style="font-size:15px;"> Look where the youngest wren of nine comes.[Enter MARIA.]
MARIA. If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourselves into stitches, follow me. Yond gull Malvolio is turn’d heathen, a very renegado; for there is no Christian, that means to be sav’d by believing rightly, can ever believe such impossible passages of grossness. He’s in yellow stockings.
SIR TOBY.
And cross-garter’d?
MARIA. Most villainously; like a pedant that keeps a school i’ th’ church. I have dogg’d him, like his murderer. He does obey every point of the letter that I dropp’d to betray him; he does smile his face into more lines than is in the new map, with the augmentation of the Indies: you have not seen such a thing as ‘t is. I can hardly forbear hurling things at him. I know my lady will strike him; if she do, he’ll smile, and take ‘t for a great favour.
SIR TOBY.
Come, bring us, bring us where he is.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE III. A street
[Enter SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO.]
SEBASTIAN.
I would not by my will have troubled you;
But, since you make your pleasure of your pains,
I will no further chide you.
ANTONIO.
I could not stay behind you: my desire,
More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth;
And not all love to see you, though so much
As might have drawn one to a longer voyage,
But jealousy what might befall your travel,
Being skilless 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.
SEBASTIAN.
My kind Antonio,
I can no other answer make but thanks,
And thanks, and ever thanks; too oft good turns
Are shuffl’d off with such uncurrent pay:
But, were my worth as is my conscience firm,
You should find better dealing. What’s to do?
Shall we go see the reliques of this town?
ANTONIO.
Tomorrow, sir; best first go see your lodging.
SEBASTIAN.
I am not weary, and ‘t is long to night;
I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes
With the memorials and the things of fame
That do renown this city.
ANTONIO.
Would you’d pardon me;
I do not without danger walk these streets.
Once, in a sea-fight, ‘gainst the count his galleys
I did some service; of such note indeed,
That, were I ta’en here, it would scarce be answer’d.
SEBASTIAN.
Belike you slew great number of his people.
ANTONIO.
Th’ offence is not of such a bloody nature;
Albeit the quality of the time and quarrel
Might well have given us bloody argument.
It might have since been answer’d in repaying
What we took from them; which, for traffic’s sake,
Most of our city did: only myself stood out;
For which, if I be lapsed in this place,
I shall pay dear.
SEBASTIAN.
Do not then walk too open.
ANTONIO.
It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here’s my purse.
In the south suburbs, at the Elephant,
Is best to lodge. I will bespeak our diet,
Whiles you beguile the time and feed your knowledge
With viewing of the town; there shall you have me.
SEBASTIAN.
Why I your purse?
ANTONIO.
Haply your eye shall light upon some toy
You have desire to purchase; and your store,
I think, is not for idle markets, sir.
SEBASTIAN.
I’ll be your purse-bearer, and leave you
For an hour.
ANTONIO.
To th’ Elephant.
SEBASTIAN.
I do remember.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE IV. OLIVIA’S garden
[Enter OLIVIA and MARIA.]
OLIVIA.
I have sent after him; he says he’ll come.
How shall I feast him? what bestow of him?
For youth is bought more oft than begg’d or borrow’d.
I speak too loud.
Where’s Malvolio? He is sad and civil,
And suits well for a servant with my fortunes.
Where is Malvolio?
MARIA.
