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John Bell [1774], Bell's Edition of Shakespeare's Plays, As they are now performed at the Theatres Royal in London; Regulated from the Prompt Books of each House By Permission; with Notes Critical and Illustrative; By the Authors of the Dramatic Censor (Printed for John Bell... and C. Etherington [etc.], York) [word count] [S10401].
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Scene SCENE, the street. Enter Sebastian and Clown.

Clown.
Will you make me believe that I am not sent for you?

Seb.
Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow.
Let me be clear of thee.

Clo.

Well held out, i'faith: no, I do not know you, nor I am not sent to you by my lady, to bid you come speak with her; nor your name is not

-- 369 --

master Cesario, nor this is not my nose, neither; nothing that is so, is so.

Seb.

I pry'thee, vent thy folly somewhere else; thou know'st not me.

Clo.

Vent my folly! he has heard that word of some great man, and now applies it to a fool. Vent my folly! I pr'ythee now, ungird thy strangeness, and tell me what I shall vent to my lady; shall I vent to her that thou art coming?

Seb.

I pr'ythee, foolish geck, depart from me; there's money for thee. If you tarry longer, I shall give worse payment.

Clo.

These wise men that give fools money, get themselves a good report,† note after fourteen years purchase.

Enter Sir Andrew, Sir Toby, and Fabian.

Sir And.

Now, Sir, have I met you again? there's for you.

[Striking Sebastian.

Seb.

Why, there's for thee, and there, and there: are all the people mad?

[Beating Sir Andrew.

Sir To.

Hold, Sir, or I'll throw your dagger o'er the house.

Clo.

This will I tell my lady straight: I would not be in some of your coats, for two pence.

[Exit Clown.

Sir To.

Come on, Sir, hold.

[Holding Sebastian.

Sir And.

Nay let him alone, I'll go another way to work with him; I'll have an action of battery against him, if there's any law in Illyria; tho' I struck him first, yet it's no matter for that?

Seb.

Let go thy hand.

Sir To.

Come, Sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier, put up your iron; you are well flesh'd: come on.

-- 370 --

Seb.

I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou now? if thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword.

Sir To.

What, what? nay then I must have an ounce or two of this malapert blood from you.* note

[They draw and fight.

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John Bell [1774], Bell's Edition of Shakespeare's Plays, As they are now performed at the Theatres Royal in London; Regulated from the Prompt Books of each House By Permission; with Notes Critical and Illustrative; By the Authors of the Dramatic Censor (Printed for John Bell... and C. Etherington [etc.], York) [word count] [S10401].
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