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to hear you. If you be not mad, be gone ; if you have reason, be brief: 'tis not that time of the moon with me, to make one in fo kipping a dialogue.

Mar. Will you hoist fail, Sir? here lies your way.

Vio. No, good swabber, I ani to hull here a little longer. Some mollification for your giant, sweet Lady: tell me your mind, I am a messenger.

Oli. Sure, you have some hideous matter to deliver, when the curtesy of it is so fearful. Speak your office.

Vio. It alone concerns your ear. I bring no overture of war, no taxation of homage ; I hold the olive in my hand : my words are as full of peace, as matter.

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 secret as' maiden-head; to your ears, divinity; to any other's, prophanation.

Oli. Give us the place alone. [Èxit Maria.] We will hear this divinity. Now, Sir, what is your text ?

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

Vio. In Orsino's bosom.
Oli. In his bosom? in what chapter of his bosom?

Vio. To answer by the method, in the first of his heart.

Oli. O, I have read it; it is heresy. Have you no more to say ?

Vio. Good madam, let me see your face.

Oli. Have you any commission from your Lord to negotiate with


face ? you are now out of your text; but we will draw the curtain, and shew you the picture. (3) Look you, Sir, such a one I wear this present : is't not well done


Vio (3) Look you, Sir, fucb a one I was this present : is't not well done?] This is nonsense. My correction, I think, clears all up, and gives the expression an air of gallantıy. Viola presses to see Olivia's face: the


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Vio. Excellently done, if God did all.

Oli. 'Tis in grain, Sir; 'twill endure wind and weather.

Vio. 'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white
Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on:
Lady, you are the cruell'ft she alive,

will lead these graces to the grave,
And leave the world no copy:

Oli. O, Sir, I will not be so hard-hearted: I will give out diverse schedules of my beauty. It shall be inventoried, and every particle and utensil labellid to my will. As, Item, two lips in different red. Item, two grey eyes, with lids to them. Item, one neck, one chin, and so forth. Were you sent hither to praise me':

Vio. I see you, what you are ; you are too proud;
But if you were the devil, you are fair.
My Lord and Master loves you: O, such love
Could be but recompens'd, tho' you were crown'd
The non-pareil of beauty!

Oli. How does he love me?

Vło. With adorations, with fertile tears,
With groans that thunder love, with fighs of fire.

Oli. Your Lord does know my mind, I cannot love him;
Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble,
Of great eftate, of fresh and stainless youth;
In voices well divulg'd; free, learn'd, and valiant ;
And in dimension, and the shape of Nature,
A gracious person ; but yet I cannot love him :
He might have took his answer long ago.

Vio. If I did love you in my Master's flame,
With such a suff'ring, such a deadly life,
other at length pulls off her veil, and says'; We will draw the curtain,
and show you the Picture. I wear this complexion to-day, I may wear
another to-morrow; jocularly intimating, that she painted. The other,
vext at the jeft, says, “ Excellently done, if God did all.” Perhaps,

may be true, what you say in jeft: otherwise'tis an excellent face. 'Tis in grain, &c. replies Olivia.

Mr, Warburton.


n your denial I would find no sense :
would not understand it.
Oli. Why, what would you do?

Vio. Make me a willow cabin at your gate,
And call upon my soul within the house
Write royal canto's of contemned love,
And sing them loud even in the dead of night :
:+) Hollow your name to the reverberant hills,
And make the babling goslip of the air
Cry out, Olivia! O you should not reft
Between the elements of air and earth,
Dut you should pity me.

Oli. You might do much :
What is your parentage ?

Vio. Above my fortunes, yet my Itate is wel I am a gentleman.

Oli. Get you to your Lord ; cannot love him: let him send no more ; Jnless, perchance, you come to me again, [o tell me how he takes it ; fare


well : i thank you for your pains ; spend this for me.

Vio. I am no feed poft, Lady; keep your purse:
My master, not myself, lacks recompence.
Love makes his heart of flint, that you shall love,
And let your fervour, like my Master's, be
Plac'd in contempt! farewel, fair cruelty. [Exit.

Oli. What is your parentage?
Above my fortunes, yet my state is well : -
I am a gentleman

Pill be sworn thou art.
Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit,
Do give thee five-fold blazon- not too fast-soft soft!
Unless the master were the man,- How now?
Even so quickly may one catch the plague?
Methinks, I feel this youth's perfections,
With an invisible and subtile stealth,

(4) Hollow your name to ibe reverberate bills.) I have, again it the auth'rity of the printed copies, corrected, reverberam. The adjective paflive makes nonsense,


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To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be
What ho, Malvolio,

Enter Malvolio.
Mal. Here, Madam, at your service.

Oli. Ruïn after that same peevish messenger,
The Duke's man; he left this ring behind him,
Would I, or not: tell him, I'll none of it.
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, l'il give him reasons for't. Hye thee, Malvolio. Mal, Madam, I will.

(Exit. Bli. 'I do, I know not what ; and fear to find Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind : Fate, thew thy force; ourselves we do not owe ; i What is decreed, muft be; and be this fo! [Exit.

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S. CE N E, the STREET.

Enter Antonio and Sebaftian.


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you !

me :

ILL you stay no longer ? nor will you not, that

with Seb. By your patience, no: my stars shine dark, ly over the malignancy of my fate might, perhaps, distemper yours ; therefore I fall trave of you your leave, that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad recompence for your love, to lay any of

Ant. Let me yet know of you, whither you are Bound? Seb. No, footh, Sir; my determinate voyage is mere * VOL. III.


them on you:


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 express myself: you muft know of me then, Antonio, my name is Sebaftian, which I call'd Rodorigo ; my father was that Sebastian of Mefjaline, whom, I know, you have heard of. He left behind him, myself, and a fifter, both born in one hour; if the heav'ns had been pleas’d, would we had to ended ! but you, Sir, alter'd chat; for, fome hour before you took me from the breach of the sea, was my filter drown'd. Ant. Alas, the day !

Seb. A Lady, Sir, tho' it was faid the much relembled me, was yet of many accounted beautiful; but cho' I could not with such eftimable wonder over-far believe that, yet thus far I will boldly publish her, the bore a mind that envy could not but call fair : The is drown'd already, Sir, with salt water, tho' I seem 20 drown her remembrance again with more.

Ant. Pardon me, Sir, your bad entertainment.
Seb. O good Antonio, forgive me your trouble.

Ant. If you will not murder me for my love, let me be your

servant. Šeb. 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 so near the manners of my mother, that upon the leaf occafion more, mine eyes will tell tales of me: I am bound to the Duke Orfino's court; fare. wel.

(Exit. Ant. The gentleness of all the gods go with thee ! I have made enemies in Orhino's court, Else would I very shortly see thee there : But come what may, I do adore thec so, That danger shall seem sport, and I will go. (Exit.

Enter Viola and Malvolio, at several doors. Mal. Were not you e'en now with the Countera hvia ?

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