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You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?

Oli. Stay :

I prithee, tell me what thou think'st of me

Vio. That you do think you are not what you

are.

Oli. If I think so, I think the same of you.

Vio. Then think you right: I am not what I

am.

Oli. I would you were as I would have you be ! Vio. Would it be better, madam, than I am, I wish it might; for now I am your fool.

Oli. O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful

In the contempt and anger of his lip!

A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon Than love that would seem hid: love's night is

noon.

Cesario, by the roses of the spring,

By maidhood, honour, truth, and everything,
I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride,
Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide.
Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,
For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause;
But rather, reason thus with reason fetter,—
Love sought is good, but given unsought is better.
Vio. By innocence I swear, and by my youth,

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And that no woman has; nor never none
Shall mistress be of it, save I alone.
And so adieu, good madam: never more
Will I my master's tears to you deplore.

Oli. Yet come again; for thou perhaps may'st

move

That heart which now abhors, to like his love.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-A Room in OLIVIA'S House.

Enter Sir TOBY BELCHI, Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK, and FABIAN.

Sir And. No, faith, I'll not stay a jot longer. Sir To: Thy reason, dear venom; give thy reason. Fab. You must needs yield your reason, Sir Andrew.

Sir And. Marry, I saw your niece do more favours to the count's serving-man than ever she bestowed upon me; I saw 't i' the orchard.

Sir To. Did she see thee the while, old boy? tell me that.

Sir And. As plain as I see you now.

Sir And. 'Slight! will you make an ass o' me? Fab. I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of judgment and reason.

Sir To. And they have been grand-jurymen since before Noah was a sailor.

Fab. She did show favour to the youth in your sight only to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse valour, to put fire in your heart, and brimstone in your liver. You should then have accosted her, and with some excellent jests, fire-new from the mint, you should have banged the youth into dumbness. This was looked for at your hand, and this was balked: the double gilt of this opportunity you let time wash off, and you are now sailed into the north of my lady's opinion; where you will hang like an icicle on a Dutchman's beard, unless you do redeem it by some laudable attempt either of valour or policy.

Sir And. An't be any way, it must be with valour; for policy I hate: I had as lief be a Brownist as a politician.

Sir To. Why then, build me thy fortunes upon the basis of valour. Challenge me the count's youth to fight with him; hurt him in eleven places: my niece shall take note of it; and assure thyself, there is no love-broker in the world can more

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prevail in man's commendation with woman than report of valour.

Fab. There is no way but this, Sir Andrew.

Sir And. Will either of you bear me a challenge to him?

Sir To. Go, write it in a martial hand; be curst and brief; it is no matter how witty, so it be cloquent and full of invention: taunt him with the license of ink: if thou Thou'st him some thrice, it shall not be amiss; and as many Lies as will lie in thy sheet of paper, although the sheet were big enough for the bed of Ware in England, set 'em Let there be gall enough in down: go, about it. thy ink; though thou write with a goose-pen, no natter about it.

Sir And. Where shall I find you?

Sir To. We'll call thee at thy cubiculo. Go.
[Exit Sir ANDREw.

Fab. This is a dear manakin to you, Sir Toby. Sir To. I have been dear to him, lad,--some two thousand strong, or so.

Fab. We shall have a rare letter from him: but you'll not deliver 't?

Sir To. Never trust me then; and by all means I think oxen and stir on the youth to an answer.

if he were opened and you find so much blood in his liver as will clog the foot of a flea I'll eat the rest of the anatomy.

Fab. And his opposite, the youth, bears in his Visage no great presage of cruelty.

Sir To. Look, where the youngest wren of nine

comes.

Enter MARIA.

Mar. If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourselves into stitches, follow me. Yond gull Malvolio is turned heathen, a very renegado; for there is no Christian, that means to be saved by believing rightly, can ever believe such impossible passages of grossness. He's in yellow stockings. Sir To. And cross-gartered?

Mar. Most villainously; like a pedant that keeps a school i' the church.-I have dogged him like his murderer. He does obey every point of the letter that I dropped to betray him he does smile his face into more lines than are in the new map, with the augmentation of the Indies. You have not seen such a thing as 'tis; I can hardly forbear hurling things at him. I know, my lady will strike him if she do, he 'll smile, and take 't for a great favour.

Sir To. Come, bring us, bring us where he is

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