tickling.[Exit.

[Enter Malvolio.]

Mal. 'Tis but fortune; all is fortune. Maria once told

me she did affect me: and I have heard herself come thus

near, that, should she fancy, it should be one of my complexion.

Besides, she uses me with a more exalted respect

than any one else that follows her. What should I think

on't?

Sir To. Here's an overweening rogue!

Fab. O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock