Sir To. What fhall we do elfe? were we not born under Taurus?

Şir And. Taurus ? that's fides and heart".
Sir To. No, Sir, it is legs and thighs.

thee caper; ha! higher: ha, ha!

Val.

SCENE V.

Changes to the Palace.

Let me fee -excellent. [Exeunt.

Enter Valentine, and Viola in man's attire.

F the Duke continue thefe favours towards you,

he hath known you but three days, and already you are no ftranger.

io. You either fear his humour, or my negligence, t'at you call in queftion the continuance of his love. Is he inconftant, Sir, in his favours?

Val. No, believe me.

Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants.

Vio. I thank you: here comes the Duke.
Duke. Who faw Cefario, hoa?

Vio. On your attendance, my Lord, here.
Duke. Stand you a-while aloof.-Cefario,
Thou know'ft no lefs, but all: I have unclafp'd
To thee the book even of my fecret foul.
Therefore, good youth, addrefs thy gate unto her;
Be not deny'd accefs, ftand at her doors,

And tell them, there thy fixed foot fhall grow,
'Till thou have audience.
Vio. Sure, my noble Lord,

5 Taurus? that's fides and heart.] Alluding to the medical aftrology still preferved in Almanacks, which refers the af.

fections of particular parts of the body, to the predominance of particular conftellations.

If fhe be fo abandon'd to her forrow

As it is fpoke, fhe never will admit me.

Duke. Be clamorous, and leap all civil bounds, Rather than make unprofited return.

Vio. Say, I do fpeak with her, my Lord; what then? Duke. O, then, unfold the paffion of my love, Surprize her with difcourfe of my dear faith; It shall become thee well to act my woes; She will attend it better in thy youth, Than in a Nuncio of more grave afpect. Vio. I think not fo, my Lord.

Duke. Dear lad, believe it:

For they fhall yet belie thy happy years,
That fay, thou art a man: Diana's lip

Is not more smooth and rubious; thy fmall pipe.
Is as the maiden's organ, fhrill, and found,
And all is femblative-a Woman's part 6,
I know, thy Conftellation is right apt
For this affair.-Some four or five attend him;
All, if you will; for I myself am best

When leaft in company. Profper well in this,
And thou shalt live as freely as thy Lord,
To call his fortunes thine.

Vio. I'll do my best

To woo your Lady; [Exit Duke.] yet, a barful ftrife! Who-e'er I woo, myself would be his wife. [Exeunt.

Mar.

SCENE VI.

Changes to Olivia's Houfe.

NAY

Enter Maria and Clown,

AY, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will not open my lips fo wide as a

a woman's part.] men were then perfonated by

That is, thy proper part in a boys. play would be a woman's. Wo

briftle

bristle may enter, in way of thy excufe; my Lady will hang thee for thy abfence.

Clo. Let her hang me; he that is well hang'd in this world, needs fear no colours. Mar. Make that good.

Clo. He fhall fee none to fear.

Mar. A good' lenten answer: I can tell thee where that faying was born, of, I fear no colours. Clo. Where, good miftrefs Mary?

Mar. In the wars, and that may you be bold to fay in your foolery.

Clo. Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those that are fools, let them ufe their talents.

Mar. Yet you will be hang'd for being fo long abfent, or be turn'd away; is not that as good as a hang-. ing to you?

Clo. Marry, a good hanging prevents a bad marriage; and for turning away, let fummer bear it out. Mar. You are refolute then?

Clo. Not fo neither, but I am refolv'd on two points. Mar. That if one break, the other will hold; or, if both break, your gaskins fall.

Clo. Apt, in good faith; very apt well, go thy way, if Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria.

Mar. Peace, you rogue, no more o' that; here comes my Lady; make your excufe wifely, you were best. [Exit.

Enter Olivia, and Malvolio.

Cla. Wit, and't be thy will, put me into a good fooling! thofe wits, that think they have thee, do very oft prove fools; and I, that am fure I lack thee,

7

anfwer.

Lenten anfwer:-] A lean, or as we now call it, a dry

may

may pass for a wife man. For what fays Quinapalus, Better be a witty fool than a foolish wit. God bless thee, Lady!

Oli. Take the fool away,

Clo. Do you not hear, fellows? take away the Lady. Oli. Go to, y'are a dry fool; I'll no more of you; befides, you grow dishonest.

Clo. Two faults, Madona, that drink and good counsel will amend; for give the dry fool drink, then is the fool not dry: Bid the dishoneft man mend himfelf; if he mend, he is no longer difhoneft; if he cannot, let the botcher mend him. Any thing, that's mended, is but patch'd; virtue, that tranfgreffes, is but patch'd with fin; and fin, that amends, is but patch'd with virtue. If that this fimple fyllogifm will ferve, fo; if it will not, what remedy? as there is no true cuckold but calamity, so beauty's a flower: the Lady bade take away the fool, therefore, I fay again, take her away.

Oli. Sir, I bade them take away you.

Clo. Mifprifion in the highest degree.-Lady, Cucullus non facit monachum; that's as much as to fay, I wear not motley in my brain: good Madona, give me leave to prove you a fool.

Oli. Can you do it?

Clo. Dexterously, good Madona.
Oli. Make your proof.

Clo. I muft catechize you for it, Madona; good my mouse of virtue, anfwer me.

Oli. Well, Sir, for want of other idleness, I'll bide your proof.

Clo. Good Madona, why mourn'ft thou?
Oli. Good fool, for my brother's death.
Clo. I think, his foul is in hell, Madona.

"Hall, in his Chronicle, fpeaking of the death of Sir Thomas More, fays, that he knows not

whether to call him a foolife wit man, or a wife foolish man.

Oli. I know, his foul is in heav'n, fool.

Clo. The more fool you, Madona, to mourn for your brother's foul being in heav'n: take away the fool, Gentlemen.

Oli. What think you of this fool, Malvolio, doth he not mend?

Mal. Yes, and fhall do, 'till the pangs of death shake him. Infirmity, that decays the wife, doth ever make better the fool.

Clo. God fend you, Sir, a fpeedy infirmity, for the better increafing your folly! Sir Toby will be fworn, that I am no fox; but he will not pafs his word for two pence, that you are no fool.

Oli. How fay you to that, Malvolio?

Mal. I marvel, your Ladyfhip takes delight in fuch a barren rafcal; I faw him put down the other day with an ordinary fool, that has no more brain than a ftone. Look you now, he's out of his guard already; unless you laugh and minifter occafion to him, he is gagg'd. I proteft, I take thefe wife men, that crow fo at these fet kind of fools, no better than the fools' Zanies.

Oli. O, you are fick of felf-love, Malvolio, and tafte with a diftemper'd appetite. To be generous, guiltless, and of free disposition, is to take those things for bird-bolts that you deem cannon-bullets: there is no flander in an allow'd fool, though he do nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known difcreet man, though he do nothing but repove.

Clo. Now Mercury indue thee with leafing, for thou speak'ft well of fools!

Now Mercury indue thee with LEASING, for thou speak' ft well of fools!] This is a ftupid blunder. We fhould read, with PLEASING, i. e. with eloquence, make thee a gracious and power.

Enter

ful speaker, for Mercury was the God of orators as well as cheats. But the firft Editors, who did not understand the phrafe, indue thee with pleafing, made this foolish correction; more excufable,

however