to the count's serving man, than ever she bestowed upon me; I saw't i'the orchard. Sir To. Did she see thee the while, old boy? tell me that. Sir And. As plain as I see you now. Fab. This was a great argument of love in her toward you. Sir And. 'Slight! will you make an ass o'me? Fab. I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of judgment and reason. Sir To. And they have been grand jurymen, since before Noah was a sailor. Fab. She did show favour to the youth in your sight, only to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse valour, to put fire in your heart, and brimstone in your liver: You shou'd then have accosted her; and with some excellent jest, fire new from the mint, you should have banged the youth into dumbness. This was looked for at your hand, and this was baulked the double gilt of this opportunity you let time wash off, and you are now sailed into the north of my lady's opinion; where you will hang like an icicle on a Dutchman's beard, unless yon do redeem it by some laudable attempt, either of valour, or policy. Sir And. And't be any way, it must be with valour; for policy I hate; I had as lief be a Brownist, as a politician." Sir To. Why then, build me thy fortunes upon the basis of valour. Challenge me the count's youth to fight with him; hurt him in eleven places; my nice shall take note of it; and assure thyself, there is no love-broker in the world can more prevail in man's commendation with woman, than report of valour. Fab. There is no way but this, sir Andrew. Sir And. Will either of you bear me a challenge to him? Sir To. Go, write it in a martial hand: be curst and brief; it is no matter how witty, so it be eloquent, and full of invention: taunt him with the licence of ink: if thou thou'st him some thrice, it shall not be amiss; and as many lies as will lie in thy sheet of paper, although the sheet were big enough for the bed of Ware in England, set 'em down go, about it. Let there be gall enough in thy ink. though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter: About it. Sir And. Where shall I find you? Sir To. We'll call thee at the cubiculo: Go. [Exit Sir Andrew. Fab. This is a dear manakin to you, sir Toby. Sir To. I have been dear to him, lad; some two thousand strong, or so. Fab. We shall have a rare letter from him: but you'll not deliver it. Sir To. Never trust me then; and by all means stir on the youth to an answer. I think, oxen and wain-ropes cannot hale them together. For Andrew, if he were opened, and you find so much blood in his liver as will clog the foot of a flea, I'll eat the rest of the anatomy. Fab. And his opposite, the youth, bears in his visage no great presage of cruelty. Enter Maria. Sir To. Look, where the youngest wren of nine comes. Mar. If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourselves into stitches, follow me: you' gull Malvolio is turned heathen, a very renegado; for there is no Christian, that means to be saved by believing rightly, can ever believe such impossible passages of grossness. He's in yellow stockings. Sir To. And cross-gartered? Mar. Most villanously like a pedant that keeps a school i'the church.-I have dogged him, like his murderer: he does obey every point of the letter that I dropped to betray him. He does smile his face into more lines, than are in the new map, with the angmentation of the Indies: you have not seen such a thing as 'tis; I can hardly forbear hurling things at him. I know, my lady will strike him; if she do, he'll smile, and take't for a great favour. Sir To. Come, bring us, bring us where he is. SCENE III. A Street. Enter Antonio and Sebastian. [Exeunt. Seb. I would not, by my will, have troubled you; But, since you make your pleasure of your pains, I will no further chide you. My kind Antonio, I can no other answer make, but thanks, I I do not without danger walk these streets : Do not then walk too open. Ant. Haply, your eye shall light upon some toy You have desire to purchase; and your store, I think, is not for idle markets, sir. Seb. I'll be your purse-bearer, and leave you for An hour. Oli. I have sent after him: He says, he'll come; How shall I feast him what bestow on him? For youth is bought more oft, than begg'd, or borI speak too loud. [row'd. Where is Malvolio -he is sad, and civil, And suits well for a servant with my fortunes; Where is Malvolio? Mar. He's coming, madam; But in strange manner. He is sure possess'd. Oli. Why, what's the matter? does he rave? No, madam, Mar. He does nothing but smile: your ladyship Were best have guard about you, if he come; For, sure, the man is tainted in his wits. Oli. Go call him hither.-I'm as mad as he, If sad and merry madness equal be. Enter Malvolio. How now, Malvolio? I Mal. Sweet lady, ho, ho. [Smiles fantastically. Oli. Smil'st thou ? sent for thee upon a sad occasion. Mal. Sad, lady! I could be sad this does make some obstruction in the blood, this cross-gartering: but what of that, if it please the eye of one, it is with me as the very true sonnet is: Please one, and please all. Oli. Why, how dost thou, man? what is the matter with thee? Mal. Not black in my mind, though yellow in my legs: It did come to his hands, and commands shall be executed. I think, we do know the sweet Roman hand. Oli. Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio? Mal. To bed! ay, sweetheart; and I'll come to thee. Oli. God comfort thee! why dost thou smile so, and kiss thy hand so oft! Oli. Cross-gartered? Fab. If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction. Sir To. His very genius hath taken the infection of the device, man. Mar. Nay, pursue him now; lest the device take air, and taint. Fab. Why, we shall make him mad, indeed. Sir To. Come, we'll have him in a dark room, and Mal. Go to thou art made if thou desirest to be bound. My niece is already in the belief that he is 80; Oli. Am I made? Mal. If not, let me see thee a servant still. Enter Servant. Ser. Madam, the young gentleman of the count Orsino's is returned; I could hardly entreat him back: he attends your ladyship's pleasure. Oli. I'll come to him. [Exit Servant.] Good Maria, let this fellow be looked to. Where's my cousin Toby? Let some of my people have a special care of him: I would not have him miscarry for the half of my dowry. mad; we may carry it thus for our pleasure, and his penance, till our very pastime, tired out of breath, prompt us to have mercy on him at which time, we will bring the device to the bar, and crown thee for a finder of madmen. But see, but see. Enter Sir Andrew Ague-cheek. Fab. More matter for a May morning. Sir And. Here's the challenge, read it; I warrant, there's vinegar and pepper in't. Fab. Is't so saucy! Sir And. Ay, is it, I warrant him: do but read. art, thou art but a scurvy fellow. Sir To. Give me. [Reads] Youth, whatsoever thou Fab. Good, and valiant. why I do call thee so, for I will show thee no reason of the law. Sir To. Thou comest to the lady Olivia, and in my [Exeunt Olivia and Maria. Mal. Oh, ho! do you come near me now? no worse man than sir Toby to look to me? This concurs directly with the letter: she sends him on purpose, that I may appear stubborn to him; for she incites me to that in the letter. Cast the humble slough, says she; be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants, -let thy tongue tang with arguments of state,-put thyself into the trick of singularity; and, conse-sight she uses thee kindly; but thou liest in thy throat, quently, sets down the manner how; as, a sad face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in the habit of some sir of note, and so forth. I have limed her but it is Jove's doing, and Jove make me thankful! And, when she went away now, Let this fellow be looked to: Fellow! not Malvolio, not after my degree, but fellow. Why, thing adheres toge ther; that no dram of a no scruple of a scru ple, no obstacle, no incredulous or unsafe circumstance, What can be said? Nothing, that can be, can come between me and the full prospect of my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked. Sir To. Thou killest me like a rogue and a villain. Sir To. Fare thee well; And God have mercy upon Sir To. If this letter move him not, his legs cannot I'll give't him. Re-enter Maria, with Sir Toby Belch and Fabian. Sir To. Which way is be, in the name of sanctity? Mar. You may have very fit occasion for't; he is If all the devils in hell be drawn in little, and Le-now in some commerce with my lady, and will by gion himself possessed him, yet I'll speak to him. and by depart. Fab. Here he is, here he is :-How is't with you, sir? how is't with you, man? Mal. Go off; I discard you; let me enjoy my private; go off. Mar. Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did not I tell you ?-Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a care of him. Mal. Ah, ha! does she so? Sir To. Go to, go to; peace, peace, we must deal gently with him; let me alone. How do you, Malvolio? how is't with you? What, man! defy the devil: consider, he's an enemy to mankind. Mal. Do you know what you say? corner of the orchard, like a bum-bailiff: so soon as Sir And. Nay, let me alone for swearing. [Exit. behaviour of the young gentleman gives him out to be ing, if I live. My lady would not lose him for more opinion of his rage, skill, fury, and impetuosity. This than I'll say. Mal. How now, mistress? Mar. O lord! Sir To. Pr'ythee, hold thy peace; this is not the way: Do you not see, you move him? let me alone with him. Fab. No way but gentleness; gently, gently: the fiend is rough, and will not be roughly used. Sir To. Why, how now, my bawcock? how dost thou, chuck? Mal. Sir? Sir To. Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, man! 'tis not for gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan : Hang him, foul collier! Vio. With the same 'haviour that your passion Go on my master's griefs. [bears, Oli. Here, wear this jewel for me, 'tis my picture; Refuse it not, it hath no tongue to vex you: And, I beseech you, come again to-morrow. What shall you ask of me, that I'll deny; That honour, sav'd, may upon asking give? Vio. Nothing but this, your true love for my master. Oli. How with mine honour may I give him that Which I have given to you? Vio. I will acquit you! Oli. Well, come again to-morrow: Fare thee well; A fiend, like thee, might bear my soul to hell. [Exit. Re-enter Sir Toby Belch and Fabian. Sir To. Gentleman, God save thee. Sir To. That defence thou hast, betake thee to't of what nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, 1 know not; but thy intercepter, full of despite, bloody as the hunter, attends thee at the orchard end: dismount thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation, for thy assailant is quick, skilful, and deadly. Vio. You mistake, sir; I am sure, no man hath any quarrel to me; my remembrance is very free and clear from any image of offence done to any man. Sir To. You'll find it otherwise, I assure you : therefore, if you hold your life at any price, betake you to your guard; for your opposite bath in him what youth, strength, skill, and wrath, can furnish man withal. Vio. I pray you, sir, what is he? Sir To. He is knight, dubbed with unhacked rapier, and on carpet consideration; but he is a devil in private brawl: souls and bodies hath he divorced three; and his incensement at this moment is so implacable, that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death and sepulchre: hob nob, is his word; give't," or take't. Vio. I will return again into the house, and desire some conduct of the lady. I am no fighter. I have heard of some kind of men, that put quarrels purposely on others, to taste their valour: belike, this is a man of that quirk. Sir To. Sir, no; his indignation derives itself out of a very competent injury; therefore, get you on, and give him his desire. Back you shall not to the house, unless you undertake that with me, which with as much safety you might answer him; therefore, on, or strip your sword stark naked; for meddle you must, that's certain, or forswear to wear iron about you. Vio. This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you, do me this courteous office, as to know of the knight what my offence to him is; it is something of my negligence, nothing of my purpose. Sir To. I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by this gentleman till my return. [Exit. Vio. Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter? Fab. I know the knight is incensed against you, even to a mortal arbitrement; but nothing of the cir cumstance more, Vio. I beseech you, what manner of man is he? Fab. Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read him by his form, as you are like to find him in the proof of his valour. He is, indeed, sir, the most skilful, bloody, and fatal opposite that you could possibly have found in any part of Illyria: "will you walk towards him? I will make your peace with him, if I can. Vio. I shall be much bound to you for't: I am one, that would rather go with sir priest, than sir knight: I care not who knows so much of my mettle. [Exeunt. Re-enter Sir Toby, with Sir Andrew. Sir To. Why, man, he's a very devil; I have not seen such a virago. I had a pass with him, rapier, scabbard, and all, and he gives me the stuck-in, with such a mortal motion, that it is inevitable; and on the answer, he pays you as surely as your feet hit the ground they step on they say he has been fencer to the Sophy. Sir And. Pox on't, I'll not meddle with him. Sir To. Ay, but he will not now be pacified: Fabian can scarce hold him yonder. Sir And. Plague on't; an I thought he had been valiant, and so cunning in fence, I'd have seen him damned ere I'd have challenged him. Let him let the matter slip, and I'll give him my horse, gray Capilet. Sir To. I'll make the motion: stand here, make a good show on't; this shall end without the perdition of souls: marry, I'll ride your horse as well as I ride you. [Aside. Re-enter Fabian and Viola. I have persuaded him, the youth's a devil. Fab. He is as horribly conceited of him; and pants, and looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels. Sir To. There's no remedy, sir; he will fight with you for his oath sake: marry, he had better bethought him of his quarrel, and he finds that now scarce to be worth talking of: therefore, draw for the supportance of his vow; he protests he will not hurt you. Vio. Pray God defend me! A little thing would make me tell them how much I lack of a man. [Aside. Fab. Give ground, if you see him furious. Sir To. Come, sir Andrew, there's no remedy; the gentleman will, for his honour's sake, have one bout with you: he cannot by the duello avoid it; but he has promised me, as he is a gentleman and a soldier, he will not hurt you. Come on; to't. Sir And. Pray God, he keep his oath! Enter Antonio. [Draws. Vio. I do assure you, 'tis against my will. [Draws. Ant. Put up your sword ;--If this young gentleman If you offend him, I for him defy you. Have done offence, I take the fault on me; [Drawing. Sir To. You, sir? why, what are you? Than you have heard him brag to you he will. Ant. One, sir, that for his love dares yet do more, Sir To. Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for you. [Draws. Enter two Officers. Fab. O good sir Toby, hold; here come the officers. Sir To. I'll be with you anon. [To Antonio. Vio. Pray, sir, put up your sword, if you please. [To Sir Andrew. mised you, I'll be as good as my word: He will bear Sir And. Marry, will I, sir?-and, for that I pro you easily, and reins well. 1 Off. This is the man; do thy office. Of count Orsino. 2 Off. Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit Ant. You do mistake me, sir. 1 Off. No, sir, no jot; I know your favour well, Take him away; he knows, I know him well. Though now you have no sea-cap on your head. Ant. I must obey.-This comes with seeking you; What will you do? Now my necessity But there's no remedy; I shall answer it. Makes me to ask you for my purse: It grieves me Mach more, for what I cannot do for you, Than what befalls myself. You stand amaz'd; But be of comfort. 2 Off. Come, sir, away. Ant. I must entreat of you some of that money. And, part, being prompted by your present trouble, Ant. Will you deny me now? Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery, Is't possible, that my deserts to you Lest that it make me so unsound a man, That I have done for you. As to upbraid you with those kindnesses Vio. I know of none; Nor know I you by voice or any feature: Inhabits our frail blood. Ant. O heavens themselves! 2 Off. Come, sir, I pray you, go. [see here, Ant. Let me speak a little. This youth that you I snatch'd one half out of the jaws of death; Reliev'd him with such sanctity of love,And to his image, which, methought, did promise Most venerable worth, did I devotion. 1 Off. What's that to us? The time goes by; away. Ant. But, O, how vile, an idol proves this god!-Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame.In nature there's no blemish, but the mind; None can be call'd deform'd, but the unkind: Virtue is beauty; but the beauteous-evil Are empty trunks, o'erflourish'd by the devil. 1 Off. The man grows mad; away with him. Come, come, sir. Ant. Lead me on. [Exeunt Officers, with Antonio. Vio. Methinks, his words do from such passion fly, That he believes himself; so do not I. Fab. A coward,a most devout coward, religious in it. SCENE I. The Street before Olivia's House. Clo. 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 master Cesario; nor this is not my nose neither.-Nothing, that is so, is so. Seb. I pr'ythee, 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 am afraid this great lubber, the world, will prove a cockney. 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 Greek, depart from me; Clo. By my troth, thou hast an open hand :-These wise men, that give fools money, get themselves a good report 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. 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 be any law in Illyria: though 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 fleshed; come on. Seb. I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou now? If thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword. [Draws. Sir To. What, what? Nay, then I must have an ounce or two of this malapert blood from you. [ Draws. Enter Olivia. Oli. Hold, Toby; on thy life, Icharge thee, hold. Oli. Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch, Clo. Well, I'll put it on, and I will dissemble myself in't; and I would I were the first that ever dissembled in such a gown. I am not fat enough to become the function well; nor lean enough to be thought a good student; but to be said, an honest man, and a good housekeeper, goes fairly, as to say, a careful man, and a great scholar. The competitors enter. Enter Sir Toby Belch and Maria. Sir To. Jove bless thee, master parson. Clo. Bonos dies, Sir Toby: for as the old hermit of Pragne, that never saw pen and ink, very wittily said to a niece of king Gorbod uc, That, that is, is so 1, being master parson, am master parson; for what is that, but that? and is, but is? Sir To. To him, Sir Topas. Clo. What, hoa, I say,-Peace in this prison ! Mal. Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to my lady. Clo. Out, hyperbolical fiend! how vexest thou this man? talkest thou nothing but of ladies? Sir To. Well said, master parson, Mal. Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged! good Sir Topas, do not think I am mad; they have laid me here in hideous darkness. Clo. Fie, thou dishonest Sathan! 1 call thee by the most modest terms; for I am one of those gentle ones, that will use the devil himself with courtesy: say'st thou, that house is dark? Mal. As hell, Sir Topas. Clo. Why, it hath bay-windows, transparent as barricadoes, and the clear stones towards the south-north are as lustrous as ebony; and yet complainest thou of obstruction? Mal. I am not mad, Sir Topas; I say to you, this house is dark. Clo. Madman, thou errest: I say, there is no darkness, but ignorance; in which thou art more puzzled, than the Egyptians in their fog. Mal. I say, this house is as dark as ignorance, though ignorance were as dark as hell; and I say, there was never man thus abused: I am no more mad than you are; make the trial of it in any constant question. Clo. What is the opinion of Pythagoras, concerning wild-fow!? Mal. That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird. Clo. What thinkest thou of his opinion? Mal. I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his opinion. Clo. Fare thee well: remain thou still in darkness: thou shalt hold the opinion of Pythagoras, ere I will allow of thy wits; and fear to kill a woodcock, lest thou dispossess the soul of thy grandam. Fare thee well. Mal. Sir Topas, Sir Topas, Sir To. My most exquisite Sir 'Topas ! Mar. Thou might'st have done this without thy beard, and gown; he sees thee not. Sir To. To him in thine own voice, and bring me word how thou findest him: I would we were well rid of this knavery. If he may be conveniently deFabian.livered, I would he were; for I am now so far in offence with my niece, that I cannot pursue with any safety this sport to the upshot. Come by and by to my chamber. [Exeunt Sir Toby and Maria. Clo. Hey, Robin, jolly Robin, Tell me how thy lady does. Mal. Fool, [Singing. Clo. My lady is unkind, perdy. Clo. Alas, why is she so? Mal. Fool, I say ; Clo. She loves another-Who calls, ha? Mal. Good fool, as ever thou wilt deserve well at my hand, help me to a candle, and pen, ink, and paper; as I am a gentleman, I will live to be thankful to thee for't. Clo. Master Malvolio! Mal. Ay, good fool. Clo. Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits? Mal. Fool, there was never man so notoriously abused: I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art. Clo. But as well? then you are mad, indeed, if you be no better in your wits than a fool. Mal. They have here propertied me; keep me in darkness, send ministers to me, asses, and do all they can to face me out of my wits. Clo. Advise you what you say; the minister is here. -Malvolio, Malvolio, thy wits the heavens restore ! endeavour thyself to sleep, and leave thy vain bibble babble. Mal. Sir Topas, Clo. Maintain no words with him, good fellow.Who, I, sir? not I, sir. God b'wi'you, good Sir Topas. Marry, amen.-I will, sir, I will. Mal. Fool, fool, fool, I say, Clo. Alas, sir, be patient. What say you, sir? I am shent for speaking to you. Mal. Good fool, help me to some light, and some paper; I tell thee, I am as well in my wits, as any man in Illyria. Clo. Well-a-day,-that you were, sir! Mal. By this hand, I am: good fool, some ink, paper, and light, and convey what I will set down to my lady; it shall advantage thee more than ever the bearing of letter did. Clo. I will help you to't. But tell me true, are you not mad, indeed? or do you but counterfeit ! Mal. Believe me, I am not; I tell thee true. Clo. Nay, I'll ne'er believe a madman, till I see his brains. I will fetch you light, and paper, and ink. Mal. Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree: I pr'ythee, be gone. Clo. I am gone, sir, In a trice; Like to the old vice, You need to sustain ; Who with dagger of lath, Like a mad lad, Pare thy nails, dad, Adieu, goodman drivel. SCENE III. Olivia's Garden. Enter Sebastian. [Exit. Seb. This is the air; that is the glorious sun; She could not sway her house, command her followers, Oli. Blame not this baste of mine: if you mean well, SCENE I. The Street before Olivia's House. Fab. Now, as thou lovest me, let me see his letter. Clo. Do not desire to see this letter. Fab. That is, to give a dog, and, in recompense, desire my dog again. Enter Duke, Viola, and Attendants. Clo. Tru'y, sir, the better for my foes, and the worse for my friends. Duke. Just the contrary; the better for thy friends. Duke. How can that be? of me; now my foes tell me plainly I am an ass: 50 Clo. Marry, sir, they praise me, and make an ass that by my foes, sir, I profit in the knowledge of myself: and by my friends I am abused: so that, conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives make your two affirmatives, why, then the worse for my friends, and the better for my foes. Duke. Why, this is excellent. Clo. By my troth, sir, no; though it please you to be one of my friends. Duke. Thou shalt not be the worse for me: there's gold. Clo. But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I would you could make it another. Duke. O, you give me ill counsel. Clo. Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this once, and let your flesh and blood obey it. Duke. Well, I will be so much a sinner to be a double dealer; there's another. Clo. Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play; and the old saying is, the third pays for all the triplex, sir, is a good tripping measure; or the bells of St. Bennet, sir, may put you in mind; One, two, three. Duke. You can fool no more money out of me at this throw if you will let your lady know, I am here to speak with her, and bring her along with you, it may awake my bounty further. Clo. Marry, sir, lullaby to your bounty, till I come Enter Antonio and Officers. That took the Phoenix, and her fraught, from Candy; Vio. He did me kindness, sir; drew on my side; Duke. Notable pirate! thou salt-water thief! Ant. Orsino, noble sir, |