SCENE IV. Olivia's Garden.

Enter OLIVIA and MARIA.

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 begged, or borrowed.

I speak too loud.

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 very strange
He is sure possessed, madam.

manner.

Oli. Why, what's the matter? does he rave? Mar. No, madam, he does nothing but smile: your ladyship were best to have some 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!

Mal. Sweet lady, ho, ho.

Oli. Smil'st thou ?

[Smiles fantastically.

I 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?

Mar. How do you,

Malvolio?

Mal. At your request? Yes; nightingales answer daws.

Mar. Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady?

Mal. Be not afraid of greatness:-'twas well writ.
Oli. What meanest thou by that, Malvolio?
Mal. Some are born great,—

Oli. Ha?

Mal. Some achieve greatness,—

Oli. What say'st thou?

Mal. And some have greatness thrust upon them.
Oli. Heaven restore thee!

Mal. Remember, who commended thy yellow stock

ings;

Oli. Thy yellow stockings?

Mal. And wished to see thee cross-gartered.

Oli. Cross-gartered?

Mal. Go to: thou art made, if thou desirest to be

Mal. If not, let me see thee a servant still.

Oli. Why, this is very midsummer madness.1

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.

Good Where's my

Oli. I'll come to him. [Exit Servant.] Maria, let this fellow be looked to.

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. [Exeunt OLIVIA and MARIA.

Mal. Oh, ho! Do you come near me now? No

1 It was an ancient opinion that hot weather affected the brain.

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 thy 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, consequently, 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, nor after my degree, but fellow. Why every thing adheres together; that no dram of a scruple, no scruple of a scruple, 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.

Re-enter MARIA, with SIR TOBY BELCH and FABIAN.

Sir To. Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all the devils in hell be drawn in little, and Legion himself possessed him, yet I'll speak to him.

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?

Mar. La you, an you speak ill of the devil, how he takes it at heart! Pray God, he be not bewitched!

Fab. Carry his water to the wise woman.

Mar. Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning, if I live. My lady would not lose him for more 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!1

Mar. Get him to say his prayers; good Sir Toby, get him to pray.

Mal. My prayers, minx?

Mar. No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godliness.

Mal. Go, hang yourselves all! you are idle, shallow things: I am not of your element; you shall know more hereafter.

[Exit.

Sir To. Is't possible? 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.

Mar. The house will be the quieter.

Sir To. Come, we'll have him in a dark room, and bound. My niece is already in the belief that he is mad; we may carry it thus, for our pleasure, and his penance, till our very pastime, tired out of breath,

1 Collier was in Shakspeare's time a term of the highest reproach.

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 sec.

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.

Sir To. Give me.

[Reads.]

thou art, thou art but a scurry fellow. Fab. Good, and valiant.

Youth, whatsoever

Sir To. Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind, why I do call thee so, for I will show thee no reason for't. Fab. A good note: that keeps you from the blow of the law.

Sir To. Thou comest to the lady Olivia, and in my sight she uses thee kindly: but thou liest in thy throat; that is not the matter I challenge thee for.

Fab. Very brief, and exceeding good sense-less. Sir To. I will waylay thee going home; where if it be thy chance to kill me,

Fab. Good.

Sir To. Thou killest me like a rogue and a villain. Fab. Still you keep o' the windy side of the law: Good.

Sir To. Fare thee well: And God have mercy upon one of our souls! He may have mercy upon mine; but my hope is better, and so look to thyself. Thy friend, as thou usest him, and thy sworn enemy. -ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK.

Sir To. If this letter move him not, his legs cannot : I'll give't him.

Mar. You may have very fit occasion for't; he is now in some commerce with my lady, and will by and by depart.

It was usual on the first of May to exhibit metrical interludes of the comic kind, as well as other sports.