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Clo. Apt, in good faith, very apt: well, go thy way; if fir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty 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.

SCENE VII.

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Enter Olivia, and Malvolio.
Clo. Wit, an'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 thee, 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

dishonest. Clo. Two faults, Madona, that drink and good counsel 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 dishonest; if he cannot, let the botcher mend him. Any thing that's mended is but patch’d: virtue that transgreffes is but patch'd with sin, and sin that amends is but patch'd with virtue. If that this simple fyllogism will serve, fo; if it will not, what remedy? as there is no true counsellor 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.

lii 2

Clo.

1

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

Oli. Well, fir, for want of other idleness, I'll bide your proof,
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 soul 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 brains 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 those wise men that crow so at these fet kind of fools, no better than the fools' zanies. Oli

. O, you are fick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste with a distemper'd appetite. To be generous, guiltless, and of free disposition, is to take those things for bird-bolts that

you

deem cannon-bullets: there is no Nander 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 endue. thee with learning! for thou speak'st well of fools.

Enter Marią.
Mar. Madam, there is at the gate a young gentleman much
desires to speak with you.
Oli. From the duke Orfino is it?

Mar.

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 duke, I am sick, or not at home: what you will to dismiss it. [Exit Malvolio.] Now see, sir, how your fooling grows old, and people dislike it.

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

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Enter for Toby. Oli. By mine honour, half drunk. What is he at the gate, uncle?

Sir To. A gentleman.
Oli. A gentleman ? what gentleman ?

Sir To. "Tis a gentleman. Here — [belching.] a plague o’these pickle herring! how now, sot?

Clo. Good fir Toby.

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

Sir To. Letchery! I defy letchery: there's one at the gate. Oli

. Ay, marry, what is he? Sir To. Let him be the devil an he will, I care not: give me faith, say I. Well, it's all one.

[Exit. 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,

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

[Exit clown. Enter Malvolio. Mal. Madam, yond young fellow swears he will fpeak with you. I told him, you were fick; he takes on him to underftand 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 shall not speak with me.

Mal. He has been told fo; and he says, he'll stand at your door like a sheriff's post, * or be the supporter to a 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 young enough for a boy; as a squash is before 'tis a peascod, or a codling when ’tis almost an apple: ’tis with him in standing water, between boy and man. He is very wellfavour’d, and he speaks very shrewishly; one would think, his mother's milk were scarce out of him.

Oli. Let him approach: call in my gentlewoman.
Mal. Gentlewoman, my lady calls.

[Exit.

· Heretofore, All proclamations by the king, All appointments of the rates of wages, by the justices of peace, and other things of the like nature were sent to the sheriff of each county, who was obliged to promulgate them not only by causing them to be read in every market town, but by affixing them to fome, convenient place within it: for which purpose great posts or pillars were erected in each such town, and these were call'd sheriff's posts.

SCENE

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

Enter Viola.
Vio. The honourable lady of the house, which is she?
Oli

. Speak to me, I shall answer for her : your will ?
Vio. Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable beauty — I pray
you, tell me, if this be the lady of the house, for I never saw
her: I would be loath 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 prompt, even
to the least finister 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 myself, I am.

Vio. Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp yourself; 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 show 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 faucy at my gates, and I allow'd your approach, rather to wonder at you than to hear you. If you be not mad, be

gone;

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