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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, thai's mended, is but patch'd: viriue, that transgresses, is but patch'd with sin; and sin, that, amends, is but patch'd with virtue: If that this simple syllogism will serve,
if it will not, what remedy? As there is 110 true cuckold but calamity, so beauty's a flower : the lady bade take away the fool; therefore, I say again, take her away
Oli. Sir, I bade them take away you.
Clo. Misprision in the highest degree! - Lady, Cucullus non facit monachum; that's as much as to say, I wear not inoiley in my brain. Good Madonna, give me leave to prove you a fool.
Oli. Can you do it?
Clo. I must catechize you for it, Madonua; Good my mouse of virtue, answer me.
Oli. Well, Sir, for want of other idleness, I'll bide your proof.
Clo. Good Madonna, why mourn'st thou?
Clo. The more fool you, Madonna, to mourn for your brother's soul being in heaven. Take away the fool, Gentlemen.
Oli. What think yout of this fool, Malvolio ? doch he not mend ?
Mal. Tes; and shall do, till the pangs of death shake him: Infirmity, that decays the vise, doth eyer make the better fool.
clo. Got send youi, Sir, a speedy infirmiiy, for
the better encreasing 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.
Oli. How say you to that, Malvolio ?
Mal. I marvel your Ladyship takes delight in such a barrei rascal; 1 saw him put down the other day with an ordinary fool, that has no more brain than a stone: I.ook you now, he's ont of his guard already; unless you laugh and minis. ter occasion to him, he is gagg'd. I protest, I take these wise men, that crow
so at these set kind of fools, no better than the fools' zanies.
Oli. O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste with a distemper'd appetite. To be generoils, guiltless, and of free disposition, is to take those things for bird-bolts, that you decm cannon-bul lets: There is no slauder in an allow'd fool, though He do nothing bit rail; nor 110 railing in a known discreet man, thongh he do nothing but reprove.
Clo. Now Mercury ivdue thee with leasing, for thou speak’st well of fools!
Re-enter MARIA. Mar. Madam, there is at the gate a young gentleman, much desires to speak with you.
Oli. From the Count Orsino, is it?
'lis a fair young man, and well attended.
Oli. Who of my people hold him in delay ?
Oli. Fetch him off, I pray yon; he speaks nothing but Madman: Fie on him! (Exit MARIA.] Gó you, Malvolio: if it be a snit from the Cont, 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 islike it.
Clo. Thou hast spoke for us, Madonna, thy eldest son should be a fool: whose scull Jove cram with brains, for here he comes, one of thy kin, has a most weak pia mater.
Enter SIR TOBY BELCH. Oli. By mine honour, half drunk. - What is he at the gate, cousin ?
Sir To. A genileman.
Sir To. "Tis as gentleman here A plague o'ı hese pickle-herrings! How now, sot? Clo. Good Sir Toby,
Oli. Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by this lethargy!
dir To. Lechery! I defy lechery: There's one at the gate.
Oli. Ay, marry; what is he?
Sir To, Let him be the devil, an he will, I care 20t: give me faith, say 1. Well, it's all one. [Exit.
Oli. What's a drunken man like, fool?
one draught above heat makes him a fool; the second mads him; and a third drowns him.
Oli. Go thon and seeli the coroner, and let him sit o' my coz: for he's in the third degree of drink, he's drown'd: go, look after him.
Clo. He is but mad yet, Madonna ; and the fool shall look to the madman,
Re-enter MALVOLIO. Mal, Madam, youd 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 forc-knowledge
of that too, and therefore comes to speak with yoil. What is to be said to him, Lady? he's fortified against any denial.
Oli. 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.
Oli. What kind of man is he?
Mal. Of very ill manner; he'll speak with you, will you, or no.
Oli. Of what personage, and years, is he?
Mol. Not yet old enough for a man, hor young enough for a boy; a squash is before it is a peascod, or a codling when 'tis almost an apple: 'ris with him een standing water, Welween boy and man. lle is very well-favoruril, and he speaks very shrewishly; one would think, his mother's milk were scarce out of him.
Oli. Let him approach: Call in my gentlewoman.
Enter VIOLA. Vio. The honourable lady of the house, which is she?
Oli. Speak io me, I shall answer for her; Your vill ?
Vio: Vost radiant, exquisite, and unmatchabie beauty, I pray you, tell me, if this be the lady of the house, for I never saw her: I would ive loih to cast away my speech; for, besides that it is excellently well perlu'd, I have taken great
pains to con it. Good beanties, let me sustain no scorn; I am very comptible, even to the lcast sinis. ter usage.
Oli. Whence came you, Sir?
Vio. I can say little more than I have studied, and that qısestion's out of my part. Good gentle one, give me modest assurance, if you be the lady of the house, that I may procced in my speech. !
Oli. Are you a comedian ?
Vio. No, my profound heart: and yet, by the very fangs of malice,
I am not that I play. Are you the lady of the house?
Oli. If I do not usurp myself, I am.,
Vio. Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp yourself; for what is yours to bestow, is not yours
But this is from my commission: I will on with my speech in your praise, and then shew you the heart of my niessage.
Oli. Come to what is important in't. I forgive you the praise ?
Vio. Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis poetical.
Oli. It is the more like to be feign'd; I pray you, keep it in,
I heard, you were saucy at my gates; and allow'd your approach, rather to wou. der at you than to hear you. If you be not mad, be gone; if you have reason, be brief: 'tis not that time of moon 'with me, to make one in so skipping a dialogue.
Mar. Will you hoist sail, Sir? here lies your way. Vio. No, good swabber;
to hull here a little longer., - Some mollification for your giant, sweet Lady.
Oli. Tell me your mind.
Oli. Sure, you have some hideous matter to de. VOL. II.