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92

TWELFTH-NIGHT.

that be to care for nothing, sir, I would it would

make you invisible.

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

:

Clo. No, indeed, sir; the Lady Olivia has no folly she will keep no fool, sir, till she be married; and fools are as like husbands as pilchards are to herrings, the husband's the bigger: I am, indeed, not her fool, but her corrupter of words.

Vio. I saw thee late at the Count Orsino's.

Clo. Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb; like the sun it shines everywhere. I would be sorry, sir, but the fool should be as oft with your master as with my mistress: I think I saw your wisdom there.

Vio. Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee. Hold, there's expenses for thee. [Gives a piece of money.

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

Vio. By my troth, I'll tell thee,-I am almost sick 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.

Vio. I understand you, sir [gives another piece of money], 't is well begged.

Clo. The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, begging but a beggar: Cressida was a beggar. My lady is within, sir. I will construe to them whence you come who you are, and what you would, are out of my welkin,-I might say, element, but the word is overworn. [Exit. Vio. This fellow's wise enough to play the fool, And to do that well craves a kind of wit: He must observe their mood on whom he jests, The quality of persons, 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 wise man's art :

For folly that he wisely shows, is fit;

But wise men folly-fallen, quite taint their wit.

Enter Sir TOBY BELCH and Sir ANDREW
AGUE-CHEEK.

Sir To. 'Save you, gentleman.

Vio. And you, sir.

Sir And. Dieu vous garde, monsieur.

Vio. Et vous aussi; votre serviteur.

Sir And. I hope, sir, you are; and I am yours.

Six To Will RON

niece is desirous you should enter, if your trade be

to her.

Vio. I am bound to your niece, sir: I mean, she is the list of my voyage.

Sir To. Taste your legs, sir; put them to

motion.

Vio. My legs do better understand me, sir, than I understand what you mean by bidding me taste my legs.

Sir To. I mean, to go, sir, to enter.

Vio. I will answer you with gait and entrance: --but we are prevented.

Enter OLIVIA and MARIA.

Most excellent-accomplished lady, the heavens rain odours on you!

Sir And. That youth's a rare courtier. 'Rain odours!'-well.

Tio. My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your own most pregnant and vouchsafed ear.

Sir And. 'Odours,' 'pregnant,' and 'vouchsafed:' -I'll get 'em all three all ready.

Oli. Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing. [Exeunt Sir TOBY, Sir ANDREW,

Dive me your bond sir

Oli. What is your name?

Vio. Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess. Oli. My servant, sir? 'T was never merry world,

Since lowly feigning was called compliment.
You're servant to the Count Orsino, youth.
Vio. And he is yours, and his must needs be

yours:

Your servant's servant is your servant, madam.
Oli. For him, I think not on him for his

thoughts,

Would they were blanks, rather than filled with me!

Vio. Madam, I come to whet your gentle

thoughts

On his behalf :

Oli.

O, by your leave, I pray you,―

I bade you never speak again of him :
But, would you undertake another suit,
I had rather hear you to solicit that
Than music from the spheres.

Vio.

Dear lady,

Oli. Give me leave, beseech you. I did send After the last enchantment you did here, A ring in chase of you: so did I abuse Myself, my servant, and, I fear me, you.

96

TWELFTH-NIGHT.

Under your hard construction must I sit,

To force that on you, in a shameful cunning,
none of
knew

Which you

think?

yours what might you

Have you not set mine honour at the stake,

And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiving

Enough is shown; a cyprus, not a bosom,
Hides my heart. So, let me hear you speak.

Vio. I pity you.

Oli.

That's a degree to love.

Vio. No, not a grise; for 't is a vulgar proof, That very oft we pity enemies.

Oli. Why then, methinks, 't is time to smile
again.

O world, how apt the poor are to be proud!
If one should be a prey, how much the better
To fall before the lion than the wolf! [Clock strikes.
The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.-
Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you;
And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest,
Your wife is like to reap a proper man:

There lies your way, due west.

Vio

Then westward-ho!-

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