_Mal._ _M_,_O_,_A_,_I_;--This simulation is not as the former:--and yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of these letters are in my name. Soft; here follows prose.--[_Reads. If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I am above thee; but be not afraid of greatness: Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them. To enure thyself to what thou art like to be, cast thy humble slough, and appear fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants. She thus advises thee, that sighs for thee. Remember who commended thy yellow stockings; and wished to see thee ever cross-gartered: I say, remember. Go to; thou art made, if thou desirest to be so; if not, let me see thee a steward still, the fellow of servants, and not worthy to touch fortune's fingers. Farewell. She that would alter services with thee._ _The fortunate-unhappy._ Day-light and champian discovers not more: this is open. I will be proud, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off gross acquaintance, I will be point-de-vice, the very man. I do not now fool myself, to let imagination jade me; for every reason excites to this, that my lady loves me. She did commend my yellow stockings of late, she did praise my leg being cross-gartered:--I thank my stars, I am happy. I will be strange, stout, in yellow stockings, and cross-gartered, even with the swiftness of putting on. Jove, and my stars be praised!--Here is yet a postscript--[_Reads._] _Thou canst not choose but know who I am. If thou entertainest my love, let it appear in thy smiling; thy smiles become thee well: therefore in my presence still smile, dear my sweet, I pr'ythee._ Jove, I thank thee. I will smile; I will do every thing that thou wilt have me. [_Exit_ MALVOLIO. [_They advance from behind the Trees._] _Omnes._ Ha! ha! ha! _Fab._ I will not give my part of this sport for a pension of thousands to be paid from the sophy. _Sir To._ I could marry this wench for this device. _Sir And._ So could I too. _Sir To._ And ask no other dowry with her, but such another jest. _Sir And._ Nor I neither. _Fab._ Here comes my noble gull-catcher. _Enter_ MARIA. _Sir To._ Wilt thou set thy foot o' my neck? _Sir And._ Or o' mine either? _Sir To._ Shall I become thy bond-slave? _Sir And._ Or I either? _Sir To._ Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that when the image of it leaves him, he must run mad. _Mar._ Nay, but say true; does it work upon him? _Sir To._ Like aqua-vitae with a midwife.