fight with him; hurt him in eleven places; my niece fhall take note of it; and affure thyfelf, there is no love-broker in the world can more prevail in man's . commendation with woman than report of valour. Fab. There is no way but this, Sir Andrew.

Sir And. Will either of you bear me a challenge to him?

Sir To. Go, write in a martial hand; be curft and brief: it is no matter how witty, fo it be eloquent, and full of invention; (13) taunt him with the licence of ink; if thou thou'ft him fome thrice, it fhall not be amifs; and as many lyes as will lie in thy fheet of paper, although the fheet were big enough for the bed of Ware in England; fet 'em down, go about it. Let there be gall enough in thy ink, tho' thou write with a goofe-pen, no matter: about it.

Sir And. Where fhall I find you?

Sir To. We'll call thee at the Cubiculo: go.

[Exit Sir Andrew. Fab. This is a dear manikin to you, Sir Toby. Sir To. I have been dear to him, lad, fome two thousand ftrong or fo.

(13) Taunt him with the licence of ink; if thou thou'st bim fore thrice,] There is no doubt, I think, but this paflage is one of thote, in which our author intended to fhew his refpect for Sir Walter Raleigh, and a deteftation of the virulence of his profecutors. The words quoted, feem to me directly levell'd at the Attorney General Coke, who in the trial of Sir Walter, attack'd him with all the following indecent expreffions.- -"All that he did was by thy infti"gation, thou vipour; for I thou thee, thou traytor!" (Here, by the way, are the Poet's three thou's.) " You are an odious man. Is he bafe? I return it into thy throat, on his behalf.". damnable atheist !"

"Thou art a monfter; thou haft an "English face, but a Spanish heart." "Thou haft a Span fo heart, and thy felf art a spider of hell.". "Go to, I will "lay thee on thy back for the confident'ft traytor that ever came at a bar," &c. Is not here all the licence of tongue, which the Poet fatyrically prefcribes to Sir Andrew's ink? And how mean an opinion Shakespeare had of thefe petulant invectives, is pretty evident from his clofe of this fpeech; Let there be gall enoi gh in thy ink, tho' thou write it with a goofe-pen, no matter. -- A keener lah at the Attorney for a fool, than all the contumelies the Attorney threw at the prifoner as a suppos'd traytor!

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Fab.

Fab. We fhall have a rare letter from him; but you'll not deliver't.

Sir To. Never truft me then; and by all means ftir on the youth to an answer. I think, oxen and wainropes cannot hale them together. For Andrew, if he were open'd, and you find fo much blood in his liver as will clog the foot of a flea, I'll eat the reft of th' ana

tomy.

Fab. And his oppofite, the youth, bears in his vifage no great prefage of cruelty.

Enter Maria.

Sir To. Look, where the youngest wren of nine comes. Mar. If you defire the spleen, and will laugh yourfelves into stitches, follow me; yond gull Malvolio is turned heathen, a very Renegado? for there is no Chriftian, that means to be fav'd by believing rightly, can ever believe fuch impoffible paffages of groffnefs. He's in yellow ftockings.

Sir To. And cross-garter'd?

Mar. Moft villanoufly; like a pedant that keeps a fchool i'th' church: I have dogg'd him, like his murderer. He does obey every point of the letter, that I dropt to betray him; he does fmile his face into more lines than is in the new map, with the augmentation of the Indies; you have not feen fuch a thing, as 'tis; I can hardly forbear hurling things at him. I know, my Lady will ftrike him; if the do, he'll smile, and take't for a great favour.

Sir To. Come, bring us, bring us where he is.

Seb.

I

SCENE changes to the Street.

Enter Sebaftian, and Anthonio.

[Exeunt.

Would not by my will have troubled you. But fince you make your pleasure of your pains, I will no further chide you.

Ant. I could not ftay behind you; my defire, (More sharp than filed fteel,) did fpur me forth;

And

And not all love to fee you, (tho' so much,
As might have drawn one to a longer voyage.)
But jealoufy what might befal your travel,
Being killefs in these parts; which to a stranger,
Unguided and unfriended, often prove
Rough and unhofpitable. My willing love,
The rather by thefe arguments of fear,
Set forth in your pursuit.

Seb. My kind Anthonio,

(14) I can no other answer make, but thanks;
And thanks, and ever thanks; and oft good turns
Are fhuffled off with fuch uncurrent pay;
But were my worth, as is my confcience, firm,
You should find better dealing: what's to do?
Shall we go fee the relicks of this town?

Ant. To-morrow, Sir; beft, first, go fee your lodging, Seb. I am not weary, and 'tis long to night;

I pray you, let us fatisfy 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 fea-fight 'gainst the Duke his gallies,
I did fome fervice, of fuch note, indeed,

That were I ta'en here, it would fcarce be anfwer'd,
Seb. Belike, you flew great number of his people.

(14) I can no other anfwer make but thanks,

And thanks: and ever-oft good turns

Are fhuffled off with fuch uncurrent pay;] It must be obvious to every reader, who has the leaft knowledge in verfification, that the fecond line is too fhort by a whole foot; however the editors have indolently paffed it over without fufpicion. Then, who ever heard of this goodly double adverb, ever-oft, which seems to have as much propriety as, always-fometimes? As I have reftor'd the paffage, it is very much in our author's manner, and mode of expreffion. So, in Cymbeline;

Since when I have been debtor to you for courtefies, which I will be ever to pay, and yet pay ftill.

And in All's well, that Ends well.

And let me buy your friendly help thus far,

Which I will over pay, and pay again

When I have found it.

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Ant.

Ant. Th' offence is not of fach a bloody nature, Albeit the quality of the time and quarrel Might well have given us bloody argument: It might have fince been anfwer'd in repaying What we took from them, which, for traffick's fake, Most of our city did. Only myfelf stood out; For which, if I be lapfed in this place,

I shall pay dear.

Seb. Do not then walk too open.

Ant. It doth not fit me: hold, Sir, here's

In the fouth fuburbs at the Elephant

Is beft to lodge: I will befpeak our diet,

my purse.

Whiles you beguile the time, and feed your knowledge With viewing of the town; there fhall you have me. Seb. Why I your purfe?

Art. Haply, your eye fhall light upon fome toy You have defire to purchase; and your store,

I think, is not for idle markets, Sir.

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

Ant. To th' Elephant,

Seb. I do remember.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to Olivia's Houfe.

Oli. (15)

Enter Olivia, and Maria.

Have fent after him; fay, he will come; How fhall I feaft him? what bestow on him? For youth is bought more oft, than begg'd or borrow'd. I speak too loud..

Where

(15) I have fent after bim; he fays he'll come.] But who did he fay fo to? Or from whom could my Lady have any fuch intelligence? Her fervant, employed upon this errand, was not yet returned; and, when he does return, he brings word, that the youth would hardly be intreated back. I am perfuaded, fhe was intended rather to be in suspense, and deliberating with herfelf: putting the fuppofition that he would come; and asking herself, in that cafe, how the should entertain him. I imagine therefore the Poet wrote;

Say, he will come;

So

Where is Mal-volio? he is fad and civil,

And fuits well for a fervant with my fortunes.
Where is Malvolio?

Mar. He's coming,Madam: but in very strange manner. He is fure poffeft, Madam.

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

Mar. No, Madam, he does nothing but fmile; your Lady fhip were beft to have fome guard about you, if he come; for, fure, the man is tainted in's wits. Oli. Go call him hither.

I'm as mad as he,

Enter Malvolio.

If fad and merry madness equal be.
How now, Malvolio?

Mal. Sweet Lady, ha, ha.

[Smiles fantaftically. Oli. Smil'ft thou? I fent for thee upon a fad occafion. Mal. Sad, Lady? I could be fad; this does make fome 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 funnet is: Pleafe one, and please all.

Oli. Why? how doft thou, man? what is the matter with thee?

Mal. Not black in my mind, tho' yellow in my legs it did come to his hands, and commands fhall be executed. I think, we do know that sweet Roman hand.

Oli. Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio?

Mal. To bed? ay, fweet heart; and I'll come to thee. Oli. God comfort thee! why doft thou smile so, and kifs thy hand fo oft?

Mar. How do you, Malvolio?
Mal. At your request?

Yes, nightingales answer daws!

So Viola, before, in this play;

Say, I do fpeak with her, my Lord; what then?

So, Petruchio in the Taming of the Shrew;

Say, that the rail, why, then I'll tell her plain,

And in numberless other paffages.

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Mar.