It is, in contempt of question, her hand.
SIR ANDREW Her C's, her U's and her T's: why that?
MALVOLIO [Reads] 'To the unknown beloved, this, and my good
wishes:'--her very phrases! By your leave, wax.
Soft! and the impressure her Lucrece, with which she
uses to seal: 'tis my lady. To whom should this be?
FABIAN This wins him, liver and all.
MALVOLIO [Reads]
Jove knows I love: But who?
Lips, do not move;
No man must know.
'No man must know.' What follows? the numbers
altered! 'No man must know:' if this should be
thee, Malvolio?
SIR TOBY BELCH Marry, hang thee, brock!
MALVOLIO [Reads]
I may command where I adore;
But silence, like a Lucrece knife,
With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore:
M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.
FABIAN A fustian riddle!
SIR TOBY BELCH Excellent wench, say I.
MALVOLIO 'M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.' Nay, but first, let
me see, let me see, let me see.
FABIAN What dish o' poison has she dressed him!
SIR TOBY BELCH And with what wing the staniel cheques at it!
MALVOLIO 'I may command where I adore.' Why, she may command
me: I serve her; she is my lady.
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