Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Ol. Enter Maluolio.
Mal. Mal.
Mal. Heere Madam, at your seruice.
Ol. Ol.
Ol. Run after that same peeuish Messenger
Ol. The Countes man: he left this Ring behinde him
Ol. Would I, or not: tell him, Ile none of it.
Ol. Desire him not to flatter with his Lord,
Ol. Nor hold him vp with hopes, I am not for him:
Ol. If that the youth will come this way to morrow,
Ol. Ile giue him reasons for't: hie thee Maluolio.
Mal. Madam, I will.
Mal. Exit.
Ol. I do I know not what, and feare to finde
Ol. Mine eye too great a flatterer for my minde:
Ol. Fate
Ol. Twelfe Night, or, What you will.
Ol. Fate, shew thy force, our selues we do not owe,