ACT THE FOURTH. SCENE I. OLIVIA'S House. Enter OLIVIA and MARIA. Oliv. 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 borrow'd. I speak too loud. · Where is Malvolio? he is sad and civil, And suits well for a servant with my fortunes. Maria. He's coming, madam; but in very strange manner. He is sure possess'd, madam! Oliv. Why, what's the matter? does he rave? Maria. 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. Oliv. Go, call him hither; I'm as mad as he, Enter MALVOLIO. If sad and merry madness equal be. How now, Malvolio? Mal. Sweet lady, ha! ha! Oliv. Smil'st thou ? I sent for thee [Smiles fantastically. u pon a sad occasion. Mal. Sad, lady? I could be sad: This does make some obstruction in the blood, this cross-gartering— but what of it? if it please the eye of one, it is with me as the very true sonnet is--Please one, and please all. Oliv. 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 that sweet Roman hand. Oliv. Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio? Mal. To bed? ay, sweet heart; and I'll come to thee. Oliv. God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so, and kiss thy hand so oft? Maria. How do you, Malvolio? Mal. At your request? Yes; Nightingales answer daws. Maria. Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady? Mal. Be not afraid of greatness-'twas well writ. Oliv. Ha? Mal. Some achieve greatness—- Mal. And some have greatness thrust upon them- Mal. Remember, who commended thy yellow stock- ings Oliv. Thy yellow stockings? Mal. And wish'd to see thee cross-garter'd Oliv. Cross-garter'd ? Mal. Go to; thou art made, if thou desirest to be. Oliv. Am I made? Mal. If not, let me see thee a servant still. F Oliv. Why, this is a very midsummer madness! Enter SERVANT. Serv. Madam, the young gentleman of the Duke Orsino's is returned; I could hardly entreat him back he attends your ladyship's pleasure. Oliv. 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 let him miscarry, for half of my dowry. [Exit, with MARIA, Mal. Oh, oh! 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 purs pose 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! Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, FABIAN, and MARIA. Sir T. 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 it with you, sir? how is it with you, man? Mal. Go off; I discard you; let me enjoy my private; go off. Maria. 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 T. Go to, go to; peace, peace, we must deal gently with him; let me alone. How do you, Mai wolio? how is't with you? What, man! defy the devil: consider, he's an enemy to mankind. Mal. Do you know what you say? Maria. La, you! if 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. Maria. Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning, if I live: My lady would not lose him, for more than I'll say. Sir T. Prythee, hold thy peace'; that 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 T. Why, how now, my bawcock? how dost thou, chuck? Mal. Sir! Sir T. Ay, biddy, come with me. What, man! 'tis not for gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan.Hang him, foul collier!! Maria, Get him to say his prayers, good Sir Toby, get him to pray. Mal. My prayers, minx! Maria. 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 Sin T: Is't possible? [Exits Fab. If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn-it as an improbable fiction. Sir T. His very genius hath taken the infection of the device, man. Maria. Nay, pursue him now, air, and taint. lest the device take Fab. Why, we shall make him mad, indeed! Sir T. Come, we'll have him in a dark room, and bound. My niece is already in the belief that he is mad-but see, but see! Enter SIR ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK. Fab. More matter for a May morning! Sir A. Here's the challenge, read it: I warrant, there's vinegar and pepper in't! Fab. Is't so sawcy? Sir A. Ay, is't, I warrant him! do but read. Sir T. Give it me. [Reads.] Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art but a scurvy fellow. Fab. Good and valiant! Sir T. Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind why I do call thee so; for I will show thee no reason for'tFab. A good note: That keeps you from the blow of the law. Sir T. Thou com'st 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 T. I will way-lay thee, going home, where, if it be thy chance to kill me Fab. Good! Sir T. Thou kill'st me, like a rogue and a villain.Fab. Still you keep o' the windy side of the lawgood! Sir T. 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. If this letter move him not, his legs cannot: I'll give't him. Maria. You may have very fit occasion for't: he is now in some commerce with my lady, and will, byand-by, depart. Sir T. Go, Sir Andrew; scout me for him, at the |