Methinks I feel this youth's [perfections]
With an invisible and subtle stealth
To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.
What ho, Malvolio!
Mal. Here, madam, at your service.
Oli. Run after that same peevish messenger,
The [county's] man: he [left] this ring behind him,
Would I or not: tell him I'll none of it.
Desire him not to flatter with his lord,