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Duke. How now, gentleman? how is't with you?

Sir To. That's all one, he has hurt me, and there's an end on't; sot, didst see Dick surgeon, sot?

Clo. O he's drunk, Sir Toby, above an hour agone;

his eyes were set at eight i'th' morning. Sir To. Then he's a rogue, and a past-measure Painim. I hate a drunken rogue.

Oli. Away with him: who hath made this havoc with them?

Sir And. I'll help you, Sir Toby, because we'll be dress'd together.

Sir To. Will you help an ass-head, and a coxcomb, and a knave, a thin-fac'd knave, a gull?

[Exeunt Clo. Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew. Oli. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to.

SC E N E

y. Enter Sebastian. Seb. I am sorry, Madam, I have hurt your kinsman: But had it been the brother of my blood, "I must have done no less with wit and safety.

[All stand in amaze. You throw a strange regard on me, by which I do perceive it hath offended you; Pardon me, sweet one, even for the vows We made each other but soʻlate ago. Duke. One face, one voice, one habit, and two

persons;
A nat'ral perspective, that is, and is not !

Seb. Antonio, O my dear Antonio!
How have the hours rack'd and tortur'd me
Since I have lost thee?

Ant. Sebastian are you?
Seb. Fear'ít thou that, Antonio !

Ant. How have you made division of yourself?
An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin
Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian?

Oli. Most wonderful !

Seb. Do I stand there? I never had a brother; Nor can there be that deity in my nature,

Of here and every where. I had a sister,
Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd:
Of charity, what kin are you to me?

[To Viola. What countryman? what name? what parentage ?

Vio. Of Meffaline; Sebastian was my father ;
Such a Sebastian was my brother too:
So went he suited to his wat’ry tomb.
If spirits can assume both form and suit,
You come to fright us.

Seb. A spirit I am, indeed;
But am in that dimension grossly clad,
Which from the womb I did participate.
Were you a woman, as the rest goes even,
I should my tears let fall upon your cheek,
And say, “Thrice welcome, drowned Viola !"

Vio. My father had a mole upon his brow.
Seb. And so had mine.

Vio. And dy'd that day, when Viola from her birth Had number'd thirteen years.

Seb. (), that record is lively in my soul;
He finished, indeed, his mortal act,
That day that made my sister thirteen years.

Vio. If nothing letts to make us happy both,
But this my masculine usurp'd attire,
Do not embrace me, 'till each circumstance
Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and jump,
That I am Viola; which to confirm,
I'll bring you to a captain in this town
Where ly my maids weeds; by whose gentle help
I was preserv'd † to serve this noble Duke.
All th' occurrence of my fortune since
Hath been between this lady and this lord.
Seb. So comes it, lady, you have been mistook;

[To Olivia. But nature to her bias drew in that. You would have been contracted to a maid, Nor are you therein, by my life, deceiv'd; You are betroth'd both to a maid, and man.

Duke. Be not amaz'd: right noble is his blood. If this be so, as yet the glass seems true,

+ I was preferr'd. Revisal. VOL. III.

G

I shall have share in this most happy wreck.
-Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times,

[To Viola, Thou never should’st love woman like to me.

Vio. And all those sayings will I over-swear;
And all those swearings keep as true in soul,
As doth that orbed continent the fire,
That severs day from night.

Duke. Give me thy hand,
And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds.

Vio. The captain that did bring me first on shore
Hath my maids garments: he upon some action
Is now in durance, at Malvolio's fuit,
A gentleman and follower of my Lady's.

Oli. He shall enlarge him: fetch Malvolio hither.
And yet, alas, now I remember me,
They say, poor gentleman ! he's much distract.

S CE N E VI.
Enter the Clown with a letter, and Fabian.
A most extracting frenzy of mine own,
From my remembrance clearly banish'd his.
How does he, sirrah?

Clo. Truly, Madam, he holds Beelzebub at the stave's end, as well as a man in his case

may h'as here writ a letter to you; I should have given't you to-day morning. But as a madman's epistles are no gospels, so it fkills not much when they are deliver'd.

Oli. Open't, and read it.

Clo. Look then to be well edify'd, when the fool delivers the madman-By the Lord, Madam

[Reads. Oli. How now, art mad?

Clo. No, Madam, I do but read madness: an your Ladyship will have it as it ought to be, you must allow vox *.

do :

Perhaps. we should read, “ you must allow for't," i. e. you must make the proper allowances for the core dition he is in. Revisal.

Oli. Prythee read it i' thy right wits.

Clo. So I do, Madona; but to read his right wits,
is to read thus : therefore perpend, my Princess,
and give ear.
Oli. Read it

you,
sirrah.

[T. Fabian. Fab. reads.] By the Lord, Madam, you wrong me, and the world mall know it: though you have put me into darkness, and given your drunken uncle rule over nie, yet have I the benefit of my senses as well as your Ladyship. I have your own letter, that induced me to the semblance I put 01; with the which I doubt not but to do myself much right, or you much Mame: think of me as you please. I leave my duty a little unthought of, and speak out of my injury.

The madly us'd Malvolio.
Oli. Did he write this?
Cli. Ay, Madam.
Duke. This favours not much of distraction.
Oli. See him deliver'd, Fabian;- bring him hither.
My Lord, so please you, these things further

-thought on,
To think me as well a sister as a wife;
One day shall crown th’ alliance on't *, so please
Here at my house, and at my proper cost. [you,
Duke. Madam, I am most apt t embrace your

offer.
Your master quits you; and for your service done

him,
So much against the metal of your sex, [To Viola.
So far beneath your soft and tender breeding;
And since you call'd me master for so long,
Here is my hand you shall from this time be
Your master's mistress.

Oli. A sister, you are she.

S CE N E VII.

Enter Malvolio.
Duke. Is this the madman ?
Oli, Ay, my Lord, this fame : how now, Malvolio?

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Alliance, an't so please you. Revisal.

Mal. Madam, you have done me wrong, notori

ous wrong: Oli. Have I, Malvolio? no.

Mal. Lady, you have; pray you, perufe that letter. You must not now deny it is your hand. Write from it if you can, in hand or phrase ; Or say 'tis not your seal, nor your invention ; You can say none of this. Well, grant it then, And tell me in the modesty of honour, Why you have given me such clear lights of favour, Bade me come smiling, and cross-garter'd to you, To put on yellow stockings, and to frown Upon Sir Toby, and the lighter people : And acting thus in an obedient hope, Why have you suffer'd me to be imprison'd, Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest, And made the most notorious geck and gull That e'er invention play'd on? tell me, why?

Oli. Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing, Tho', I confess, much like the character: But, out of question, 'tis Maria's hand. And now I do bethink me, it was she First told me thou wast mad; then cam'ft thou

smiling, And in such forms which here were presuppos'd + Upon thee in the letter: pr’ythee, be content; This practice hath most shrewdly pass'd upon thee; But when we know the grounds and authors of it, Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge Of thine own cause.

Fab. Good Madam, hear me speak; And let no quarrel, nor no brawl to come, Taint the condition of this present hour, Which I have wond'red at. In hope it shall not, Most freely I confess myself and Sir Toby Set this device against Malvolio here, Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts We had conceiv'd against him. Maria writ The letter at Şir Toby's great importance ;

ti, e. previously pointed out to thee, in such a manaer as to deceive thee. Revisalo

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