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Mar. In the wars, and that may you be bold to say in your foolery,

Clo. Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those that are fools, let them use their talents.

Mar. Yet you will be hang'd for being so long absent, or be turn’d away, is not that as good as a hang. ing to you

? Clo. Marry, a good hanging prevents a bad marriage ; and for turning away, let summer bear it out.

Mar. You are resolute then ?

Clo. Not so neither, but I am resolv'd on two points.

Mar. That if one break, the other will hold; or, if Both break, your gaskins fall.

Clo. Apt, in good faith ; very apt : well, go thy way, if Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witry a piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria.

Mar. Peace, you rogue, no more o'that: here comes my Lady; make your excuse wisely, you were best.

[Exit. Enter Olivia, and Malvolio. Clo. Wit, and't be thy will, put me into good fooling! those wits, that think they have thee, do very oft prove fools; and I, that am sure I lack thec, may pass for a wise man. For what says Quinapalus, Better a witty fool than a foolish wit. God bless thee, Lady!

oli. Take the fool away. Clo. Do you not hear, fellows, take away the Lady.

Oli. Go to, y'are a dry fool; I'll no more of you; besides, you grow dishoneft.

Clo. Two faults, Madona, that Drink and good Counset will amend; for give the dry fool Drink, then is the fool not dry: Bid the dishonest man mend himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishoneft ; if he cannot, let the botcher mend him. Any thing, that's mended, is but patch'd; virtue, that transgreffes, is but parch'd with fin; and sin, that amends, is but patch'd with virtue. If that this simple fyllogism will serve, so; if

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it

your proof.

it will not, what remedy? as there is no true cuckold but calamity, so beauty's a flower: the Lady bad take away the fool, therefore, I say again, take her away.

Oli. Sir, I bad 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 motley in my brain : good Madona, give me leave to prove you a fool.

Oli. Can you do it?
Clo. Dexterously, good Madona,
Oli. Make your proof.

Clo. I must catechize you for it, Madona ; good my mouse of virtue, answeș me.

Oli. Well, Sir, for want of other idleness, I'll bide
Clo. Good Madona, why mourn'st thou ?
Oli. Good fool, for my brother's death.
Clo. I think, his soul is in hell, Madona.
Oli. I know, his soul is in heav'n, fool.

Clo. The more fool you, Madona, to mourn for your brother's fou! being in heav'n : take away the fool, Gentlemen.

Oli. What think you of this fool, Malvolio, doth he not mend?

Mal. Yes, and shall do, 'till the pangs of death shake him. Infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever make better the fool.

Clo, God send you, Sir, a speedy infirmity, for the better increasing 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 barren rascal; 'I saw him put down the other day with an ordinary fool, that has no more brain than a stone. Look you now, he's out of his guard already ; unless you laugh and minister occasion to him, he is gagg’d. I protest, I take these wise men, that crow lo 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 generous, guilc, less, and of free dispolition, is to take those things for bird-bolts that you deem cannon-bullets : there is no flander in an allow'd fool, though he do nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known discreet man, though he do nothing but reprove.

Clo. Now Mercury indue thee with leasing, for thou speak'st well of fools !

Enter Maria.

Mar. Madam, there is at the gate a young Gentleman, much desires to speak with you.

Oli. From the Count Orfino, is it?

Mar. I know not, Madam, 'tis a fair young Man, and well attended.

Oli. Who of my people hold him in delay?
Mar. Sir Toby, Madam, your Uncle.

Oli. Fetch him off, I pray you, he speaks nothing but Madman: fie on him! Go you, Malvolio; if it be a suit from the Count, 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 dislike it.

Clo. Thou hast spoke for us, Madona, as if thy eldeft Son should be a fool: whose scull Jove cram with brains, for here comes one of thy Kin has a most weak Pia mater!

Enter Sir Toby. Oli. By mine honour, half drank. What is he at the gate, Uncle?

Sir To. A Gentleman.
Oli. A Gentleman? what Gentleman ?

Sir To. 'Tis a Gentleman. Here, -- [belches.] A plague o' these pickle herring ! how now, Tot?

Clo. Good Sir Toby,

Oli. Uncle, Uncle, how have you come so early by this lethargy?

Sir To.

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Sir To. Letchery, I defie letchery : there's one at

the gate.

Oli. Ay, marry, what is he?

Sir To. Let him be the devil and he will, I care not: give me faith, say I. Well, it's all one. [Ex.

Oli. What's a drunken man like, fool?

Clo. Like a drown'd man, a fool, and a madman: one draught above heat makes him a fool, the second mads him; and a third drowns him.

Oli. Go thou and seek the Coroner, and let him fit o'my Uncle; for he's in the third degree of drink; he's drown'd; go, look after him.

Clo. He is but mad yet, Madona, and the fool fhall look to the madman.

[Ex. Clown. Enter Malvolio. Mal. Madam, yond young Fellow swears he will speak with you. I told him, you were fick; 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 fore-knowledge of that too, and therefore comes to speak with you. What is to be said to him, Lady? he's fortified against any denial.

Oli. Tell him, he fhall not speak with me.

Mal. He has been told so; and he says, he'll ftand at your door like a Sheriff's poft, and be the supporter to á bench, but he'll speak with you.

Oli. What kind o'man is he?
Mal. Why, of mankind.
Oli. What manner of man?

Mal. Of very ill manners ; he'll speak with you, will you or no.

Oli. Of what personage and years is he?

Mal. Not yet old enough for a man, nor younge nough for a boy, as a fqualh is before 'tis a pealcod, or a codling when 'tis almost an apple: 'tis with him in standing water, between boy and man. well-favour'd, and he speaks very shrewishly ; one would think, his mother's milk were scarce out of him.

He is very

Ol. Let him approach: call in my Gentlewoman. Mal. Gentlewoman, my Lady calls. [Exit.

Enter Maria. Oli. Give me my veil: come, throw it o'er my face; We'll once more hear Orsino's embassy.'

Enter Viola. Vio. The honourable Lady of the house, which is The ?

Oli. Speak to me, I shall answer for her: your will?

Vio. Moft radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable Beauty-PI pray you, tell me, if this be the Lady of the house, for I never saw her. I would be loth to cast away my speech ; for, besides that it is excellently well penn'd, I have taken great pains to con it. Good Beauties, let me sustain no scorn; I am very comptible, even to the least finifter usage.

Oli. Whence came you, Sir?

Vio. I can say little more than I have studied, and that Question's out of my Part. Good gentle One, give me modest assurance, if you be the Lady of the house, that I may proceed in my speech.

Oli. Are you a Comedian?

Vio. No, my profound heart; and yet, by the very fangs of malice, I swear, I am not That I play. Are you the Lady of the house?

Oli. If I do not usurp my self, I am.

Vio. Moft certain, if you are the, you do usurp your self; for what is yours to bestow, is not yours to reserve; but this is from my Commission. I will on with

my speech in your praise, and then shew you the heart of my message.

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 sawcy at my gates; and I allow'd your approach, rather to wonder at you than

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