Clo.

I am gone, sir,

And anon, sir,
I'll be with you again,

In a trice;

Like to the old vice*,
Your need to sustain;
Who with dagger of lath,
In his rage and his wrath,

Cries, ah, ha! to the devil :
Like a mad lad,
Pare thy nails, dad,

Adieu, goodman drivel.

[Exit.

SCENE III.

Olivia's garden.

Enter Sebastian. Seb. This is the air; that is the glorious sun; This pearl she gave me, I do feel't, and see't: And though 'tis wonder that enwraps me thus, Yet 'tis not madness. Where's Antonio then? I could not find hini at the Elephant: Yet there he was ; and there I found this creditt, That he did range the town to seek me out. His counsel now might do me golden service: For though my soul disputes well with my sense, That this may be some error, but no madness, Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune, So far exceed all ivstance, all discoursef, That I am ready to distrust mine eyes, And wrangle with my reason, that persuades me To any other trustş, but that I am mad, Or else the lady's mad; yet, if 'twere so,

* A buffoon character in the old, plays, and father of the modern harlequin.

+ Account. I Reason.

♡ Belief.

She could not sway her house, command her follow

ers*,

Take, and give back, affairs, and their despatch, With such a smooth, discreet, and stable bearing, As, I perceive, she does : there's something in't, That is deceivable. But here comes the lady.

Enter Olivia and a Priest.

Oli. Blame not this haste of mine: if you mean

well,
Now go with me, and with this holy man,
Into the chantryt by: there, before him,
And underneath that consecrated roof,
Plight me the full assurance of your faith;
That my most jealous and too doubtful soul
May live at peace: he shall conceal it,
Whilest you are willing it shall come to note;
What time we will our celebration keep
According to my birth.-What do you say?

Seb. I'll follow this good man, and go with you;
And, having sworn truth, ever will be true.
Oli. Then lead the way, good father;

-And heavens so shine, That they may fairly note this act of mine!

[Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I.

The street before Olivia's house.

Enter Clown and Fabian.

Fab. Now, as thou lovest me, let me see his let. ter.

Clo. Good master Fabian, grant me another re. quest. Fab, Any thing. • Servants. + Little chapel.

Until.

Clo. Do not desire to see this letter.

Fab. That is, to give a dog, and, in recompense, desire my dog again.

Enter Duke, Viola, and attendants. Duke. Belong you to the lady Olivia, friends! Clo. Ay, sir; we are some of her trappings.

Duke. I know thee well; How dost thou, my good fellow?

Clo. Truly, sir, the better for my foes, and the worse for my friends. Duke. Just the contrary; the better for thy friends. Clo. No, sir, the worse. Duke. How can that be?

Clo. Marry, sir, they praise me, and make an ass of me; now my foes tell me plainly I am an ass: so that by my foes, sir, I profit in the knowledge of myself; and by my friends I am abused : so that, conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives make your two affirmatives, why, then the worse for my friends, and the better for my foes.

Duke. Why, this is excellent.

Clo. By my troth, sir, no; though it please you to be one of my friends.

Duke. Thou shalt not be the worse forme; there's gold.

Clo. But that it would be doubledealing, sir, I would you could make it another.

Duke. O, you give me ill counsel.

Olo. Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this once, and let your flesh and blood obey it.

Duke. Well, I will be so much a sinner to be a double dealer; there's another.

Clo. Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play; and the old saying is, the third pays for all: the triplex, sir, is a good tripping measure; or the bells of St. Bennet, sir, may put you in mind; One, two, three.

Duke. You can fool no more money out of me at this throw: if you will let your lady know, I am here to speak with her, and bring her along with you, it may awake my bounty further.

Clo. Marry, sir, lullaby to your bounty, till I come again. I go, sir; but I would not have you to think, that my desire of having is the sin of covetousness: but, as you say, sir, let your bounty take a nap, I will awake it anon.

[Evit Clown.

Enter Antonio and Officers.

Vio. Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue

me.
Duke. That face of bis I do remember well;
Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmear'd
As black as Vulcan, in the smoke of war:
A bawbling vessel was he captain of,
For shallow draught, and bulk, unprizable :
With which such scathful* grapple did he make
With the most noble bottom of our fleet,
That very envy, and the tongue of loss,
Cry'd fame and honour on him.-What's the matter?

1 Off. Orsino, this is that Antonio,
That took the Phænix, and her fraughtt, from Candy;
And this is he, that did the Tiger board,
When your young nephew Titus lost his leg:
Here in the streets, desperate of shame, and state,
Iv private brabble did we apprehend him.

Vio. He did me kindness, sir; drew on my side;
Bui, in conclusion, put strange speech upon me,
I kuow not what'twas, but distraction.

Duke. Notable pirate! thou salt-water thief!
What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies,
Whom thou, in terms so bloody, and so dear,
Hast made thine enemies?
Ant.

Orsino, noble sir,
Be pleas'd that I shake off these names you give me;
Antonio never yet was thief, or pirate,
Though, I confess, on base and ground enough,
Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither:

That most ingrateful boy there, by your side,
From the rude sea's enrag'd and foamy mouth
Did I redeem; a wreck past hope he was :
His life I gave him, and did thereto add
My love, without retention, or restraint,
All his in dedication : for his sake,
Did I expose myself, pure for his love,
Into the danger of this adverse town;
Drew to defend him, when he was beset;
Where being apprehended, his false cunning
(Not meaning to partake with me in danger),
Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,
And grew a twenty-years-removed thing,
While one would wink; denied me mine own purse,
Which I had recommended to his use
Not half an hour before.
Vio.

How can this be?
Duke. When came be to this town?
Ant. To.day, my lord; and for three months be-

fore (No interim, not a minute's vacancy), Both day and night did we keep company.

Enter Olivia and attendants.

Duke. Here comes the countess; now heaven

walks on earth. But for thee, fellow, fellow, thy words are mad.

ness: Three months this youth hath tended upon me; But more of that anon,Take bim aside. Oli. What would my lord, but that he may not

have,
Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?
Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.

Vio. Madam?
Duke. Gracious Olivia,
Oli. What do you say, Cesario ?

-Good my
lord,
Vio. My lord would speak, my duty hushes me.
Oli. If it be aught to the old tune, my lord,