The Bodleian First Folio

A digital facsimile of the First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Bodleian Arch. G c.7.



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Reference: Y3r - Comedies, p. 257

Left Column


Twelfe Night, or, What you will. And.

Ile stay a moneth longer. I am a fellow o'th

strangest minde i'th world: I delight in Maskes and Re­

uels sometimes altogether.

To.

Art thou good at these kicke‑chawses Knight ?

And.
[215]

As any man in Illyria, whatsoeuer he be, vnder

the degree of my betters, & yet I will not compare with

an old man.

To.

What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight?

And.

Faith, I can cut a caper.

To.
[220]

And I can cut the Mutton too't.

And.

And I thinke I haue the backe‑tricke, simply as

strong as any man in Illyria.

To.

Wherefore are these things hid? Wherefore haue

these gifts a Curtaine before 'em? Are they like to take

[225]

dust, like mistris Mals picture? Why dost thou not goe

to Church in a Galliard, and come home in a Carranto ?

My verie walke should be a Iigge: I would not so much

as make water but in a Sinke‑a‑pace: What dooest thou

meane? Is it a world to hide vertues in? I did thinke by

[230]

the excellent constitution of thy legge, it was form'd vn­

der the starre of a Galliard.

And.

I, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent well in a

dam'd colour'd stocke. Shall we sit about some Reuels?

To.

What shall we do else: were we not borne vnder

[235]

Taurus?

And.

Taurus? That sides and heart.

To.

No sir, it is leggs and thighes: let me see thee ca­

per. Ha, higher: ha, ha, excellent.

Exeunt.
Scena Quarta. [Act 1, Scene 4] Enter Valentine, and Viola in mans attire. Val.

If the Duke continue these fauours towards you

[240]

Cesario, you are like to be much aduanc'd, he hath known

you but three dayes, and already you are no stranger.

Vio.

You either feare his humour, or my negligence,

that you call in question the continuance of his loue. Is

he inconstant sir, in his fauours.

Val.
[245]

No beleeue me.

Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants. Vio.

I thanke you: heere comes the Count.

Duke.

Who saw Cesario hoa?

Vio.

On your attendance my Lord heere.

Du. Stand you a‑while aloofe. Cesario,
[250]
Thou knowst no lesse, but all: I haue vnclasp'd To thee the booke euen of my secret soule. Therefore good youth, addresse thy gate vnto her, Be not deni'de accesse, stand at her doores, And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow
[255]
Till thou haue audience
Vio. Sure my Noble Lord, If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow As it is spoke, she neuer will admit me. Du. Be clamorous, and leape all ciuill bounds,
[260]
Rather then make vnprofited returne,
Vio.

Say I do speake with her (my Lord) what then?

Du. O then, vnfold the passion of my loue, Surprize her with discourse of my deere faith; It shall become thee well to act my woes:
[265]
She will attend it better in thy youth, Then in a Nuntio's of more graue aspect.
Vio.

I thinke not so, my Lord.

Du. Deere Lad, beleeue it;

Right Column


For they shall yet belye thy happy yeeres,
[270]
That say thou art a man: Dianas lip Is not more smooth, and rubious: thy small pipe Is as the maidens organ, shrill, and sound, And all is semblatiue a womans part. I know thy constellation is right apt
[275]
For this affayre: some foure or fiue attend him, All if you will: for I my selfe am best When least in companie: prosper well in this, And thou shalt liue as freely as thy Lord, To call his fortunes thine.
Vio.
[280]
Ile do my best To woe your Lady: yet a barrefull strife, Who ere I woe, my selfe would be his wife.
Exeunt.
Scena Quinta. [Act 1, Scene 5] Enter Maria, and Clowne. Ma.

Nay, either tell me where thou hast bin, or I will

not open my lippes so wide as a brissle may enter, in way

[285]

of thy excuse: my Lady will hang thee for thy absence.

Clo.

Let her hang me: hee that is well hang'de in this

world, needs to feare no colours.

Ma.

Make that good.

Clo.

He shall see none to feare.

Ma.
[290]

A good lenton answer: I can tell thee where y t

saying was borne, of I feare no colours.

Clo.

Where good mistris Mary?

Ma.

In the warrs, & that may you be bolde to say in

your foolerie.

Clo.
[295]

Well, God giue them wisedome that haue it: &

those that are fooles, let them vse their talents.

Ma.

Yet you will be hang'd for being so long absent,

or to be turn'd away: is not that as good as a h nging to

you?

Clo.
[300]

Many a good hanging, preuents a bad marriage:

and for turning away, let summer beare it out.

Ma.

You are resolute then?

Clo.

Not so neyther, but I am resolu'd on two points

Ma.

That if one breake, the other will hold: or if both

[305]

breake, your gaskins fall.

Clo.

Apt in good faith, very apt: well go thy way, if

sir Toby would leaue drinking, thou wert as witty a piece

of Eues flesh, as any in Illyria.

Ma.

Peace you rogue, no more o'that: here comes my

[310]

Lady: make your excuse wisely, you were best.

Enter Lady Oliuia, with Maluolio. Clo.

Wit, and't be thy will, put me into good fooling:

those wits that thinke they haue thee, doe very oft proue

fooles: and I that am sure I lacke thee, may passe for a

wise man. For what saies Quinapalus, Better a witty foole,

[315]

then a foolish wit. God blesse thee Lady.

Ol.

Take the foole away.

Clo.

Do you not heare fellowes, take away the Ladie.

Ol.

Go too, y'are a dry foole: Ile no more of you: be­

sides you grow dis‑honest.

Clo.
[320]

Two faults Madona, that drinke & good counsell

wil amend: for giue the dry foole drink, then is the foole

not dry: bid the dishonest man mend himself, if he mend,

he is no longer dishonest; if hee cannot, let the Botcher

mend him: any thing that's mended, is but patch'd: vertu

[325]

that transgresses, is but patcht with sinne, and sin that a­

mends, is but patcht with vertue. If that this simple

Sillogisme will serue, so: if it will not, vvhat what remedy?

Y3 As

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Scena Quinta. [Act 1, Scene 5] Enter Maria, and Clowne. Ma.

Nay, either tell me where thou hast bin, or I will

not open my lippes so wide as a brissle may enter, in way

[285]

of thy excuse: my Lady will hang thee for thy absence.

Clo.

Let her hang me: hee that is well hang'de in this

world, needs to feare no colours.

Ma.

Make that good.

Clo.

He shall see none to feare.

Ma.
[290]

A good lenton answer: I can tell thee where y t

saying was borne, of I feare no colours.

Clo.

Where good mistris Mary?

Ma.

In the warrs, & that may you be bolde to say in

your foolerie.

Clo.
[295]

Well, God giue them wisedome that haue it: &

those that are fooles, let them vse their talents.

Ma.

Yet you will be hang'd for being so long absent,

or to be turn'd away: is not that as good as a h nging to

you?

Clo.
[300]

Many a good hanging, preuents a bad marriage:

and for turning away, let summer beare it out.

Ma.

You are resolute then?

Clo.

Not so neyther, but I am resolu'd on two points

Ma.

That if one breake, the other will hold: or if both

[305]

breake, your gaskins fall.

Clo.

Apt in good faith, very apt: well go thy way, if

sir Toby would leaue drinking, thou wert as witty a piece

of Eues flesh, as any in Illyria.

Ma.

Peace you rogue, no more o'that: here comes my

[310]

Lady: make your excuse wisely, you were best.

Enter Lady Oliuia, with Maluolio. Clo.

Wit, and't be thy will, put me into good fooling:

those wits that thinke they haue thee, doe very oft proue

fooles: and I that am sure I lacke thee, may passe for a

wise man. For what saies Quinapalus, Better a witty foole,

[315]

then a foolish wit. God blesse thee Lady.

Ol.

Take the foole away.

Clo.

Do you not heare fellowes, take away the Ladie.

Ol.

Go too, y'are a dry foole: Ile no more of you: be­

sides you grow dis‑honest.

Clo.
[320]

Two faults Madona, that drinke & good counsell

wil amend: for giue the dry foole drink, then is the foole

not dry: bid the dishonest man mend himself, if he mend,

he is no longer dishonest; if hee cannot, let the Botcher

mend him: any thing that's mended, is but patch'd: vertu

[325]

that transgresses, is but patcht with sinne, and sin that a­

mends, is but patcht with vertue. If that this simple

Sillogisme will serue, so: if it will not, vvhat what remedy?

As there is no true Cuckold but calamity, so beauties a

flower; The Lady bad take away the foole, therefore I

[330]

say againe, take her away.

Ol.

Sir, I bad them take away you.

Clo.

Misprision in the highest degree. Lady, Cucullus non facit monachum : that's as much to say, as I weare not

motley in my braine: good Madona, giue mee leaue to

[335]

proue you a foole.

Ol.

Can you do it ?

Clo.

Dexteriously, good Madona.

Ol.

Make your proofe.

Clo.

I must catechize you for it Madona, Good my

[340]

Mouse of vertue answer mee.

Ol.

Well sir, for want of other idlenesse, Ile bide your

proofe.

Clo.

Good Madona, why mournst thou?

Ol.

Good foole, for my brothers death.

Clo.
[345]

I thinke his soule is in hell, Madona.

Ol.

I know his soule is in heauen, foole.

Clo.

The more foole (Madona) to mourne for your

Brothers soule, being in heauen. Take away the Foole,

Gentlemen.

Ol.
[350]

What thinke you of this foole Maluolio, doth he

not mend?

Mal.

Yes, and shall do, till the pangs of death shake

him: Infirmity that decaies the wise, doth euer make the

better foole.

Clow.
[355]

God send you sir, a speedie Infirmity, for the

better increasing your folly: Sir Toby will be sworn that

I am no Fox, but he wil not passe his word for two pence

that you are no Foole.

Ol.

How say you to that Maluolio?

Mal.
[360]

I maruell your Ladyship takes delight in such

a barren rascall: I saw him put down the other day, with

an ordinary foole, that has no more braine then a stone.

Looke you now, he's out of his gard already: vnles you

laugh and minister occasion to him, he is gag'd. I protest

[365]

I take these Wisemen, that crow so at these set kinde of

fooles, no better then the fooles Zanies.

Ol.

O you are sicke of selfe‑loue Maluolio, and taste

with a distemper'd appetite. To be generous, guiltlesse,

and of free disposition, is to take those things for Bird‑

[370]

bolts, that you deeme Cannon bullets: There is no slan­

der in an allow'd foole, though he do nothing but rayle;

nor no rayling, in a knowne discreet man, though hee do

nothing but reproue.

Clo.

Now Mercury indue thee with leasing, for thou

[375]

speak'st well of fooles.

Enter Maria. Mar.

Madam, there is at the gate, a young Gentle­

man, much desires to speake with you.

Ol.

From the Count Orsino, is it?

Ma

I know not (Madam) 'tis a faire young man, and

[380]

well attended.

Ol.

Who of my people hold him in delay?

Ma.

Sir Toby Madam, your kinsman.

Ol.

Fetch him off I pray you, he speakes nothing but

madman: Fie on him. Go you Maluolio; If it be a suit

[385]

from the Count, I am sicke, or not at home. What you

will, to dismisse it.

Exit Maluo.

Now you see sir, how your fooling growes old, & peo­

ple dislike it.

Clo.

Thou hast spoke for vs (Madona) as if thy eldest

[390]

sonne should be a foole: who se scull, Ioue cramme with

braines, for heere he comes.

Enter Sir Toby.

One of thy kin has a most weake Pia‑mater.

Ol.

By mine honor halfe drunke. What is he at the

gate Cosin?

To.
[395]

A Gentleman.

Ol.

A Gentleman? What Gentleman?

To.

'Tis a Gentleman heere. A plague o'these pickle

herring: How now Sot.

Clo.

Good Sir Toby.

Ol.
[400]

Cosin, Cosin, how haue you come so earely by

this Lethargie?

To.

Letcherie, I defie Letchery: there's one at the

gate.

Ol.

I marry, what is he?

To.
[405]

Let him be the diuell and he will, I care not: giue

me faith say I. Well, it's all one.

Exit Ol.

What's a drunken man like, foole?

Clo.

Like a drown'd man, a foole, and a madde man:

One draught aboue heate, makes him a foole, the second

[410]

maddes him, and a third drownes him.

Ol.

Go thou and seeke the Crowner, and let him sitte

o'my Coz: for he's in the third degree of drinke: hee's

drown'd: go looke after him.

Clo.

He is but mad yet Madona, and the foole shall

[415]

looke to the madman.

Enter Maluolio. Mal.

Madam, yond young fellow sweares hee will

speake with you. I told him you were sicke, he takes on

him to vnderstand so much, and therefore comes to speak

with you. I told him you were asleepe, he seems to haue

[420]

a fore knowledge of that too, and therefore comes to

speake with you. What is to be said to him Ladie, hee's

fortified against any deniall.

Ol.

Tell him, he shall not speake with me.

Mal.

Ha's beene told so: and hee sayes hee'l stand at

[425]

your doore like a Sheriffes post, and be the supporter to

a bench, but hee'l speake with you.

Ol.

What kinde o'man is he?

Mal.

Why of mankinde.

Ol.

What manner of man?

Mal.
[430]

Of verie ill manner: hee'l speake with you, will

you, or no.

Ol.

Of what personage, and yeeres is he ?

Mal.

Not yet old enough for a man, nor yong enough

for a boy: as a squash is before tis a pescod, or a Codling

[435]

when tis almost an Apple: Tis with him in standing wa­

ter, betweene boy and man. He is verie well‑fauour'd,

and he speakes verie shrewishly: One would thinke his

mothers milke were scarse out of him.

Ol.

Let him approach: Call in my Gentlewoman.

Mal.
[440]

Gentlewoman, my Lady calles.

Exit. Enter Maria. Ol. Giue me my vaile: come throw it ore my face, Wee'l once more heare Orsinos Embassie. Enter Violenta. Vio.

The honorable Ladie of the house, which is she?

Ol.

Speake to me, I shall answer for her: your will.

Vio.
[445]

Most radiant, exquisite, and vnmatchable beau­

tie. I pray you tell me if this bee the Lady of the house,

for I neuer saw her. I would bee loath to cast away my

speech: for besides that it is excellently well pend, I haue

taken great paines to con it. Good Beauties, let mee su­

[450]

staine no scorne; I am very comptible, euen to the least

sinister vsage.

Ol.

Whence came you sir?

Vio.

I can say little more then I haue studied, & that

question's out of my part. Good gentle one, giue mee

[455]

modest assurance, if you be the Ladie of the house, that

I may proceede in my speech.

Ol.

Are you a Comedian?

Vio.

No my profound heart: and yet (by the verie

phangs of malice, I sweare) I am not that I play. Are you

[460]

the Ladie of the house?

Ol.

If I do not vsurpe my selfe, I am.

Vio.

Most certaine, if you are she, you do vsurp your

selfe: for what is yours to bestowe, is, not yours to re­

serue. But this is from my Commission: I will on with

[465]

my speech in your praise, and then shew you the heart of

my message.

Ol.

Come to what is important in't: I forgiue you

the praise.

Vio.

Alas, I tooke great paines to studie it, and 'tis

[470]

Poeticall.

Ol.

It is the more like to be feigned, I pray you keep

it in. I heard you were sawcy at my gates, & allowd your

approach rather to wonder at you, then to heare you. If

you be not mad, be gone: if you haue reason, be breefe:

[475]

'tis not that time of Moone with me, to make one in so

skipping a dialogue.

Ma.

Will you hoyst sayle sir, here lies your way.

Vio.

No good swabber, I am to hull here a little lon­

ger. Some mollification for your Giant, sweete Ladie;

[480]

tell me your minde, I am a messenger.

Ol.

Sure you haue some hiddeous matter to deliuer,

when the curtesie of it is so fearefull. Speake your office.

Vio.

It alone concernes your eare: I bring no ouer­

ture of warre, no taxation of homage; I hold the Olyffe

[485]

in my hand: my words are as full of peace, as matter.

Ol.

Yet you began rudely. What are you?

What would you

Vio.

The rudenesse that hath appear'd in mee, haue I

learn'd from my entertainment. What I am, and what I

[490]

would, are as secret as maiden‑head: to your eares, Di­

uinity; to any others, prophanation.

Ol.

Giue vs the place alone,

We will heare this diuinitie. Now sir, what is your text?

Vio.

Most sweet Ladie.

Ol.
[495]

A comfortable doctrine, and much may bee saide

of it. Where lies your Text?

Vio.

In Orsinoes bosome.

Ol.

In his bosome ? In what chapter of his bosome?

Vio.

To answer by the method in the first of his hart.

Ol.
[500]

O, I haue read it: it is heresie. Haue you no more

to say?

Vio.

Good Madam, let me see your face.

Ol.

Haue you any Commission from your Lord, to

negotiate with my face: you are now out of your Text:

[505]

but we will draw the Curtain, and shew you the picture.

Looke you sir, such a one I was this present: Ist not well

done?

Vio.

Excellently done, if God did all.

Ol.

'Tis in graine sir, 'twill endure winde and wea­

[510]

ther.

Vio. Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white, Natures owne sweet, and cunning hand laid on: Lady, you are the cruell'st shee aliue, If you will leade these graces to the graue,
[515]
And leaue the world no copie.
Ol.

O sir, I will not be so hard‑hearted: I will giue

out diuers scedules of my beautie. It shalbe Inuentoried

and euery particle and vtensile labell'd to my will: As,

Item two lippes indifferent redde, Item two grey eyes,

[520]

with lids to them: Item, one necke, one chin, & 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 diuell, you are faire: My Lord, and master loues you: O such loue
[525]
Could be but recompenc'd, though you were crown'd The non‑pareil of beautie.
Ol.

How does he loue me?

Vio. With adorations, fertill teares, With groanes that thunder loue, with sighes of fire. Ol.
[530]
Your Lord does know my mind, I cannot loue him Yet I suppose him vertuous, know him noble, Of great estate, of fresh and stainlesse youth; In voyces well divulg'd, free, learn'd, and valiant, And in dimension, and the shape of nature,
[535]
A gracious person; But yet I cannot loue him: He might haue tooke his answer long ago.
Vio. If I did loue you in my masters flame, With such a suffring, such a deadly life: In your deniall, I would finde no sence,
[540]
I would not vnderstand it.
Ol.

Why, what would you?

Vio. Make me a willow Cabine at your gate, And call vpon my soule within the house, Write loyall Cantons of contemned loue,
[545]
And sing them lowd euen in the dead of night: Hallow your name to the reuerberate hilles, And make the babling Gossip of the aire, Cry out Oliuia: O you should not rest Betweene the elements of ayre, and earth,
[550]
But you should pittie me.
Ol. You might do much: What is your Parentage ? Vio. Aboue my fortunes, yet my state is well: I am a Gentleman. Ol.
[555]
Get you to your Lord: I cannot loue him: let him send no more, Vnlesse (perchance) you come to me againe, To tell me how he takes it: Fare you well: I thanke you for your paines: spend this for mee.
Vio.
[560]
I am no feede poast, Lady; keepe your purse, My Master, not my selfe, lackes recompence. Loue make his heart of flint, that you shal loue, And let your feruour like my masters be, Plac'd in contempt: Farwell fayre crueltie.
Exit Ol.
[565]
What is your Parentage? Aboue my fortunes, yet my state is well; I am a Gentleman. Ile be sworne thou art, Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbes, actions, and spirit, Do giue thee fiue‑fold blazon: not too fast: soft, soft,
[570]
Vnlesse the Master were the man. How now? Euen so quickly may one catch the plague? Me thinkes I feele this youths perfections With an inuisible, and subtle stealth To creepe in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.
[575]
What hoa, Maluolio.
Enter Maluolio. Mal.

Heere Madam, at your seruice.

Ol. Run after that same peeuish Messenger The Countes man: he left this Ring behinde him Would I, or not: tell him, Ile none of it.
[580]
Desire him not to flatter with his Lord, Nor hold him vp with hopes, I am not for him: If that the youth will come this way to morrow, Ile giue him reasons for't: hie thee Maluolio.
Mal. Madam, I will. Exit. Ol.
[585]
I do I know not what, and feare to finde Mine eye too great a flatterer for my minde: Fate, shew thy force, our selues we do not owe, What is decreed, must be: and be this so.
 

Download the digital text of the play

                                
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   <head rend="italic center">Scena Quinta.</head>
   <head type="supplied">[Act 1, Scene 5]</head>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Maria, and Clowne.</stage>
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      <speaker rend="italic">Ma.</speaker>
      <p n="283">Nay, either tell me where thou hast bin, or I will
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   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-fes">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="300">Many a good hanging, preuents a bad marriage:
      <lb n="301"/>and for turning away, let summer beare it out.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-mar">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ma.</speaker>
      <p n="302">You are resolute then?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-fes">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="303">Not so neyther, but I am resolu'd on two points</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-mar">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ma.</speaker>
      <p n="304">That if one breake, the other will hold: or if both
      <lb n="305"/>breake, your gaskins fall.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-fes">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="306">Apt in good faith, very apt: well go thy way, if
      <lb n="307"/>sir<hi rend="italic">Toby</hi>would leaue drinking, thou wert as witty a piece
      <lb n="308"/>of<hi rend="italic">Eues</hi>flesh, as any in Illyria.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-mar">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ma.</speaker>
      <p n="309">Peace you rogue, no more o'that: here comes my
      <lb n="310"/>
         <hi rend="italic">Lady</hi>: make your excuse wisely, you were best.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Lady Oliuia, with Maluolio.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-tn-fes">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="311">Wit, and't be thy will, put me into good fooling:
      <lb n="312"/>those wits that thinke they haue thee, doe very oft proue
      <lb n="313"/>fooles: and I that am sure I lacke thee, may passe for a
      <lb n="314"/>wise man. For what saies<hi rend="italic">Quinapalus</hi>, Better a witty foole,
      <lb n="315"/>then a foolish wit. God blesse thee Lady.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="316">Take the foole away.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-fes">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="317">Do you not heare fellowes, take away the Ladie.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="318">Go too, y'are a dry foole: Ile no more of you: be­
      <lb n="319"/>sides you grow dis‑honest.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-fes">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="320">Two faults Madona, that drinke &amp; good counsell
      <lb n="321"/>wil amend: for giue the dry foole drink, then is the foole
      <lb n="322"/>not dry: bid the dishonest man mend himself, if he mend,
      <lb n="323"/>he is no longer dishonest; if hee cannot, let the Botcher
      <lb n="324"/>mend him: any thing that's mended, is but patch'd: vertu
      <lb n="325"/>that transgresses, is but patcht with sinne, and sin that a­
      <lb n="326"/>mends, is but patcht with vertue. If that this simple
      <lb n="327"/>Sillogisme will serue, so: if it will not,<choice>
            <orig>vvhat</orig>
            <corr>what</corr>
         </choice>remedy?</p>
      <pb facs="FFimg:axc0278-0.jpg" n="258"/>
      <cb n="1"/>
      <p n="328">As there is no true Cuckold but calamity, so beauties a
      <lb n="329"/>flower; The Lady bad take away the foole, therefore I
      <lb n="330"/>say againe, take her away.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="331">Sir, I bad them take away you.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-fes">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="332">Misprision in the highest degree. Lady,<hi rend="italic">Cucullus
      <lb n="333"/>non facit monachum</hi>: that's as much to say, as I weare not
      <lb n="334"/>motley in my braine: good<hi rend="italic">Madona</hi>, giue mee leaue to
      <lb n="335"/>proue you a foole.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="336">Can you do it<c rend="italic">?</c>
      </p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-fes">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="337">Dexteriously, good Madona.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="338">Make your proofe.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-fes">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="339">I must catechize you for it Madona, Good my
      <lb n="340"/>Mouse of vertue answer mee.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="341">Well sir, for want of other idlenesse, Ile bide your
      <lb n="342"/>proofe.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-fes">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="343">Good Madona, why mournst thou?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="344">Good foole, for my brothers death.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-fes">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="345">I thinke his soule is in hell, Madona.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="346">I know his soule is in heauen, foole.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-fes">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="347">The more foole (Madona) to mourne for your
      <lb n="348"/>Brothers soule, being in heauen. Take away the Foole,
      <lb n="349"/>Gentlemen.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="350">What thinke you of this foole<hi rend="italic">Maluolio</hi>, doth he
      <lb n="351"/>not mend?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-mal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mal.</speaker>
      <p n="352">Yes, and shall do, till the pangs of death shake
      <lb n="353"/>him: Infirmity that decaies the wise, doth euer make the
      <lb n="354"/>better foole.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-fes">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clow.</speaker>
      <p n="355">God send you sir, a speedie Infirmity, for the
      <lb n="356"/>better increasing your folly: Sir<hi rend="italic">Toby</hi>will be sworn that
      <lb n="357"/>I am no Fox, but he wil not passe his word for two pence
      <lb n="358"/>that you are no Foole.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="359">How say you to that<hi rend="italic">Maluolio</hi>?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-mal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mal.</speaker>
      <p n="360">I maruell your Ladyship takes delight in such
      <lb n="361"/>a barren rascall: I saw him put down the other day, with
      <lb n="362"/>an ordinary foole, that has no more braine then a stone.
      <lb n="363"/>Looke you now, he's out of his gard already: vnles you
      <lb n="364"/>laugh and minister occasion to him, he is gag'd. I protest
      <lb n="365"/>I take these Wisemen, that crow so at these set kinde of
      <lb n="366"/>fooles, no better then the fooles Zanies.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="367">O you are sicke of selfe‑loue<hi rend="italic">Maluolio</hi>, and taste
      <lb n="368"/>with a distemper'd appetite. To be generous, guiltlesse,
      <lb n="369"/>and of free disposition, is to take those things for Bird‑
      <lb n="370"/>bolts, that you deeme Cannon bullets: There is no slan­
      <lb n="371"/>der in an allow'd foole, though he do nothing but rayle;
      <lb n="372"/>nor no rayling, in a knowne discreet man, though hee do
      <lb n="373"/>nothing but reproue.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-fes">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="374">Now Mercury indue thee with leasing, for thou
      <lb n="375"/>speak'st well of fooles.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Maria.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-tn-mar">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mar.</speaker>
      <p n="376">Madam, there is at the gate, a young Gentle­
      <lb n="377"/>man, much desires to speake with you.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="378">From the Count<hi rend="italic">Orsino</hi>, is it?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-mar">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ma</speaker>
      <p n="379">I know not (Madam) 'tis a faire young man, and
      <lb n="380"/>well attended.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="381">Who of my people hold him in delay?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-mar">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ma.</speaker>
      <p n="382">Sir<hi rend="italic">Toby</hi>Madam, your kinsman.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="383">Fetch him off I pray you, he speakes nothing but
      <lb n="384"/>madman: Fie on him. Go you<hi rend="italic">Maluolio</hi>; If it be a<gap extent="1"
              unit="chars"
              reason="nonstandardCharacter"
              agent="inkedSpacemarker"
              resp="#ES"/>suit
      <lb n="385"/>from the Count, I am sicke, or not at home. What you
      <lb n="386"/>will, to dismisse it.</p>
      <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit Maluo.</stage>
      <p n="387">Now you see sir, how your fooling growes old, &amp; peo­
      <lb n="388"/>ple dislike it.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-fes">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="389">Thou hast spoke for vs (Madona) as if thy eldest
      <lb n="390"/>sonne should be a foole: who se scull, Ioue cramme with
      <lb n="391"/>braines, for heere he comes.</p>
      <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Sir Toby.</stage>
      <p n="392">One of thy kin has a most weake<hi rend="italic">Pia‑mater</hi>.</p>
   </sp>
   <cb n="2"/>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="393">By mine honor halfe drunke. What is he at the
      <lb n="394"/>gate Cosin?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-tob">
      <speaker rend="italic">To.</speaker>
      <p n="395">A Gentleman.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="396">A Gentleman? What Gentleman?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-tob">
      <speaker rend="italic">To.</speaker>
      <p n="397">'Tis a Gentleman heere. A plague o'these pickle
      <lb n="398"/>herring: How now Sot.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-fes">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="399">Good Sir<hi rend="italic">Toby</hi>.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="400">Cosin, Cosin, how haue you come so earely by
      <lb n="401"/>this Lethargie?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-tob">
      <speaker rend="italic">To.</speaker>
      <p n="402">Letcherie, I defie Letchery: there's one at the
      <lb n="403"/>gate.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="404">I marry, what is he?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-tob">
      <speaker rend="italic">To.</speaker>
      <p n="405">Let him be the diuell and he will, I care not: giue
      <lb n="406"/>me faith say I. Well, it's all one.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit</stage>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="407">What's a drunken man like, foole?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-fes">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="408">Like a drown'd man, a foole, and a madde man:
      <lb n="409"/>One draught aboue heate, makes him a foole, the second
      <lb n="410"/>maddes him, and a third drownes him.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="411">Go thou and seeke the Crowner, and let him sitte
      <lb n="412"/>o'my Coz: for he's in the third degree of drinke: hee's
      <lb n="413"/>drown'd: go looke after him.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-fes">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="414">He is but mad yet Madona, and the foole shall
      <lb n="415"/>looke to the madman.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Maluolio.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-tn-mal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mal.</speaker>
      <p n="416">Madam, yond young fellow sweares hee will
      <lb n="417"/>speake with you. I told him you were sicke, he takes on
      <lb n="418"/>him to vnderstand so much, and therefore comes to speak
      <lb n="419"/>with you. I told him you were asleepe, he seems to haue
      <lb n="420"/>a fore knowledge of that too, and therefore comes to
      <lb n="421"/>speake with you. What is to be said to him Ladie, hee's
      <lb n="422"/>fortified against any deniall.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="423">Tell him, he shall not speake with me.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-mal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mal.</speaker>
      <p n="424">Ha's beene told so: and hee sayes hee'l stand at
      <lb n="425"/>your doore like a Sheriffes post, and be the supporter to
      <lb n="426"/>a bench, but hee'l speake with you.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="427">What kinde o'man is he?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-mal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mal.</speaker>
      <p n="428">Why of mankinde.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="429">What manner of man?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-mal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mal.</speaker>
      <p n="430">Of verie ill manner: hee'l speake with you, will
      <lb n="431"/>you, or no.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="432">Of what personage, and yeeres is he<c rend="italic">?</c>
      </p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-mal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mal.</speaker>
      <p n="433">Not yet old enough for a man, nor yong enough
      <lb n="434"/>for a boy: as a squash is before tis a pescod, or a Codling
      <lb n="435"/>when tis almost an Apple: Tis with him in standing wa­
      <lb n="436"/>ter, betweene boy and man. He is verie well‑fauour'd,
      <lb n="437"/>and he speakes verie shrewishly: One would thinke his
      <lb n="438"/>mothers milke were scarse out of him.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="439">Let him approach: Call in my Gentlewoman.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-mal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mal.</speaker>
      <p n="440">Gentlewoman, my Lady calles.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Maria.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <l n="441">Giue me my vaile: come throw it ore my face,</l>
      <l n="442">Wee'l once more heare<hi rend="italic">Orsinos</hi>Embassie.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Violenta.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-tn-vio">
      <speaker rend="italic">Vio.</speaker>
      <p n="443">The honorable Ladie of the house, which is she?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="444">Speake to me, I shall answer for her: your will.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-vio">
      <speaker rend="italic">Vio.</speaker>
      <p n="445">Most radiant, exquisite, and vnmatchable beau­
      <lb n="446"/>tie. I pray you tell me if this bee the Lady of the house,
      <lb n="447"/>for I neuer saw her. I would bee loath to cast away my
      <lb n="448"/>speech: for besides that it is excellently well pend, I haue
      <lb n="449"/>taken great paines to con it. Good Beauties, let mee su­
      <lb n="450"/>staine no scorne; I am very comptible, euen to the least
      <lb n="451"/>sinister vsage.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="452">Whence came you sir?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-vio">
      <speaker rend="italic">Vio.</speaker>
      <p n="453">I can say little more then I haue studied, &amp; that
      <lb n="454"/>question's out of my part. Good gentle one, giue mee
      <lb n="455"/>modest assurance, if you be the Ladie of the house, that</p>
      <pb facs="FFimg:axc0279-0.jpg" n="259"/>
      <cb n="1"/>
      <p n="456">I may proceede in my speech.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="457">Are you a Comedian?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-vio">
      <speaker rend="italic">Vio.</speaker>
      <p n="458">No my profound heart: and yet (by the verie
      <lb n="459"/>phangs of malice, I sweare) I am not that I play. Are you
      <lb n="460"/>the Ladie of the house?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="461">If I do not vsurpe my selfe, I am.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-vio">
      <speaker rend="italic">Vio.</speaker>
      <p n="462">Most certaine, if you are she, you do vsurp your
      <lb n="463"/>selfe: for what is yours to bestowe, is, not yours to re­
      <lb n="464"/>serue. But this is from my Commission: I will on with
      <lb n="465"/>my speech in your praise, and then shew you the heart of
      <lb n="466"/>my message.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="467">Come to what is important in't: I forgiue you
      <lb n="468"/>the praise.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-vio">
      <speaker rend="italic">Vio.</speaker>
      <p n="469">Alas, I tooke great paines to studie it, and 'tis
      <lb n="470"/>Poeticall.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="471">It is the more like to be feigned, I pray you keep
      <lb n="472"/>it in. I heard you were sawcy at my gates, &amp; allowd your
      <lb n="473"/>approach rather to wonder at you, then to heare you. If
      <lb n="474"/>you be not mad, be gone: if you haue reason, be breefe:
      <lb n="475"/>'tis not that time of Moone with me, to make one in so
      <lb n="476"/>skipping a dialogue.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-mar">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ma.</speaker>
      <p n="477">Will you hoyst sayle sir, here lies your way.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-vio">
      <speaker rend="italic">Vio.</speaker>
      <p n="478">No good swabber, I am to hull here a little lon­
      <lb n="479"/>ger. Some mollification for your Giant, sweete Ladie;
      <lb n="480"/>tell me your minde, I am a messenger.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="481">Sure you haue some hiddeous matter to deliuer,
      <lb n="482"/>when the curtesie of it is so fearefull. Speake your office.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-vio">
      <speaker rend="italic">Vio.</speaker>
      <p n="483">It alone concernes your eare: I bring no ouer­
      <lb n="484"/>ture of warre, no taxation of homage; I hold the Olyffe
      <lb n="485"/>in my hand: my words are as full of peace, as matter.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="486">Yet you began rudely. What are you?
      <lb n="487"/>What would you<gap/>
      </p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-vio">
      <speaker rend="italic">Vio.</speaker>
      <p n="488">The rudenesse that hath appear'd in mee, haue I
      <lb n="489"/>learn'd from my entertainment. What I am, and what I
      <lb n="490"/>would, are as secret as maiden‑head: to your eares, Di­
      <lb n="491"/>uinity; to any others, prophanation.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="492">Giue vs the place alone,</p>
      <p n="493">We will heare this diuinitie. Now sir, what is your text?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-vio">
      <speaker rend="italic">Vio.</speaker>
      <p n="494">Most sweet Ladie.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="495">A comfortable doctrine, and much may bee saide
      <lb n="496"/>of it. Where lies your Text?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-vio">
      <speaker rend="italic">Vio.</speaker>
      <p n="497">In<hi rend="italic">Orsinoes</hi>bosome.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="498">In his bosome<c rend="italic">?</c>In what chapter of his bosome?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-vio">
      <speaker rend="italic">Vio.</speaker>
      <p n="499">To answer by the method in the first of his hart.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="500">O, I haue read it: it is heresie. Haue you no more
      <lb n="501"/>to say?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-vio">
      <speaker rend="italic">Vio.</speaker>
      <p n="502">Good Madam, let me see your face.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="503">Haue you any Commission from your Lord, to
      <lb n="504"/>negotiate with my face: you are now out of your Text:
      <lb n="505"/>but we will draw the Curtain, and shew you the picture.
      <lb n="506"/>Looke you sir, such a one I was this present: Ist not well
      <lb n="507"/>done?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-vio">
      <speaker rend="italic">Vio.</speaker>
      <p n="508">Excellently done, if God did all.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="509">'Tis in graine sir, 'twill endure winde and wea­
      <lb n="510"/>ther.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-vio">
      <speaker rend="italic">Vio.</speaker>
      <l n="511">Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white,</l>
      <l n="512">Natures owne sweet, and cunning hand laid on:</l>
      <l n="513">Lady, you are the cruell'st shee aliue,</l>
      <l n="514">If you will leade these graces to the graue,</l>
      <l n="515">And leaue the world no copie.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="516">O sir, I will not be so hard‑hearted: I will giue
      <lb n="517"/>out diuers scedules of my beautie. It shalbe Inuentoried
      <lb n="518"/>and euery particle and vtensile labell'd to my will: As,
      <lb n="519"/>Item two lippes indifferent redde, Item two grey eyes,
      <lb n="520"/>with lids to them: Item, one necke, one chin, &amp; so forth.
      <lb n="521"/>Were you sent hither to praise me?</p>
   </sp>
   <cb n="2"/>
   <sp who="#F-tn-vio">
      <speaker rend="italic">Vio.</speaker>
      <l n="522">I see you what you are, you are too proud:</l>
      <l n="523">But if you were the diuell, you are faire:</l>
      <l n="524">My Lord, and master loues you: O such loue</l>
      <l n="525">Could be but recompenc'd, though you were crown'd</l>
      <l n="526">The non‑pareil of beautie.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="527">How does he loue me?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-vio">
      <speaker rend="italic">Vio.</speaker>
      <l n="528">With adorations, fertill teares,</l>
      <l n="529">With groanes that thunder loue, with sighes of fire.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <l n="530">Your Lord does know my mind, I cannot loue him</l>
      <l n="531">Yet I suppose him vertuous, know him noble,</l>
      <l n="532">Of great estate, of fresh and stainlesse youth;</l>
      <l n="533">In voyces well divulg'd, free, learn'd, and valiant,</l>
      <l n="534">And in dimension, and the shape of nature,</l>
      <l n="535">A gracious person; But yet I cannot loue him:</l>
      <l n="536">He might haue tooke his answer long ago.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-vio">
      <speaker rend="italic">Vio.</speaker>
      <l n="537">If I did loue you in my masters flame,</l>
      <l n="538">With such a suffring, such a deadly life:</l>
      <l n="539">In your deniall, I would finde no sence,</l>
      <l n="540">I would not vnderstand it.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <p n="541">Why, what would you?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-vio">
      <speaker rend="italic">Vio.</speaker>
      <l n="542">Make me a willow Cabine at your gate,</l>
      <l n="543">And call vpon my soule within the house,</l>
      <l n="544">Write loyall Cantons of contemned loue,</l>
      <l n="545">And sing them lowd euen in the dead of night:</l>
      <l n="546">Hallow your name to the reuerberate hilles,</l>
      <l n="547">And make the babling Gossip of the aire,</l>
      <l n="548">Cry out<hi rend="italic">Oliuia:</hi>O you should not rest</l>
      <l n="549">Betweene the elements of ayre, and earth,</l>
      <l n="550">But you should pittie me.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <l n="551">You might do much:</l>
      <l n="552">What is your Parentage<c rend="italic">?</c>
      </l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-vio">
      <speaker rend="italic">Vio.</speaker>
      <l n="553">Aboue my fortunes, yet my state is well:</l>
      <l n="554">I am a Gentleman.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <l n="555">Get you to your Lord:</l>
      <l n="556">I cannot loue him: let him send no more,</l>
      <l n="557">Vnlesse (perchance) you come to me againe,</l>
      <l n="558">To tell me how he takes it: Fare you well:</l>
      <l n="559">I thanke you for your paines: spend this for mee.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-vio">
      <speaker rend="italic">Vio.</speaker>
      <l n="560">I am no feede poast, Lady; keepe your purse,</l>
      <l n="561">My Master, not my selfe, lackes recompence.</l>
      <l n="562">Loue make his heart of flint, that you shal loue,</l>
      <l n="563">And let your feruour like my masters be,</l>
      <l n="564">Plac'd in contempt: Farwell fayre crueltie.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit</stage>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <l n="565">What is your Parentage?</l>
      <l n="566">Aboue my fortunes, yet my state is well;</l>
      <l n="567">I am a Gentleman. Ile be sworne thou art,</l>
      <l n="568">Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbes, actions, and spirit,</l>
      <l n="569">Do giue thee fiue‑fold blazon: not too fast: soft, soft,</l>
      <l n="570">Vnlesse the Master were the man. How now?</l>
      <l n="571">Euen so quickly may one catch the plague?</l>
      <l n="572">Me thinkes I feele this youths perfections</l>
      <l n="573">With an inuisible, and subtle stealth</l>
      <l n="574">To creepe in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.</l>
      <l n="575">What hoa,<hi rend="italic">Maluolio</hi>.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Maluolio.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-tn-mal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mal.</speaker>
      <p n="576">Heere Madam, at your seruice.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <l n="577">Run after that same peeuish Messenger</l>
      <l n="578">The Countes man: he left this Ring behinde him</l>
      <l n="579">Would I, or not: tell him, Ile none of it.</l>
      <l n="580">Desire him not to flatter with his Lord,</l>
      <l n="581">Nor hold him vp with hopes, I am not for him:</l>
      <l n="582">If that the youth will come this way to morrow,</l>
      <l n="583">Ile giue him reasons for't: hie thee<hi rend="italic">Maluolio</hi>.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-tn-mal">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mal.</speaker>
      <l n="584">Madam, I will.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-tn-oli">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ol.</speaker>
      <l n="585">I do I know not what, and feare to finde</l>
      <l n="586">Mine eye too great a flatterer for my minde:</l>
      <pb facs="FFimg:axc0280-0.jpg" n="260"/>
      <cb n="1"/>
      <l n="587">Fate, shew thy force, our selues we do not owe,</l>
      <l n="588">What is decreed, must be: and be this so.</l>
   </sp>
</div>

                                
                            

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