke's man; he left this ring behind him,

Would I, or not tell him, I'll none of it.
Desire him not to flatter with his lord,
Nor hold him up with hopes; I am not for him:
If that the youth will come this way to-morrow,
I'll give him reasons for't. Hie thee, Malvolio.
Mal. Madam, I will.

{Exit.

Oliv. I do, I know not what; and fear to find
Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind.
Fate, show thy force; ourselves we do not owe;
What is decreed, must be; and be this so!

[Exit.

ACT THE SECOND.

SCENE I.

The Street.

Enter ANTONIO and SEBASTIAN.

Ant. Will you stay no longer? nor will you not, that I go with you!

Seb. By your patience, no: my stars shine darkly over me; the malignancy of my fate might, perhaps, distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of you your leave, that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad recompense for your love, to lay any of them on you. Ant. Let me yet know of you, whither you are bound.

Seb. No, in sooth, sir; my determinate voyage is mere extravagancy. But I perceive in you so ex

cellent a touch of modesty, that you will not extort from me what I am willing to keep in; therefore it charges me in manners the rather to express myself: You must know of me then, Antonio, my name is Sebastian; which I called Roderigo: my father was that Sebastian of Messaline, whom, I know, you have heard of. He left behind him, myself, and a sister, both born in an hour; if the heavens had been pleased, 'would we had so ended! but you, sir, altered that; for, some hour before you took me from the breach of the sea, was my sister drowned.

Ant. Alas, the day!

Seb. A lady, sir, though it was said she much resembled me, was yet of many accounted beautiful: but though I could not, with such estimable wonder overfar believe that, yet thus far I will boldly publish her, she bore a mind that envy could not but call fair:

Ant. Pardon me, sir, your bad entertainment.

Seb. O good Antonio, forgive me your trouble. Ant. If you will not murder me for my love, let me be your servant.

Seb. If you will not undo what you have done, that is, kill him whom you have recovered, desire it not. Fare ye well at once; my bosom is full of kindness; and I am yet so near the manners of my mother, that upon the least occasion more, mine eyes I will tell tales of me. I am bound to the Duke OrsiFarewell. [Exeunt severally.

no's court.

Enter VIOLA and MALVOLIO.

Mal. Were not you e'en now with the Countess Olivia ?

Viola. Even now, sir; on a moderate pace I have since arrived but hither.

Mal. She returns this ring to you, sir; you might have saved me my pains, to have taken it away yourself. She adds moreover, that you should put your

D

lord into a desperate assurance, she will none of him: And one thing more: that you be never so hardy to come again in his affairs, unless it be to report your lord's taking of this. Receive it so.

Viola. She took the ring of me, I'll none of it.

:

Mal. Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her; and her will is, it should be so returned if it be worth stooping for, there it lies in your eye; if not, be it his that finds it. [Exit. Viola. I left no ring with her: What means this

lady?

Fortune forbid, my outside have not charm'd her!
She made good view of me; indeed, so much,

That, sure, methought her eyes had lost her tongue,
For she did speak in starts, distractedly.

She loves me, sure; the cunning of her passion
Invites me in this churlish messenger.

None of my lord's ring! why, he sent her none.
I am the man ;-if it be so, (as, 'tis ;)
Poor lady, she were better love a dream.
What will become of this? As I am man,
My state is desperate for my master's love;
As I am woman, (now, alas the day!)
What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe?
O time, thou must untangle this, not I;
It is too hard a knot for me t' untie.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

OLIVIA'S House.

SIR TOBY BELCH and SIR ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK discovered.

Sir T. Come, Sir Andrew: not to be a-bed after midnight, is to be up betimes; and Diluculo surgere, thou knowest,

Sir A. Nay, by my troth, I know not: but I know, to be up late, is to be up late.

Sir T. A false conclusion; I hate it, as an unfilled cann: To be up after midnight, and to go to bed then, is early: so that to go to bed after midnight, is to go to bed betimes. Does not our life consist of the four elements ?

Sir A. 'Faith, so they say; but, I think, it rather consists of eating and drinking.

Sir T. Thou art a scholar; let us therefore eat and drink-Maria! I say! -a stoop of wine! Sir A. Here comes the fool, i'faith!

Enter CLOWN.

Clown. How now, my hearts? Did you never see the picture of we three?

Sir T. Welcome, ass.

Sir A. By my troth, the fool has an excellent wit. I had rather than forty shillings I had such a leg as the fool has. In sooth, thou wast in very gracious fooling last night, when thou spokest of Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians passing the equinoctial of Queubus: 'twas very good, i'faith: I sent thee sixpence for thy leman; Hadst it?

Clown. I did impeticoat thy gratillity; for Malvolio's nose is no whip-stock. My lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses.

Sir A. Excellent! why, this is the best fooling, when all is done.

Sir T. Shall we rouse the night owl in a catch, that will draw three souls out of one weaver ? shall we do that?

Sir A. An you love me, let's do't: I am a dog at a catch.

Clown. By'r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch

well.

Sir A. Begin, fool; it begins, " Hold thy peace."