Cesario, by the roses of the spring,

By maidhood, honour, truth, and every thing,
I love thee fo, that, maugre all thy pride,
Nor wit, nor reason, can my paffion hide.
Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,
For, that I woo, thou therefore haft no cause :
But, rather, reason thus with reason fetter;
Love fought is good, but given unfought is better.
V10. By innocence I fwear, and by my youth,
I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth,
And that no woman has; nor ever none
Shall mistress be of it, fave I alone.

And fo adieu, good madam; never more
Will I my master's tears to you deplore.

OLI. Yet come again; for thou, perhaps, may'ft move That heart, which now abhors, to like his love. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. A Room in Olivia's House. Enter Sir TOBY, Sir ANDREW, and FABIAN. Sir A. No, 'faith, I'll not ftay a jot longer. Sir T. Thy reason, dear venom, give thy reason. FAB. You must needs yield your reason, fir Andrew. Sir A. Marry, I faw your niece do more favours to the count's fervingman, than ever she bestow'd upon me; I faw't i'the orchard.

Sir T. Did the fee thee the while, old boy; tell me that? Sir A. As plain as I fee you now.

FAB. This was a great argument of love in her toward you.

Sir A. 'Slight, will you make an afs o'me?

FAB. I will prove it legitimate, fir, upon the oaths of judgment and reason.

Sir T. And they have been grand-jury-men, fince before Noah was a failor.

FAB. She did fhew favour to the youth in your fight, only to exafperate you, to awake your dormouse valour, to put fire in your heart, and brimftone in your liver: You should then have accofted her; and with fome excellent jefts, fire-new from the mint, you should have bang'd the youth into dumbness: this was look'd for at your hand, and this was baulk'd: the double gilt of this opportunity you let time wash off, and you are now fail'd into the north of my lady's opinion; where you will hang like an ificle on a Dutchman's beard, unlefs you do redeem it by fome laudable attempt, either of valour, or policy.

Sir A. An't be any way, it must be with valour; for policy I hate: I had as lief be a Brownist, as a po

litician.

Sir T. Why then, build me thy fortunes upon the bafis of valour. Challenge me the count's youth to fight with him; hurt him in eleven places; my niece shall take note of it: and affure thyfelf, there is no lovebroker in the world can more prevail in man's commendation with woman, than report of valour.

FAB. There is no way but this, fir Andrew.

Sir A. Will either of you bear me a challenge to him? Sir T. Go, write it in a martial hand, be curft, and brief: it is no matter how witty, fo it be eloquent, and full of invention: taunt him with the licence of ink: if thou thou'ft him fome thrice, it fhall not be amifs; and as many lies as will lye 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; though thou write with a goose

pen, no matter: About it.

Sir A. Where shall I find you?

Sir T. We'll call thee at the cubiculo: Go.

[Exit Sir ANDREW. FAB. This is a dear manakin to you, fir Toby. Sir T. I have been dear to him, lad; fome two thousand ftrong, or fo.

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

Sir T. Never trust me then; and by all means stir 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 rest o'the anatomy.

FAB. And his opposite, the youth, bears in his visage no great prefage of cruelty.

Enter MARIA.

Sir T. Look, where the youngest wren of nine comes. MAR. If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourfelves into fide-stitches, follow me: yon' gull Mal-volio is turn'd heathen, a very renegado; for there is no christian, that means to be faved by believing rightly, can ever believe fuch impoffible paffages of groffness. He's in yellow stockings.

Sir T. And cross-garter'd ?

MAR. Moft villanoufly; like a pedant that keeps a fchool i'the church. I have dog'd him like his murtherer: He does obey every point of the letter that I drop'd to betray him he does smile his face into more lines, than is in the new map, with the augmentation

20 of mine

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 strike him; if she do, he'll fmile, and take't for a great favour.

Sir T. Come, bring us, bring us where he is. [Exeunt.

SCENE III. A Street.

Enter SEBASTIAN, and ANTONIO.

SEB. I would not, by my will, have troubl'd you;
But, fince you make your pleasure of your pains,
I will no further chide you.

ANT. I could not ftay behind you; my desire,
More sharp than filed fteel, did fpur me forth :
And not all love to fee you, (though fo much,
As might have drawn one to a longer voyage)
But jealoufy what might befal your travel,
Being skillefs 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; and oft good turns
Are fhuff'd off with fuch uncurrent pay:
But, were my worth, as is my conscience, firm,
You fhould find better dealing. What's to do?
Shall we go fee the reliques of this town?

ANT. To-morrow, fir; beft, firft, go fee your lodging.
SEB. I am not weary, and 'tis long to night;

I pray you, let us fatiffy 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 count 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.
ANT. The offence is not of fuch 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 repaving
What we took from them; which, for traffick's fake,
Moft 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.

ANT. It doth not fit me. Hold, fir, here's my purse: In the fouth fuburbs, at the elephant,

Is beft to lodge: I will befpeak our diet,

While you beguile the time, and feed your knowledge, With viewing of the town; there shall you have me. SEB. Why I your purse?

ANT. Haply, your eye fhall light upon

fome toy

You have desire to purchase; and your store,

I think, is not for idle markets, fir.

SEB. I'll be your purse-bearer, and leave you for

An hour.

ANT. To the elephant:

SEB. I do remember.

[Exeunt feverally.

SCENE IV. Olivia's Garden.

Enter OLIVIA, and MARIA,