For youth is bought more oft than begg'd or bor row'd. I speak too loud. Where is Malvolio? he is sad and civil, And suits well for a servant with my fortunes: 5 Mar. He's coming, madam; but in very strange manner. He is, sure, possessed, madam. Oli. Why, what's the matter? does he rave? 10 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 's wits. Oli. Go call him hither. [Exit Maria.] I am as mad as he, If sad and merry madness equal be. Re-enter MARIA, with MALVOLIO. How now, Malvolio! Mal. Sweet lady, ho, ho. Oli. Smilest thou? I sent for thee upon a sad occasion. 15 19 Mal. Sad, lady? I could be sad: this does make some obstruction in the blood, this crossgartering; 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? 25 Mal. Not black in my mind, though yellow in ނ 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, sweet-heart, and I'll come to thee. Oli. God comfort thee! so and kiss thy hand so oft? Mar. 30 Why dost thou smile How do you, Malvolio? Mal. At your request! yes; nightingales answer daws. Mar. Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady? Mal. writ. 36 'Be not afraid of greatness:' 'twas well Oli. What meanest thou by that, Malvolio? Mal. And wished to see thee cross-gartered.' Oli. Cross-gartered! 46 Mal. "Go to, thou art made, if thou desirest to be so ;' 50 Mal. Oli. 'If not, let me see thee a servant still.' Why, this is very midsummer madness. 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. 56 [Exit Servant.] Good Where's my Oli. I'll come to him. 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. 60 [Exeunt Olivia and Maria. Mal. O, 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 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, everything 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. 78 Re-enter MARIA, with SIR TOBY and FABIAN. Sir To. Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all the devils of hell be drawn in little, and Legion himself possessed him, yet I'll speak to him. 81 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. 85 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? 89 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! bewitched! Pray God, he be not Fab. Carry his water to the wise woman. 96 Mar. Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning, if I live. My lady would not lose him Sir To. Prithee, 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. 106 Sir To. Why, how now, my bawcock! how dost thou, chuck? Mal. Sir! 109 Sir To. Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, man! 'tis not for gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan: hang him, foul collier! Mar. Get him to say his prayers, good Sir Toby, get him to pray. Mal. My prayers, minx! 115 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. Sir To. Is 't possible? [Exit. 120 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. 126 |