Shakespeare's First Folio Part 232

To. I haue beene deere to him lad, some two thousand strong, or so

Fa. We shall haue a rare Letter from him; but you'le not deliuer't

To. Neuer trust me then: and by all meanes stirre on the youth to an answer. I thinke Oxen and waine-ropes cannot hale them together. For Andrew, if he were open'd and you finde so much blood in his Liuer, as will clog the foote of a flea, Ile eate the rest of th' anatomy

Fab. And his opposit the youth beares in his visage no great presage of cruelty.

Enter Maria.

To. Looke where the youngest Wren of mine comes

Mar. If you desire the spleene, and will laughe your selues into st.i.tches, follow me; yond gull Maluolio is turned Heathen, a verie Renegatho; for there is no christian that meanes to be saued by beleeuing rightly, can euer beleeue such impossible pa.s.sages of grossenesse. Hee's in yellow stockings

To. And crosse garter'd?

Mar. Most villanously: like a Pedant that keepes a Schoole i'th Church: I haue dogg'd him like his murtherer.

He does obey euery point of the Letter that I dropt, to betray him: He does smile his face into more lynes, then is in the new Mappe, with the augmentation of the Indies: you haue not seene such a thing as tis: I can hardly forbeare hurling things at him, I know my Ladie will strike him: if shee doe, hee'l smile, and take't for a great fauour

To. Come bring vs, bring vs where he is.

Exeunt. Omnes.

Scaena Tertia.

Enter Sebastian and Anthonio.

Seb. I would not by my will haue troubled you, But since you make your pleasure of your paines, I will no further chide you

Ant. I could not stay behinde you: my desire (More sharpe then filed steele) did spurre me forth, And not all loue to see you (though so much As might haue drawne one to a longer voyage) But iealousie, what might befall your trauell, Being skillesse in these parts: which to a stranger, Vnguided, and vnfriended, often proue Rough, and vnhospitable. My willing loue, The rather by these arguments of feare Set forth in your pursuite

Seb. My kinde Anthonio, I can no other answer make, but thankes, And thankes: and euer oft good turnes, Are shuffel'd off with such vncurrant pay: But were my worth, as is my conscience firme, You should finde better dealing: what's to do?

Shall we go see the reliques of this Towne?

Ant. To morrow sir, best first go see your Lodging?

Seb. I am not weary, and 'tis long to night I pray you let vs satisfie our eyes With the memorials, and the things of fame That do renowne this City

Ant. Would youl'd pardon me: I do not without danger walke these streetes.

Once in a sea-fight 'gainst the Count his gallies, I did some seruice, of such note indeede, That were I tane heere, it would sca.r.s.e be answer'd

Seb. Belike you slew great number of his people

Ant. Th' offence is not of such a b.l.o.o.d.y nature, Albeit the quality of the time, and quarrell Might well haue giuen vs b.l.o.o.d.y argument: It might haue since bene answer'd in repaying What we tooke from them, which for Traffiques sake Most of our City did. Onely my selfe stood out, For which if I be lapsed in this place I shall pay deere

Seb. Do not then walke too open

Ant. It doth not fit me: hold sir, here's my purse, In the South Suburbes at the Elephant Is best to lodge: I will bespeake our dyet, Whiles you beguile the time, and feed your knowledge With viewing of the Towne, there shall you haue me

Seb. Why I your purse?

Ant. Haply your eye shall light vpon some toy You haue desire to purchase: and your store I thinke is not for idle Markets, sir

Seb. Ile be your purse-bearer, and leaue you For an houre

Ant. To th' Elephant

Seb. I do remember.

Exeunt.

Scoena Quarta.

Enter Oliuia and Maria.

Ol. I haue sent after him, he sayes hee'l come: How shall I feast him? What bestow of him?

For youth is bought more oft, then begg'd, or borrow'd.

I speake too loud: Where's Maluolio, he is sad, and ciuill, And suites well for a seruant with my fortunes, Where is Maluolio?

Mar. He's comming Madame: But in very strange manner. He is sure possest Madam

Ol. Why what's the matter, does he raue?

Mar. No Madam, he does nothing but smile: your Ladys.h.i.+p were best to haue some guard about you, if hee come, for sure the man is tainted in's wits

Ol. Go call him hither.

Enter Maluolio.

I am as madde as hee, If sad and merry madnesse equall bee.

How now Maluolio?

Mal. Sweet Lady, ho, ho

Ol. Smil'st thou? I sent for thee vpon a sad occasion

Mal. Sad Lady, I could be sad: This does make some obstruction in the blood: This crosse-gartering, but what of that?

If it please the eye of one, it is with me as the very true Sonnet is: Please one, and please all

Mal. Why how doest thou man?

What is the matter with thee?

Mal. Not blacke in my minde, though yellow in my legges: It did come to his hands, and Commaunds shall be executed. I thinke we doe know the sweet Romane hand

Ol. Wilt thou go to bed Maluolio?

Mal. To bed? I sweet heart, and Ile come to thee

Ol. G.o.d comfort thee: Why dost thou smile so, and kisse thy hand so oft?

Mar. How do you Maluolio?

Maluo. At your request: Yes Nightingales answere Dawes

Mar. Why appeare you with this ridiculous boldnesse before my Lady

Mal. Be not afraid of greatnesse: 'twas well writ

Ol. What meanst thou by that Maluolio?

Mal. Some are borne great