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of greatness; fome are born great, fome atchieve great nefs, and fome have greatness thrust upon them. Thy fates open their hands, let thy blood and fpirit embrace them, and to inure thyfelf to what thou art like to be, caft thy humble flough, and appear fresh. Be oppofite with a kinfman, furly with fervants: let thy tongue tang arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of fingularity. She thus advises thee, that fighs for thee. Remember who commended thy yellow ftockings, and wifh'd to fee thee ever cross-garter'd. I fay, remember; go to, thou art made, if thou defireft to be fo: if not, let me fee thee a feward ftill, the fellow of fervants, and not worthy to touch fortune's fingers. Farewel. She, that would alter fervices with thee, the fortunate and happy. Day-light and champian discovers no more'; this is open. I will be proud, I will read politick authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off grofs acquaintance, I will be point de vice, the very man. I do not now fool myself, to let imagination jade me; for every reafon excites to this, that my Lady loves me. She did commend my yellow ftockings of late, fhe did praise my leg, being crofs-garter'd, and in this the manifefts herself to my love, and with a kind of injunction drives me to these habits of her liking. I thank my stars, I am happy: I will be ftrange, ftout, in yellow ftockings, and cross-garter'd, even with the fwiftnefs of putting on. Jove, and my ftars be praised! -Here is yet a poftfcript. Thou canst not chufe but know who I am: if thou entertaineft my love, let it ap pear in thy fmiling; thy fmiles become thee well. Therefore in my prefence ftill fmile, dear my fweet, I pr'ythee.-Jove, I thank thee! I will fmile, I will do every thing that thou wilt have me.

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Fab. I will not give my part of this fport for a penfion of thousands to be paid from the Sophy.

Sir To. I could marry this wench for this device.
Sir And. So could I too.

Sir To. And ask no other dowry with her, but fuch another jeft.


Enter Maria.

Sir And. Nor I neither.

Fab. Here comes my noble gull-catcher.
Sir To. Wilt thou fet thy foot o'my neck?

Sir And. Or o' mine either?

Sir To. Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and become thy bond-flave?

Sir And. I'faith, or I either?

Sir To. Why, thou haft put him in fuch a dream, that when the image of it leaves him, he must run mad.

Mar. Nay, but fay true, does it work upon him? Sir To. Like Aqua vita with a midwife.

Mar. If you will then fee the fruits of the fport, mark his first approach before my Lady: he will come to her in yellow ftockings, and 'tis a colour fhe abhors; and crofs-garter'd, a fafhion fhe detefts; and he will fmile upon her, which will now be fo unfuitable to her difpofition, being addicted to a melancholy, as the is, that it cannot but turn him into a notable contempt: if you will fee it, follow me.

Sir To. To the gates of Tartar; thou moft excelfent devil of wit!

Sir And. I'll make one too.


The word tray-trip I do not 9 Aqua vite is the old name of


frong waters.

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OLIVIA'S Garden.

Enter Viola and Clown.


AVE thee, Friend, and thy mufick. Doft thou live by thy Tabor?

Clo. No, Sir, I live by the Church.

Vio. Art thou a Churchman?

Clo. No fuch matter, Sir; I do live by the Church; for I do live at my Houfe, and my House doth ftand by the Church.

Vio. So thoù may'ft fay, the King lyes by a Beggar, if a Beggar dwell near him: or the Church ftands by thy Tabor, if thy Tabor ftand by the Church.

Clo. You have faid, Sir.To fee this age!-A fentence is but a chev'ril glove to a good wit; how quickly the wrong fide may be turned outward?

Vio. Nay, that's certain; they, that dally nicely with words, may quickly make them wanton.

Clo. I would therefore, my Sifter had had no Name, Sir.

Vio. Why, Man?

Clo. Why, Sir, her Name's a word; and to dally with that word, might make. my Sifter wanton; but, indeed, words are very rafcals, fince bonds difgrac'd them.

Vio. Thy reafon, Man?

Clo. Troth, Sir, I can yield you none without words; and words are grown fo falfe, I am loth to prove reason with them.

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Vio. I warrant, thou art a merry Fellow, and carest for nothing.

Clo. Not fo, Sir, I do care for fomething; but, in my confcience, Sir, I do not care for you: if that be to care for nothing, Sir, I would, it would make you invifible.

Vio. Art not thou the Lady Olivia's Fool?

Clo. No, indeed, Sir; the Lady Olivia has no folly; The will keep no Fool, Sir, 'till fhe be married; and Fools are as like Hufbands, as Pilchers are to Herrings, the Hufband's the bigger: I am, indeed, not her Fool, but her Corrupter of Words.

Vio. I faw thee late at the Duke Orfino's.

Clo. Foolery, Sir, does walk about the Orb like the Sun; it fhines every where. I would be forry, Sir, but the Fool fhould be as oft with your Mafter, as with my Mistress: I think, I faw your wisdom there.

Vio. Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee. Hold, there's expences for thee.

Clo. Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, fend thee a beard!

Vio. By my troth, I'll tell thee, I am almoft fick for one, though I would not have it grow on my chin. Is thy lady within?

Clo. Would not a pair of these have bred, Sir? Vio. Yes, being kept together, and put to use. Clo. I would play lord Pandarus' of Phrygia, Sir, to bring a Creffida to this Troylus.

Vio. I understand you, Sir, 'tis well begg'd.

Clo. The matter, I hope, is not great, Sir; begging but a beggar: Creffida was a beggar. My lady is within, Sir, I will confter to them whence you come; who you are, and what you would, is out of my welkin; I might fay, element; but the word is, [Exit.


Lord Pandarus.] See our authour's play of Troilus and Crefida. 3 VOL. II.



Vio. This fellow is wife enough to play the fool,
And, to do that well, craves a kind of wit:
He must obferve their mood on whom he jefts,
The quality of the perfons, and the time;
And, like the haggard, check at every feather
That comes before his eye. This is a practice,
As full of labour as a wife-man's art :

For folly, that he wifely fhews, is fit;
But wife men's folly fall'n 2, quite taints their wit.


Enter Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew.

Sir And. Save you, Gentleman 3.

Vio. And you, Sir.

Sir To. Dieu vous guarde, Monfieur.
Vio. Et vous auffi; votre ferviteur.

Sir To. I hope, Sir, you are; and I am yours.

Will you encounter the Houfe? my Niece is defirous you fhould enter, if your trade be to her.

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Vio. I am bound to your Niece, Sir; I mean, fhe is the lift of my voyage *.

Sir To. Tafte your legs, Sir, put them to motion. Vio. My legs do better understand me, Sir, than I

2 But wife men's folly fall'n] Sir Thomas Hanmer reads, folly fbewn.

3 In former editions.
Sir To. Save you, Gentleman.
Vio. And you, Sir.
Sir And. Dieu vous guarde,

Vio. Et vous aufi; votre Serviteur.

Sir And. I hope, Sir, you are; and I am yours. I have ventured to make the two Knights change

Speeches in this Dialogue with Viola; and, I think, not without good reafon. It were a prepofterous Forgetfulness in the Poet, and out of all, probability, to make Sir Andrew not only speak French, but understand what is faid to him in it, who in the first Act did not know the English of Pourquoi. THEOBALD. 4 The lift is the bound, limit, farthest point.


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