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to hear you. If you be not mad, be gone ; if

you have reason, be brief: 'tis not that time of the moon with me, to make one in so skipping a dialogue.

Mar. Will you hoist fail, Sir ? here lyes your way.

Vio. No, good swabber, I am to hull here a little longer. Some mollification for your Giant, sweet Lady : tell me your mind, I am a Messenger.

Oli. Sure, you have some hideous matter to deliver, when the curtesie of it is so 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 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. [Exit Maria.) We will hear this divinity. Now, Sir, what is your text?

Vio. Most sweet Lady,Oli. A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said of it. Where lyes your text?

Vio. In Orfino's bosom.
Oli. In his bosom? in what chapter of his bosom?

Vio. To answer by the method, in the first of his heart.

Oli. O, I have read it; it is heresie, 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. (3) Look you, Sir, such a one I wear this present: is't not well done?



(3) Look you, Sir, such a one I was this present : is't not well done?) This is Nonsense. My Correction, I think, clears all up, and gives the Expreffion an Air of Gallantry. Viola preses to fee Qlivia's Face: The


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Vio. Excellently done, if God did all.

Oli. 'Tis in grain, Şir; 'twill endure wind and weather.

Vio. 'Tis Beauty truly blent, whose red and white
Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on:
Lady, you are the cruell'ft She alive,
If you will lead these graces to the Grave,
And leave the world no copy.

Oli. O, Sir, I will not be so hard-hearted : I will give out diverse schedules of my Beauty. It shall be inventoried, and every particle and utensil labellid to my will. As, Item, two lips indifferent red. Item, 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: O, such love
Could be but recompenc'd, tho' you were crown'd
The Non-pareil of Beauty !

Oli. How does he love me?

Vio. With adorations, with fertile tears,
With groans that thunder love, with fighs of fire.
Oli. Your Lord does know my mind, I cannot love

Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble,
Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth ;
In voices well divulg'd; free, learn'd, and valiant;
And in dimension, and the shape of Nature,
A gracious person; but yet I cannot love him:
He might have took his answer long ago.

Vio. If I did love you in my Master's flame,
With such a suff'ring, such a deadly
In your denial I would find no sense;
I would not understand it.
other at length pulls off her Veil, and says; We will draw the Curtain,
and fhew you the picture. I wear this Complection to day, I may

wear another to morrow; jocularly intimating, that She painted. The Other, vext at the Jeaft, says, “ Excellently done, if God did all.". Perhaps, it may be true, what you say in jeaft: otherwise 'tis an excellent Facę, Tis in Grain, &c. replies Olivia.

Mr. Warburton,

Oli. Why, what would you do?

Vio. Make me a willow cabin at your gate,
And call upon my soul within the house
Write loyal Canto's of contemned love,
And fing them loud even in the dead of night:
(4) Hollow your name to the reverberant hills,
And make the babling Gossip of the Air
Cry out, Olivia! O you should not rest
Between the elements of air and earth,
But you should pity me.

Oli. You might do much :
What is your parencage?

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 fend 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; spend this for me.

Vio. I am no fee'd post, lady; keep your purse:
My master, not my self, lacks recompence.
Love make his heart of Aint, 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 flate is well:
I am a Gentleman P'll be sworn thou art.
Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit,
Do give thee five-fold blazon—not too faftfoft!

Unless the master were the man.How now?
Even so quickly may one carch the Plague ?
Methinks, I feel this youth's perfections,
With an invisible and subtile stealth,
To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be
What ho, Malvolio,

(4) Hollow your Name to the reverberate Hills,] I have, againft the Authority of the printed Copies, corrected, reverberant. The Adjective Passive makes Nonsense.


Enter Malvolio.

Mal. Here, Madam, at your service.

Oli. Run after that same peevish Messenger,
The Duke'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 reasons for't. Hye thee, Malvolios
Mal. Madam, I will.

Oli. I do, I know not what ; and fear to find
Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind:
Fate, shew thy force; our felves we do not owe;
What is decreed, must be, and be this so ! [Exit.



Enter Antonio and Sebastian.


ANTONIO. 'ILL you stay no longer ? nor will you not, that I go with you?

Seb. By your patience, no : my stars fhine darkly over me ; the malignancy of my Fate might, perhaps, distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of you your leave, that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad recompence for your love, to lay any of them on you.

Ant. Let me yet know of you, whither you are bound.

Seb. No, sooth, Sir; my determinate voyage is meer extravagancy : but I perceive in you so excellent 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 to express my self : you must know of me then, Antonio, my name is Sebastian, which I callid Rodorigo ; my Father was That Sebastian of Meffaline, whom, I know, you have hcard of. He left behind him, my self, and a Sifter, both born in one hour; if the heav'ns had been pleas’d, would we had so ended! but you, Sir, alterid That; for, fome hour before you took me from the breach of the sea, was my Sister drown'd.

Ant. Alas, the day!

Seb. A Lady, Sir, tho' it was said the much resembled me, was yet of many accounted beautiful ; but tho' 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, tho’ I seem to drown her remembrance again with more.

Ant. Pardon me, Sir, your bad entertainment.
Seb. O good Antonio, forgive me your trouble.

Ant. If you will not murther me for my love, let me be your servant.

Seb. If you will not undo what you have done, that is, kill him whom you have recover'd, desire it not. 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 Duke Orsino's Court; farewel.

[Exit. Ant. The gentleness of all the Gods go with thee! I have made enemies in Orfino's Court, Else would I very shortly see thee there : But come what may, I do adore thee fo, That danger shall seem sport, and I will go. (Exit.

Enter Viola and Malvolio, at several doors. Mal. Were not you c'en now with the Countess Olivia ?

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