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Twelfe Night, Or what you will Page: 40
Ant. But oh, how vilde an idoll proues this God:
Thou hast Sebastian done good feature, shame.
In Nature, there's no blemish but the minde:
None can be call'd deform'd, but the vnkinde.
Vertue is beauty, but the beauteous euill
Are empty trunkes, ore-flourish'd by the deuill
1.Off. The man growes mad, away with him:
Come, come sir
Ant. Leade me on.
Exit
Vio. Me thinkes his words do from such passion flye
That he beleeues himselfe, so do not I:
Proue true imagination, oh proue true,
That I deere brother, be now tane for you
To. Come hither Knight, come hither Fabian: Weel
whisper ore a couplet or two of most sage sawes
Vio. He nam'd Sebastian: I my brother know
Yet liuing in my glasse: euen such, and so
In fauour was my Brother, and he went
Still in this fashion, colour, ornament,
For him I imitate: Oh if it proue,
Tempests are kinde, and salt waues fresh in loue
To. A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward
then a Hare, his dishonesty appeares, in leauing his frend
heere in necessity, and denying him: and for his cowardship
aske Fabian
Fab. A Coward, a most deuout Coward, religious in
it
And. Slid Ile after him againe, and beate him
To. Do, cuffe him soundly, but neuer draw thy sword
And. And I do not
Fab. Come, let's see the euent
To. I dare lay any money, twill be nothing yet.
Exit
Actus Quartus, Scaena prima.
Enter Sebastian and Clowne
Clo. Will you make me beleeue, that I am not sent for
you?
Seb. Go too, go too, thou art a foolish fellow,
Let me be cleere of thee
Clo. Well held out yfaith: No, I do not know you,
nor I am not sent to you by my Lady, to bid you come
speake with her: nor your name is not Master Cesario,
nor this is not my nose neyther: Nothing that is so, is so
Seb. I prethee vent thy folly some-where else, thou
know'st not me
Clo. Vent my folly: He has heard that word of some
great man, and now applyes it to a foole. Vent my folly:
I am affraid this great lubber the World will proue a
Cockney: I prethee now vngird thy strangenes, and tell
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