SCENE IV.

Olivia's Houfe.

Enter Olivia and Maria.

Oli. I have fent after him: "He fays, he'll come; How fhall I feaft him? what bestow on him?

For youth is bought more oft, than begg'd, or borrow'd. I fpeak too loud.

Where is Malvolio?-he is fad and civil,

And fuits well for a fervant with my fortunes;

Where is Malvolio?

Mar. He's coming, madam; but in very ftrange manner.

He is fure, poffest, madam.

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, fure, the man is tainted in his wits.

Oli. Go call him hither.--I'm as mad as he.

Enter Malvolio.

If fad and merry madness equal be.

How now, Malvolio?

Mal. Sweet lady,, ho, ho.

[Smiles fantastically.

Oli. Smil'ft thou?

I fent for thee upon a fad occafion.

Mal. Sad, lady? I could be fad: This does make some obstruction in the blood, this crofs-gartering; But what of that? if it please the eye of one, it is with me as the very true fonnet is: Pleafe one, and please all.

P He fays,]-Suppose he says.

Oli. Why, how doft 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 fhall 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! Why doft thou smile so, and kifs thy hand fo oft?

Mar. How do you, Malvolio?

Mal. At your requeft? Yes; Nightingales anfwer 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 atchieve greatness,

Oli. What fay'st thou?

Mal. And fome have greatness thrust upon them.

Oli. Heaven restore thee!

Mal. Remember, who commended thy yellow stockings ;

Oli. Thy yellow ftockings?

Mal. And wifh'd to fee thee cross-garter'd.

O4. Crofs-garter'd?

Mal. Go to: thou art made, if thou defireft to be fo ;— Oli. Am I made?

Mal. If not, let me fee thee a fervant ftill.

g

Oli. Why, this is a very midfummer madness.

Enter Servant.

Serv. Madam, the young gentleman of the count Orfino's is return'd; I could hardly entreat him back: he attends your ladyship's pleasure.

a very midfummer]-the height of.

Oli.

Oli. I'll come to him. Good Maria, let this fellow be look'd to. Where's my coufin Toby? let some of my people have a special care of him; I would not have him mifcarry for the half of my dowry. [Exit.

г

Mal. Oh, ho do you come near me now? no worse man than fir Toby to look to me? This concurs directly with the letter: fhe fends him on purpose, that I may appear stubborn to him; for fhe incites me to that in the letter. Caft thy bumble flough, fays fhe ;-be oppofite with a kinfman,-furly with fervants,-let thy tongue tang with arguments of ftate,-put thyself into the trick of fingularity ;— and, confequently, fets down the manner how; as, a sad face, a reverend carriage, a flow tongue, in the habit of fome fir of note, and fo forth. I have lim'd her: but it is Jove's doing, and Jove make me thankful! And, when she went away now, Let this fellow be look'd to: 'Fellow! not Malvolio, nor after my degree, but fellow. Why, every thing adheres together; that no dram of a fcruple, no fcruple of a fcruple, no obftacle, no incredulous or unfafe circumftance,What can be faid? Nothing, that can be, can come between me and the full profpect of my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked.

Re-enter Maria, with Sir Toby and Fabian.

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

Fab. Here he is, here he is: How is't with you, fir? how is't with you, man?

Mal. Go off; I difcard you; let me enjoy my private; go off

oppofite with]-adverse, hostile; thwart him conftantly. Slim'd-caught. Fellow!-equal, companion.

Mar.

Mar. Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did not I tell you?-fir Toby, my lady prays you to have a care of him.

Mal. Ah, ha! does the fo?

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: confider, he's an enemy to mankind.

Mal. Do you know what you fay?

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

Fab. Carry his water to the wife woman.

Mar. Marry, and it fhall be done to-morrow morning, if I live. My lady would not lofe him for more than I'll fay.

Mal. How now, mistress?

Mar. O lord!

Sir To. Pr'ythee, hold thy peace, this is not the way: Do you not fee, you move him? let me alone with him. Fab. No way but gentleness; gently, gently: the fiend is rough, and will not be roughly us'd.

Sir To. Why, how now, "my bawcock? how doft thou, chuck?

Mal. Sir?

W

Sir To. Ay, biddy, come with me. What man! 'tis not for gravity to play at cherry-pit with fatan: Hang him, foul collier!

Mar. Get him to fay his prayers; good fir Toby, get him to pray.

W

Mal. My prayers, minx?

Mar. No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godliness. Mal. Go, hang yourselves all! you are idle fhallow

my bawcock-my brave fellow.

cherry-pit-pitching cherry ftones.

VOL. II.

M m

things:

things: I am not of hereafter.

your

element

; you fhall know more

[Exit.

Sir To. Is't poffible?

Fab. If this were play'd 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, purfue him now; left 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, prompt us to have mercy on him at which time, we will bring the device to the bar, and But fee, but fee.

:

X

crown thee for a finder of madmen:

Enter Sir Andrew.

Fab. More matter for a May morning.

Sir And. Here's the challenge, read it, I warrant

Sir And. Ay, is't? I warrant him: do but read.
Sir To. Give me.

[Sir Toby reads.

Youth, whatfover thou art, thou art but a fcurvy fellow. Fab. Good, and valiant.

Sir To. Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind, why I do call thee fo, for I will fhew thee no reason for't.

Fab. A good note: that keeps you from the blow of the law.

x

crown

thee for a finder of madmen :]—the coroner, may have been so called from finding felfmurder so often lunacy.

y for a May morning.]-of merriment.

Sir To.