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S CE N E II. Enter Viola and Malvolio, at several doors. Mal. Were not you even now with the countess Olivia!

Vio. Even now, fir; on a moderate pace I have since arrived but hither.

Mal. She returns this ring to you, sir; you might have saved me my pains, to have taken it away yourself. She adds moreover, that you should put your lord into a del. perate assurance she will none of him: And one thing more; that you be never so hardy to come again in his affairs, unless it be to report your lord's taking of this. Receive it so.

Vio. She took the ring of me, I'll none of it.

Mal. Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her; and her will is, it should be so return'd: if it be worth stooping for, there it lies in your eye ; if not, be it his that finds

(Exit. Vio. I left no ring with her : What means this lady? Fortune forbid, my outside have not charm’d her! She made good view of me ; indeed so much, That, sure, methought" her eyes had lost her tongue, For she did speak in starts distractedly. She loves me, fure; the cunning of her passion Invites me in this churlish messenger. None of my lord's ring! why, he sent her none. I am the man ;-If it be so, (as 'tis) Poor lady, she were better love a dream. Disguise, I see thou art a wickedness,


* her eyes had lost her tongue,]-had deprived her of the proper use of itthey went such different ways, while that talked of the Duke, ebeje were bent on me.


Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.
How easy is it, for the proper false
In women's waxen hearts to set their forms !
Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we;
For, such as we are made of, such we be...
How will this ! fadge? My master loves her dearly;
And I, poor monster, fond as much on him ;
And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me:
What will become of this ? As I am man,
My state is desperate for my master's love :
As I am woman, now alas the day!
What thriftless fighs shall poor Olivia breathe ?
O time, thou must untangle this, not I;
It is too hard a knot for me to untye.


., S C E N E III.

Olivia's House. Enter Sir Toby and Sir Andrew. Sir To. Approach, fir Andrew : 'not to be a-bed after midnight, is to be up betimes ; and diluculo furgere, thou know'ft,

Sir And. Nay, by my troth, I know not : but I know, to be up late, is to be up late.

Sir To. A false conclusion; I hate it as an unfillid can: To be up after midnight, and to go to bed then, is early;

pregnant enemy]—subtle fiend.

p proper falsi in women's waxen hearts to set their forms !]-fair deceivers, handsome counterfeits-to make an impression on them. 9 fadge?]-suit, be reconciled among the parties. “ We will have, if this fadge not, an antick.

Love's LABOUR Lost, Act V, Sc. 1. Arm. s not to be a-bed after midnight, is to be up betimes ;] “ I am glad, I was up fo late ; for that's the reason I was up so early.”


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so that, to go to bed after midnight, is to go to bed be. times. Does not our life consist of the four elements?

Sir And. 'Faith, so they say ; but, I think, it rather consists of eating and drinking.

Sir To. Thou art a scholar; let us therefore eat and drink. -Marian, I say !--'a stoop of wine !

Enter Clown.
Sir And. Here comes the fool, i'faith.

Clo. How now, my hearts ? Did you never see the pic. ture of we three?

Sir To. Welcome, ass. Now let's have a catch.

Sir And. By my troth, the fool has an excellent breaft. I had rather than forty shillings I had such a leg; and so sweet a breath to sing, as the fool has. In sooth, thou wast in very gracious fooling last night, when thou spok'st of Pigrogronitus, of the Vapians passing the equinoctial of Queubus ; 'twas very good, i'faith. I sent thee six-pence for thy leman; Had'st it?

Clo. I w did impericoat thy gratuity ; for Malvolio's nose is no whip-stock: My lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses.

Sir And. Excellent! Why, this is the best fooling, when all is done. Now, a song.

Sir To. Come on ; there is six-pence for you : let's have a song. .

Sir And. There's a testril of me too: if one knight give a

sa ftoop]-a bowl, a faggon.

an excellent breaft.]-great powers of voice. v thy leman; ]-sweetheart.

w did impeticoat thy gratuity ; &c.]-impocket, or gave it to my petticoat companion-impeticos thy gratillity, for though Malvolio may smell out my amour, yet has he not power to punish me for it; my mistress is handsome, and the tap-room an unfit place to treat her at.


Clo. Would you have a love-song, or * a song of good


Sir To. A love-long, a love-long.
Sir And. Ay, ay; I care not for good life.

Clown sings
O mistress mine, where are you roaming ?
O, stay and bear ; your true-love's coming,

That can fing both bigh and low :
Trip no further, pretty sweeting ;
Journeys end in lovers' meeting,

Every wise man's fon doth know.
Sir And. Excellent good, i'faith!

Sir To. Good, good.
Clo. What is love? 'tis not hereafter ;

Present mirth bath present laughter ;. .

What's to come, is still unsure :
In delay there lies no plenty;
Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty,

Youth's a stuff will not endure.

Sir And. A mellifluous voice, as I am a true knight.
Sir To. A contagious breath.
Sir And. Very sweet and contagious, i’faith. ;

Sir To. To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in contagion. But shall we ? make the welkin dance indeed ? Shall we rouze the night-owl in a catch, that will a draw three souls out of one weaver ? shall we do that?

* a song of good life?)—a jovial one, mistaken by Sir Andrew for one of a moral turn.

Y come kiss me, sweet and twenty, youth's a stuf]-give me a kiss,. sweet, give me twenty, for, “ youth's a stuf" &c.

z make the welkin dance)-drink till the sky seem to turn round.

3 draw three fouls out of one weaver ?]-vegetative, sensative, and reasonable. “ Is it not strange that sheep's guts should hale fouls out of men's bodies?

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Sir And. An you love me, fet's do't : I am a dog at a catch.

Clo. By'r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well. Sir And. Most certain : let our catch be, Thou knave.

Clo. Hold thy peace, thou knave, knight? I thall be constrain'd in't to call thee knave, knight.

Sir And. 'Tis not the first time I have constrain'd one to call me knave. Begin, fool; it begins, Hold tby peace.

Clo. I shall never begin, if I hold my peace.
Sir. And. Good, i'faith! come, begin. [Tbey fing a catch.

Enter Maria. Mar. What a catterwauling do you keep here? If my lady have not call'd up her steward, Malvolio, and bid him turn you out of doors, never trust me.

Sir To. My lady's 'a Cataian, we are politicians ; Mal. volio's a · Peg-a-Ramsey, and Three merry men be we. Am not I consanguineous ? am I not of her blood ? Tilly valley, lady! There dwelt a man in Babylon, · lady, lady!

[Singing. Clo. Beshrew me, the knight's in admirable fooling.

Sir And. Ay, he does well enough, if he be dispos'd, and so do I too; he does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural.

Sir To. O, the twelfth day of December,-- [Singing. Mar. For the love o'God, peace.

Enter Malvolio. Mal. My masters, are you mad? or what are you? Have 6 a Cataian,]—a gipsy, a vixen.

c Peg-a-Ramsey, and three merry men be we. ]—The name of one old fong, and a fragment of another-Peggy Ramsey.

Tilly valley, ]-Henry IV, Part II, Ad II, Sc. 4. Hof. fiddle faddle.

e lady, lady!]—the burthen of a ballad, which Maria's mention of her lady brings to Sir Toby's remembrance.


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