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liver, when the courtesy of it is so fearful, Speak
Vio. It alone concerns your car. I bring 110 overture of war, no taxation of homage; I hold the olive in my hand : my words are as full of
peace as matter.
Oli. Yet you began rudely.
What are you? what would you?
Vio. The rudeness, that hath appear'd in me, have I learn'd from my entertainment. What I am, and what I would, are as secret as maiden. head: to your ears, divinity; to any other's, prophanation.
Oli. Give us the place alone :, we will hear this divinity. (Exit MARIA.] Now, Sir, what is you text?
Vio. Most sweet Lady, Oli. A comfortable doctrine', and much may be said of it. Where lies your text?
Vio. In Orsino's bosom.,
Vio. To answer by the method, in the first of his heart.
Oli. O, I have read it; it is heçesy. Have you no more to say ?
Vio. Good Madam, let me see your face,
Oli. Have you any commission from your lord to negotiate with my face? you are now out of your text: but we will draw the curtain, and shew you the picture. Look you, Sir, such a one I was this present: Is't not well done?
[Unveiling. Vio. Excellently doire, if God did all.
Oli. 'Tis iu grain, Sir; 'iwill endure wind and Weather.
Vio. "Tis beauty truly blent, whosc red and white
Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on: Lady, you are the cruel'st she alive, If you will lead these graces to the grave, And leave the world 110 copy.
Oli. O, Sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will give out divers schedules of my beauty: It shall be inventoried; and every' particle, and uten: sil, labeld to my will: as, item, two lips indiffe. rent red; itém, two grey eyes, with lids to them; item, one neck, one. chin, and so forth. Were you sent hither to 'praise me?
Vio. I see you what you are : you are too proud ; But, if you were the devil, you are fair. My lord and master loves you ; 0, such love Could be but recompens'd, though you were crowu'd The non-pareil of lcauty!
Oli. How does he love me?
Vio. With adorations, with fertile tears, With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire. Oli. Your lord does know my mind, I cannot
love him :
Vio. If I did love you in my master's fame,
Oli. Why, what would you?
Vio. Make me a willow cabin at your gate, And call upon my soul within the house; Write loyal cantons of contemned love, And sing them loua cyén in the dead of night;
llolla your name to the reverberate hills,
Oli. You inight do much : What is your parentage ?
Vio. Above my fortunes, yet my state is well: I am a gentleman.
Oli. 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 paius: spend this for me.
Vio. I am no fee'd post, Lady; keep your purse;. My master, not myself, lacks recompense, Love makes his lieart of fint, that you shall love; And let your fervour, like my master's, be Plac'd in contempt! Farewel, fair cruelty. (Exit.
Oli. What is your parentage ? Above my fortunes, yet my state is well : I am a gentleman. I'll be sworn thou art; Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit, Do give thee five-fold blazon: Not too fast:
soft! soft! Unless the master were the man. How now? Even so quickly may one catch the plague? Methinks, I feel this youth's perfections, 'With an invisille and subtle stealth, To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be. What, ho, Malvolio!
Re-enter MALVOLIO. Mal. Here, Madam, at your service,
Oli. Run afier that same peevish messenger, The county'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,
A C T II.
Enter ANTONIO and SEBASTIAN.
Ant. Will you stay no longer ? nor will you not, that I go with you?
Seb. By your puience, no: my stars shine dark. ly over me; the malignancy of my fate might, perhaps, distcmper yours ;
therefore I shall crave of you your leave, that I may bear my evils alonę: It were a bad recompense for your love, to lay any of them on yoiz.
Ant. Let me yet know of you, whither you are bound.
Seb. No, '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 10 express myself. You must know of me then, Antonio, my name is Sebastian, which I call'd Rodo
rigo; 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 pleas'd, would we had so ended! but, you, Sir, alter'd that ; for, some hour before you took me from the breach of the sca, was my sister drown'd.
Ant. Alas, the day!
Seb. A lady, Sir, though it was said she much resembled me, was yet of many accounted bcanti. ful: but, though I could not, with such estimable wonder, over-far believe that, yet thus far I will boldly publish her,' she bore a mind that envy could not but call fair: she is drown'd already, Sir, with salt water, thongh I seem to drown her remembrance again with more.
Ant. Fardon 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, lill him whom you have recover'd, desire
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 will tell tales of me. I am bound to the Count Orsino's court: farewel.
[Exit. Ant. The gentleness of all the gods go with