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 fecret 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, fir, what is your text? Vio. Most sweet lady,

Oli. A comfortable doctrine, and much may be faid of it. Where lies your text?

Vio. In Orfino's bofom.

Oli. In his bofom? in what chapter of his bofom? Vio. To answer by the method, in the first of his heart. Oli. O, I have read it; it is herefy. Have you no more to say?

Vio. Good madam, let me fee your face.

Oli. Have you any commiffion from your lord to negotiate with my face? you are now out of your text: but we will draw the curtain, and fhew you the picture. Look you, fir, such as once I was, this presents: Is't not well done? [Unveiling.

C

Vio. Excellently done, if God did all.

Oli. 'Tis in grain, fir; 'twill endure wind and weather. Vio. 'Tis beauty truly blent, whofe red and white Nature's own fweet and cunning hand laid on: Lady, you are the cruell'ft fhe alive,

If you will lead thefe graces to the grave,

And leave the world no copy.

Oli. O, fir, I will not be fo hard hearted; I will give

b from my entertainment.]—the manner of my reception; in the fervice of a great man.

* fuch a one I was this prefent :-you may fay fuch was my face, when you faw me.

blent,]-blended, mixed together.

out

out diverse schedules of my beauty: It fhall be inventoried; and every particle, and utenfil, labell'd 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 fent hither to praise me?

Vio. I fee you what you are: you are too proud; But if you were the devil, you are fair.

My lord and mafter loves you; O, fuch love

Could be but recompens'd, though you were crown'd
The non-pareil of beauty!

Oli. How does he love me?

With

groans that thunder love, with fighs of fire. Oli. Your lord does know my mind, I cannot love him; Yet I fuppofe 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 dimenfion, and the shape of nature,

A gracious perfon: but yet I cannot love him;
He might have took his anfwer long ago.
Vio. If I did love you in my master's flame,
With fuch a suffering, fuch a deadly life,
your denial I would find no fenfe,

In

1 would not understand it.

Oli. Why, what would you?

Vio. Make me a willow cabin at your gate,
And call upon my foul within the house;
Write loyal cantos of contemned love,

And fing them loud even in the dead of night;
Haloo your name to the reverberate hills,

• praife me ?]-with no other purpose but to lavish your encomiums upon me.-'praife-appraife, fet a value on me.

With adoration's fertile tears,]-With a copious flow of tears, that adoring love pours forth.-With adorations, with fertile tears.

well divulg'd,]-fairly reported.

h reverberate]-re-echoing, re-founding. Shakspeare frequently ufes the passive adjective actively.

And

And make the babbling 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 parentage?
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: fpend this for me.
Vio. I am no fee'd poft, lady; keep your purse;
My master, not myself, lacks recompence.
Love make his heart of flint, that you fhall love;
And let your fervour, like my master's, be
Plac'd in contempt! Farewel, fair cruelty.
Oli. What is your parentage?

Above my fortunes, yet my ftate is well :

I am a gentleman.—

-I'll be fworn thou art;

Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit,

[Exit.

Do give thee five-fold blazon:-Not too faft ;-soft! soft! Unless the mafter were the man.-How now?

Even fo quickly may one catch the plague?

Methinks, I feel this youth's perfections,

With an invifible and fubtle ftealth,

Το

creep

in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.

What, ho, Malvolio!-

Re-enter Malvolio.

Mal. Here, madam, at your fervice.

Oli. Run after that fame peevish meffenger, The county's man: he left this ring behind him, Would I, or not; tell him, I'll none of it.

Defire

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 reafons for't. Hye thee, Malvolio.
Mal. Madam, I will.

Oli. I do I know not what; and fear to find
1 Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind.
Fate, fhew thy force: Ourfelves we do not owe;
What is decreed, muft be; and be this fo!

[Exit.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

The Street.

Enter Antonio and Sebastian.

Ant. Will you ftay no longer? nor will you not, that I go with you?

Seb. By your patience, no: my ftars fhine darkly over me; the malignancy of my fate might, perhaps, diftemper yours; therefore I shall crave of you your leave, that 1 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, in footh, fir; my determinate voyage is meer extravagancy. But I perceive in you fo excellent a touch of modefty, that you will not extort from me what I am willing to keep in; therefore it charges me in manners the rather to 'exprefs myself: You must know of me then,

1 Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind.]—I have form'd too favourable an idea of Cefario for prudence to fupprefs.-I have disclos'd to the youth more of my flame than I intended.

we do not owe ;]-have not the control of.

1

express]-reveal. Antonio,

Antonio, my name is Sebastian, which I call'd Rodorigo; my father was that Sebaftian of Meffaline, whom I know, you have heard of; he left behind him, myself, and a sister, both born in an hour; If the heavens had been pleas'd, would we had fo ended! but you, fir, alter'd that; for, fome hour before you took me from the breach of the fea, was my fifter drown'd.

Ant. Alas, the day!

Seb. A lady, fir, though it was faid fhe much resembled me, was yet of many accounted beautiful: but, though I could not, with fuch estimable wonder, over-far believe that, yet thus far I will boldly publish her, fhe bore a mind that envy could not but call fair: fhe is drown'd already, fir, with falt water, though I feem to drown her remembrance again with more.

Ant. Pardon me, fir, 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 fervant.

Seb. If you will not undo what you have done, that is, kill him whom you have recover'd, defire it not. Fare ye well at once: my bosom is full of kindness; and I am yet fo near the manners of my mother, that upon the least occafion more, mine eyes will tell tales of me. I am bound to the count Orfino's court: farewel.

Ant. The gentleness of all the gods go with thee!

I have many enemies in Orfino's court,
Elfe would I very fhortly fee thee there;

[Exit.

But, come what may, I do adore thee so,

That danger fhall feem fport, and I will go.

[Exit.

m with fuch eftimable wonder, over-far believe that,]-with fo high a degree of admiration, fall in with that opinion altogether.

SCENE