ACT III.

SCENEI. The fame.

Enter VIOLA, and Clown, meeting.

VIO. Save thee, friend, and thy musick: Doft thou live by the tabor?

Clo. No, fir, I live by the church.

VIO. Art thou a churchman ?

Clo. No fuch matter, fir; I do live by the church: for I do live at my house, and my house doth stand by the church.

V10. So thou may'ft fay, the king lies by a beggar, if a beggar dwell near him; or, the church ftands by thy tabor, if thy tabor ftand by the church.

Clo. You have faid, fir.-To fee this age! A fentence is but a chev'ril glove to a good wit; How quickly the wrong fide may be turn'd outward!

V10. Nay, that's certain; they, that dally nicely with words, may quickly make them wanton.

fir.

Clo. I would therefore, my fifter had had no name,

V10. Why, man?

Clo. Why, fir, her name's a word; and to dally with that word, might make my fifter wanton: But, indeed, words are very rafcals, fince bonds difgrac'd them.

VIO. Thy reason, man?

Clo. "Troth, fir, I can yield you none without words; and words are grown fo false, I am loth to prove reason with them.

VIO. I warrant, thou art a merry fellow, and car'st

for nothing.

Clo. Not fo, fir, I do care for fomething: but in my confcience, fir, I do not care for you; if that be to care for nothing, fir, I would it would make you invisible. V10. Art not thou the lady Olivia's fool?

Clo. No, indeed, fir; the lady Olivia has no folly: fhe will keep no fool, fir, 'till fhe be marry'd; and fools are as like husbands, as pilchards are to herrings, the husband's the bigger: I am, indeed, not her fool, but her corrupter of words.

VIO. I faw thee late at the count Orfino's.

Cl. Foolery, fir, does walk about the orb, like the fun; it fhines every where. I would be forry, fir, but the fool fhould be as oft with your master, as with my mistress: I think, I saw your wisdom there.

VIO. Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee. Hold, there's expences for thee.

Clo. Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, fend thee a beard!

V10. By my troth, I'll tell thee; I am almost fick for one; though I would not have it grow on my chin. Is thy lady within?

Clo. Would not a pair of these have bred, fir? V10. Yes, being kept together, and put to use. Clo. I would play lord Pandarus of Phrygia, fir, to bring a Creffida to this Troilus.

Vio. I understand you, fir, 'tis well beg'd.

Clo. The matter, I hope, is not great, fir, begging but a beggar; Creffida was a beggar. My lady is within, fir. I will confter to them, whence you come; who you are, and what you would, are out of my welkin: I might say, element; but the word is over-worn. [Exit Clown,

10. This fellow is wise enough to play the fool;
And, to do that well, craves a kind of wit:
He must observe their mood on whom he jefts,
The quality of perfons, and the time;

And, like the haggard, check at every feather
That comes before his eye. This is a practice,
As full of labour as a wise man's art :

For folly, that he wisely fhews, is fit;

But wise men, folly-faln, quite taint their wit.
Enter Sir TOBY, and Sir ANDREW.

Sir T. Save you, gentleman.

V10. And you, fir.

Sir A. Dieu vous guarde, monfieur.

V10. Et vous auffi; votre ferviteur.

Sir A. I hope, fir, you are; and I am yours. Sir T. Will you encounter the house? my niece is desirous you fhould enter, if your trade be to her.

V10. I am bound to your niece, fir; I mean, she is the lift of my voyage.

Sir T. Tafte your legs, fir, put them to motion.

V10. My legs do better understand me, fir, than I understand what you mean by bidding me taste my legs.

Sir T. I mean, to go, fir, to enter.

V10.

I will answer you with gate and entrance:

But we are prevented.

Enter OLIVIA, and Maria.

Moft excellent-accomplish'd lady, the heavens rain odours on you!

Sir A. "That youth's a rare courtier. Rain odours!” "well."

V10. My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your

? wifemens folly-falne,

own most pregnant and vouchsafed ear.

Sir A. Odours, pregnant, and vouchsafed: - I'll get "'em all three ready.'

OLI. Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing. [Exeunt Sir T. Sir A. and Maria. Give me your hand, fir.

V10. My duty, madam, and most humble service. OLI. What is your name?

V10. Cesario is your fervant's name, fair princess. OLI. My fervant, fir! 'Twas never merry world, Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment: You're fervant to the count Orfino, youth.

V10. And he is yours, and his must needs be yours; Your fervant's fervant is your fervant, madam.

OLI. For him, I think not on him: for his thoughts, 'Would they were blanks, rather than fill'd with me. V10. Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts On his behalf:

OLI. O, by your leave, I pray you; I bad you never speak again of him : But, would you undertake another fuit, I had rather hear you to follicit that, Than musick from the spheres.

V10. Dear lady,—

OLI. Ray, give me leave, befeech you: I did fend, After the last enchantment you did here,

A ring in chace of you; fo did I abuse
Myfelf, my fervant, and, I fear me, you:
Under your hard conftruction must I fit,
To force that on you, in a shameful cunning,

Which you knew none of yours: What might you think?
Have you not fet mine honour at the stake,

3 three already 26 did heare,

And baited it with all the unmuzzl'd thoughts ·

That tyranous heart can think? To one of your receiving Enough is fhewn; a cyprus, not a bosom,

Hides my poor heart: So let me hear you speak.

VIO. I pity you.

OLI. That's a degree to love.

V10. No, not a grize; for 'tis a vulgar proof, That very oft we pity enemies.

OLI. Why then, methinks, 'tis time to smile again : O world, how apt the poor are to be proud!

[Clock ftrikes.

If one should be a prey, how much the better
To fall before the lion, than the wolf?
The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.
Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you:
And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest,
Your wife is like to reap a proper man :
There lies your way, due west.

VIO. Then weftward-hoe:

Grace, and good difposition, attend your ladyship!
You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?

OĻI. Stay:

I pr'ythee, tell me, what thou think'st of me.

Vio. That you do think, you are not what you are. OLI. If I think fo, I think the fame of

you. V10. Then think you right; I am not what I am. OLI. I would, you were as I would have you be. Vio. Would it be better, madam, than I am,

I wish it might; for now I am your fool.

OLI. O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful

In the contempt, and anger, of his lip!
A murd'rous guilt fhews not itself more foon

Than love that would feem hid; love's night is noon..

3 Cipreffe