6

have reason, be brief: 'tis not that time of the moon with me, to make one in fo fkipping a dialogue. Mar. Will you hoift fail, fir? here lies your way. Vio. No, good swabber; I am to hull here a little longer 7.-Some mollification for your giant, fweet lady.

9 Oli. Tell me your mind.

Vio. I am a meffenger.

8

Oli. Sure, you have fome hideous matter to deliver, when the courtesy of it is fo fearful. Speak your office.

Vio. It alone concerns your ear. I bring no 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

-Skipping] Wild, frolick, mad. JOHNSON. So, in K. Henry IV. P. I:

7

"The Skipping king, he ambled up and down &c."

STEEVENS.

I am to hull here. -] To bull means to drive to and without fails or rudder. So, in the Noble

fro upon the water,

Soldier, 1634:

"That all these mifchiefs bull with flagging fail."

STEEVENS

Some mollification for your giant,] Ladies, in romance, are guarded by giants, who repel all improper or troublefome advances. Viola, feeing the waiting-maid fo eager to oppose her meffage, intreats Olivia to pacify her giant. JOHNSON.

Viola likewife alludes to the diminutive fize of Maria, who is called on fubfequent occafions, little villain, youngest wren of nine, &c. STEEVENS.

9 Vio. -Tell me your mind, I am a messenger.] These words must be divided between the two speakers thus:

Oli. Tell me your mind.

Vio. I am a meffenger.

Viola growing troublefome, Olivia would difmifs her, and therefore cuts her fhort with this command, Tell me your mind. The other, taking advantage of the ambiguity of the word mind, which fignifies either bufinefs or inclinations, replies as if he had used it in the latter fenfe, I am a messenger. WARBURTON.

I learn'd

I learn'd from my entertainment. What I am, and what I would, are as fecret as maiden-head: to your ears, divinity; to any other's, prophanation.

Oli. Give us the place alone: [Exit Maria.] we will hear this divinity. Now, fir, what is your text? Vio. Moft fweet lady,

Oli. A comfortable doctrine, and much may be faid of it. Where lies your text?

Vio. In Orfino's bofom.

Oli. In his bofom? in what chapter of his bofom? Vio. To answer by the method, in the firft of his heart.

Oli. O, I have read it; it is herefy. Have you no more to say?

Vio. Good madam, let me fee your face.

Oli. Have you any commiffion from your lord to negotiate with my face? you are now out of your text: but we will draw the curtain, and fhew you the picture. Look you, fir, fuch a one I was this prefent: Is't not well done? [Unveiling.

1

Vio. Excellently done, if God did all. Oli. 'Tis in grain, fir; 'twill endure wind and weather.

Vio. 'Tis beauty truly blent 2, whofe red and white Nature's

Look you, fir, fuch a one I was this prefent: is't not well done?] This is nonfenfe. The change of was to wear, I think, clears all up, and gives the expreffion an air of gallantry. Viola preffes to fee Olivia's face: The other at length pulls off her veil, and fays: We will draw the curtain, and fhew you the picture. I wear this complexion to day, I may wear another to morrow; jocularly intimating, that the painted. The other, vext at the jest, fays, "Excellently done, if God did all." Perhaps, it may be true, what you fay in jeft; otherwife 'tis an excellent face. 'Tis in grain, &c. replies Olivia. WARBURTON.

I am not fatisfied with this emendation. She fays, I was this prefent, instead of saying I am; because she had once fhewn herfelf, and perfonates the beholder, who is afterwards to make the

relation. STEEVENS.

2 'Tis beauty truly blent,

i. e. blended, mix'd together. -] N 2 Blent

Nature's own fweet and cunning hand laid on:
Lady, you are the cruell'ft fhe alive,

3 If you will lead thefe graces to the grave,
And leave the world no copy.

Oli. O, fir, I will not be fo hard hearted; I will give out diverse schedules of my beauty : It fhall be inventoried; and every particle, and utenfil, labell'd to my will as, item, two lips indifferent red; item, two grey eyes, with lids to them; item, one neck, one chin, and fo forth. Were you fent hither to 'praise

me + ?

Vio. I fee you what you are: you are too proud; But, if you were the devil, you are fair.

My lord and mafter loves you; O, fuch love

Could be but recompens'd, though you were crown'd The non-pareil of beauty!

Oli. How does he love me ?

Vio. With adorations, with fertile tears,

Blent is the antient participle of the verb to blend. So, in a Look ing Glafs for London and England, 1617:

-for having blent

My name with guile, and traiterous intent." STEEVENS, 3 If you will lead thefe graces to the

And leave the world no copy.}

grave,

How much more elegantly is this thought expreffed by Shakefpeare, than by Beaumont and Fletcher in their Philafter? 66 I grieve fuch virtue fhould be laid in earth

" Without an heir."

Shakespeare has copied himself in his 11th fonnet:

She carv'd thee for her feal, and meant thereby "Thou should'st print more, nor let that copy die.” Again, in the 3d fonnet:"

4

"Die fingle, and thine image dies with thee."

STEEVENS.

Were you fent hither to praise me ?] The foregoing words Schedule and inventoried, fhew, I think, that this ought to be printed:

"Were you fent hither to 'praile me?

i. e. to appretiate or appraise me. Malone.

With groans that thunder love, with fighs of fire. Oli. Your lord does know my mind, I cannot love him:

Yet I fuppofe him virtuous, know him noble,
Of great eftate, of fresh and stainless youth;
In voices well divulg'd, free, learn'd, and valiant,
And, in dimenfion, and the fhape of nature,
A gracious perfon: but yet I cannot love him;
He might have took his anfwer long ago.
Vio. If I did love you in my mafter's flame,
With fuch a fuffering, fuch a deadly life,
In your denial I would find no fenfe,
I would not understand it.

Oli. Why, what would you?

Vio. Make me a willow cabin at your gate,
And call upon my foul within the house;
Write loyal cantos of contemned love,
And fing them loud even in the dead of night;
Haloo your name to the reverberate hills,
And make the babling goffip of the air
Cry out, Olivia! O, you fhould not rest
Between the elements of air and earth,
you fhould pity me.

But

5 With greans that thunder love, with fighs of fire.] This line is worthy of Dryden's Almanzor, and if not faid in mockery of amorous hyperboles, might be regarded as a ridicule on a paffage in Chapman's tranflation of the first book of Homer, 1598:

"Jove thunder'd out a figh;"

er, on another in Lodge's Rofalynde, 1592:
"The winds of my deepe fighes

"That thunder ftill for noughts, &c." STEEVENS.
Halloo your name to the reverberate bills,]

I have corrected, reverberant. THEOBALD.

Mr. Upton well obferves, that Shakespeare frequently ufes the adjective paffive, actively. Theobald's emendation is therefore unneceffary. B. Jonfon in one of his mafques at court, fays:

66

which kill, Pythagoras First-taught to men by a reverberate glafs." STEEVENS.

Oli. You might 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 pains: fpend this for me.
Vio. I am no fee'd poft, lady; keep your purfe
My master, not myfelf, lacks recompence.
Love make his heart of flint, that you fhall love;
And let your fervour, like my master's, be
Plac'd in contempt! Farewel, fair cruelty.
Oli. What is your parentage?

Above my fortunes, yet my fate is well:

I am a gentleman.— I'll be fworn thou art;

[Exit.

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

foft!

Unless the mafter were the man.-How now?
Even fo quickly may one catch the plague ?
Methinks, I feel this youth's perfections,
With an invifible and fubtle ftealth,
To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.
What, ho, Malvolio!-

Re-enter Malvolio.

Mal. Here, madam, at your fervice.
Oli. Run after that fame peevifh meffenger,
The county's man he left this ring behind him,
Would I, or not; tell him, I'll none of it.
Defire 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 reafons for't. Hye thee, Malvolio.
Mal. Madam, I will.

[Exit.