Oliv. Open't, and read it.

Clown. Look then to be well edified, when the fool delivers the madman-By the lord, madam- [Reads. Oliv. How now, art mad!

Clown. No, madam, I do but read madness.
Oliv. Read it you, sirrah.

[TO FABIAN.

Fab. [Reads.] By the lord, madam, you wrong me, and the world shall know it; though you have put me into darkness, and given your drunken cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my senses, as well as your ladyship. I have your own letter, that induced me to the semblance I put on; with the which I doubt not, but to do myself much right, or you much shame. Think of me as you please. I leave my duty a little unthought of, and speak out of my injury.

The madly used MALVOLIO.

Oliv. Did he write this?

Clown. Ay, madam.

Oliv. See him delivered, Fabian; bring him hither. My lord, so please you, these things further thought

on,

To think me as well a sister, as a wife,

One day shall crown the alliance on't, so please you, Here at my house.

Duke. Madam, I am most apt to embrace your offer. Your master quits you; and, for your service done him,

Here is my hand; you shall from this time be

Your master's mistress.

Oliv. A sister? you are she.

Enter MALVOLIO.

Duke. Is this the madman?

Oliv. Ay, my lord, this same: How now, Malvolio? Mal. Madam, you have done me wrong, notorious

wrong.

H

Oliv. Have I, Malvolio? no.

Mal. Lady, you have. Pray you, peruse that letter. You must not now deny it is your hand: Write from it, if you can, in hand or phrase ;' Or say, 'tis not your seal, nor your invention. Oliv. Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing, Though, I confess, much like the character: But, out of question, 'tis Maria's hand. And, now I do bethink me, it was she First told me, thou wast mad!

Pr'ythee, be content;

This practice hath most shrewdly pass'd upon thee;
But, when we know the grounds, and authors of it,
Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge
Of thine own cause.

Fab. Good madam, hear me speak;

And let no quarrel, nor no brawl to come,
Taint the condition of this present hour:
Most freely I confess, myself and Toby
Set this device against Malvolio.
Maria writ

The letter, at Sir Toby's great importance;
In recompense whereof, he hath married her.
How with a sportful malice it was follow'd,
May rather pluck on laughter than revenge.

Oliv. Alas, poor fool, how have they baffled thee! Clown. Why," Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust. upon them." I was one, sir, in this interlude; one Sir Topas, sir; but that's all one :-"By the lord, fool, I am not mad:" But do you remember, madam,-" Why laugh you at such a barren rascal? and you smile not, he's gagged: and thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges. Mal. I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you!

[Exit. Duke. Pursue him, and entreat him to a peace:He hath not told us of the captain yet; When that is known, and golden time convents,

1

A solemn combination shall be made

Of our dear souls. Mean time, sweet sister,
We will not part from hence.

Antonio, thou hast well deserv'd our thanks,
Thy kind protection of Cesario's person,
(Although you knew not then for whom you fought)
Merits our favour officers, release him!
Henceforth be free-Thou hast a noble spirit,
And, as Sebastian's friend, be ever near him.
Cesario, come;

(For so you shall be, while you are a man ;)
But, when in other habits you are seen,
Orsino's mistress, and his fancy's queen.

CLOWN sings.

When that I was a little tiny boy,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
A foolish thing was but a toy,

For the rain it raineth every day.
But when I came to man's estate,

With hey, ho, &c.

'Gainst knaves and thieves, men shut their gate,

For the rain, &c.

But when I came, alas! to wive,

With hey, ho, &c.

By swaggering could I never thrive,

For the rain, &c.

But when I came unto my beds,

With hey, ho, &c.

With toss-pots still had drunken heads,

For the rain, &c.

A great while ago the world begun,
With hey, ho, &c.

But that's all one, our play is done;

And we'll strive to please you every day.

[Exeunt omnes.

THE END.

A COMEDY,

IN FIVE ACTS;

BY BEN JONSON.

AS PERFORMED AT THE THEATRES ROYAL,

DRURY LANE AND COVENT GARDEN.

PRINTED UNDER THE AUTHORITY OF THE MANAGERS

FROM THE PROMPT BOOK.

WITH REMARKS

BY MRS. INCHBALD.

LONDON:

PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, AND ORME,