yourselves into stitches, follow me: yon' gull Malvolio is turned heathen, a very renegado; for there is no Christian, that means to be saved by believing rightly, can ever believe such impossible passages of grossness. He's in yellow stockings.

Sir To. And cross-gartered?

Mar. Most villainously; like a pedant that keeps a school i'the church.—I have dogged him, like his murderer: He does obey every point of the letter that I dropped to betray him. He does smile his face into more lines, than are in the new map, with the augmentation of the Indies: you have not seen such a thing as 'tis; I can hardly forbear hurling things at him. I know, my lady will strike him; if she do, he'll smile, and take't for a great favour. Sir To. Come, bring us, bring us where he is.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

A Street.

Enter ANTONIO and SEBASTIAN.

Seb. I would not, by my will, have troubled you; But, since you make your pleasure of your pains, I will no further chide

you.

Ant. I could not stay behind you; my desire, More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth; And not all love to see you, (though so much, As might have drawn one to a longer voyage,) But jealousy what might befall your travel, Being skilless in these parts; which to a stranger, Unguided, and unfriended, often prove

Rough and unhospitable: My willing love,
The rather by these arguments of fear,

Set forth in your pursuit.

Seb.

My kind Antonio,

I can no other answer make, but, thanks,
And thanks, and ever thanks: Often good turns
Are shuffled off with such uncurrent pay :

2

But, were my worth, as is my conscience, firm,
You should find better dealing. What's to do?

Shall we go see the reliques of this town?

Ant. To-morrow, sir; best, first, go see your lodging.

Seb. I am not weary, and 'tis long to night;
I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes

With the memorials, and the things of fame,
That do renown this city.

Ant.

'Would, you'd pardon me;

I do not without danger walk these streets:
Once, in a sea-fight, 'gainst the Count his gallies,
I did some service; of such note, indeed,

That, were I ta'en here, it would scarce be answer'd.
Seb. Belike, you slew great number of his people.
Ant. The offence is not of such a bloody nature;
Albeit the quality of the time, and quarrel,
Might well have given us bloody argument.
It might have since been answer'd in repaying
What we took from them; which, for traffick's sake,
Most of our city did: only myself stood out :

For which, if I be lapsed in this place,

I shall pay dear.

Seb.

Do not then walk too open.

2 Wealth.

3 Caught.

Ant. It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here's my purse; In the south suburbs, at the Elephant,

Is best to lodge: I will bespeak our diet,

Whiles you beguile the time, and feed your know

ledge,

With viewing of the town; there shall you have me.
Sch. Why I your purse?

Ant. Haply, your eye shall light upon some toy
You have desire to purchase; and your store,
I think, is not for idle markets, sir.

Seb. I'll be your purse-bearer, and leave you for
An hour.

Enter OLIVIA and MARIA.

Oli. I have sent after him: He says, he'll come; How shall I feast him? what bestow on him? For youth is bought more oft, than begg'd, or borrow'd.

I speak too loud.

Where is Malvolio?-he is sad, and civil, 4

And suits well for a servant with my fortunes ;-
Where is Malvolio?

Mar.

He's coming, madam;

But in strange manner. He is sure possess'd.

Oli. Why, what's the matter? does he rave?

4 Grave and demure,

No, madam,

Mar.
He does nothing but smile: your ladyship
Were best have guàrd about you, if he come;
For, sure, the man is tainted in his wits.

Oli. Go call him hither.-I'm as mad as he,
If sad and merry madness equal be.—

Enter MALVOLIO.

How now,

Malvolio?

Mal. Sweet lady, ho, ho.

Oli. Smil'st thou ?

[Smiles fantastically.

I sent for thee upon a sad occasion.

Mal. Sad, lady? I could be sad: This does make some obstruction in the blood, this cross-gartering; But what of that, if it please the eye of one, it is with me as the very true sonnet is: Please one, and please all. Oli. Why, how dost thou, man? what is the matter with thee?

Mal. Not black in my mind, though yellow in my legs: It did come to his hands, and commands shall be executed. I think, we do know the sweet Roman hand.

Oli. Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio?

Mal. To bed? ay, sweet-heart; and I'll come to thee.

Oli. God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so, and kiss thy hand so oft?

Mar. How do you, Malvolio?

Mal. At your request? Yes; Nightingales answer daws.

Mar. Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady?

s Grave.

Mal. Be not afraid of greatness:-'Twas well writ.

Oli. What meanest thou by that, Malvolio?
Mal. Some are born great,—

Oli. Ha?

Mal. Some achieve greatness,

Oli. What say'st thou ?

Mal. And some have greatness thrust upon them.

Oli. Heaven restore thee!

Mal. Remember, who commended thy yellow stock

ings;

Oli. Thy yellow stockings?

Mal. And wished to see thee cross-gartered.

Oli. Cross-gartered?

Mal. Go to: thou art made, if thou desirest to be

Mal. If not, let me see thee a servant still.

Oli. Why, this is very midsummer madness. 6

Enter servant.

Ser. Madam, the young gentleman of the count Orsino's is returned; I could hardly entreat him back he attends your ladyship's pleasure.

Oli. I'll come to him. [Exit Servant.] Good Maria, let this fellow be looked to. Where's my cousin Toby? Let some of my people have a special care of him; I would not have him miscarry for the half of my dowry. [Exeunt OLIVIA and MARIA.

Mal. Oh, ho! do you come near me now? no worse man than sir Toby to look to me? This concurs

6 Hot weather madness.