Oli. Yet come again: for thou, perhaps, may'st move Sir T. Did she see thee the while, old boy? tell me that. Sir A. As plain as I see you now. Fab. This was a great argument of love in her toward you. Sir A. 'Slight! will you make an ass o' me? Enter Maria. Sir T. Look, where the youngest wren of nine comes. Mar. If you desire the spleen, and will laugh your selves into stitches, follow me: yon' 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 T. And cross-gartered? Mar. Most villanously; like a pedant that keeps a school i' the church.-I have dogged him, like his mur derer: 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 augmentation of the Indies: you have not seen such a thing as 'tis; I can hardly forbear hurling things at Fab. I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of him. I know, my lady will strike him; if she do, he'll judgement and reason. smile, and take't for a great favour. Sir T. And they have been grand jury-men, 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 should then have accosted her; and with some excellent jests, 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 you do redeem it by some laudable attempt, either of valour, or policy. Sir A. 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 T. 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 niece 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 A. Will either of you bear me a challenge to him? Sir T. 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 license 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 A. Where shall I find you? Sir T. We'll call thee at the cubiculo: Go. [Exit Sir Andrew. Fab. This is a dear manikin to you, sir Toby. Sir T. 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 T. Never trust me then; and by all means stir on the youth to an answer. I think, oxen and wainropes 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. Sir T. Come, bring us, bring us where he is. [Exe SCENE III-A Street. Enter Antonio and Sebas, tian. Seb. I would not, by my will, have troubled you; Ant. I could not stay behind you; my desire, Seb. My kind Antonio, I can no other answer make, but, thanks, Ant. To-morrow, sir; best, first, go see your lodging. 'Would, you'd pardon me ; Seb. Do not then walk too open. Is best to lodge: I will bespeak our diet, Ant. Haply, your eye shall light upon some toy I do remember. [Exeunt. 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 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 ;- Mar. 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. 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, sweet-heart; and I'll come to thee. Oh. 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. sino's is returned; I could hardly entreat him back; he attends your ladyship's pleasure. Oli. I'll come to him.-[Exit Serv.] 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. [Exeunt Oli. 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 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 incredu lous 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 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'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 T. 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, and 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 T. 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 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! 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 godli ness. Mal. Go, hang yourselves all! you are idle shallow things: I am not of your element; you shall know more hereafter. [Exit. Sir T. Is't possible? Fab. If this were play'd 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. Mar. Nay, pursue him now; lest the device take air, and taint. 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; 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 mad-men. 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 saucy? Sir A. Ay, is it, I warrant him: do but read. Sir T. Give 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't. Fab. A good note: that keeps you from the blow of the law. Sir T. 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 T. I will way-lay thee going home; where if it be thy chance to kill me,—— Fab. Good. Sir T. Thou killest me like a rogue and a villain. Fab. Still you keep o' the windy side of the law: Good. 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-check. Sir T. 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. Sir T. Go, sir Andrew; scout me for him at the corner of the orchard, like a bum-bailiff: so soon as ever thou seest him, draw; and, as thou drawest, swear horrible for it comes to pass oft, that a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent sharply twanged off, gives manhood more approbation than ever proof itself would have earned him. Away. Sir A. Nay, let me alone, for swearing. [Exit. Sir T. Now will I not deliver his letter: for the behaviour of the young gentleman gives him out to be of good capacity and breeding; his employment between his lord and my niece confirms no less; therefore this letter, being so excellently ignorant, will breed no terror in the youth, he will find it comes from a clodpole. But, sir, I will deliver his challenge by word of mouth: set upon Ague-check n notable report of valour; and drive the gentleman, (as, I know, his youth will aptly receive it,) into a most hideous opinion of his rage, skill, fury, and impetuosity. This will so fright them both, that they will kill one another by the look, like cockatrices. Enter Olivia and Viola. Fab. Here he comes with your niece: give them way, till he take leave, and presently after him. Sir T. I will meditate the while upon some horrid message for a challenge. [Exeunt Sir Toby, Fabian, and Maria. Oli. I have said too much unto a heart of stone, And laid mine honour too unchary out : There's something in me, that reproves my fault; But such a headstrong potent fault it is, That it but mocks reproof. Vio. With the same "haviour that your passion bears, Go on my master's griefs. 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. Vio. Nothing but this your true love for my master. Vio. 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 T. Gentleman, God save thee, Sir T. That defence thou hast, betake thee to't: of what nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I 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 T. You'll find it otherwise, I assure you: there fore, if you hold your life at any price, betake you to your guard; for your opposite hath in him what youth, strength, skill, and wrath, can furnish man withal. Vio. I pray you, sir, what is he! Sir T. 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 satis action 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 purpose ly on others, to taste their valour: belike, this is a man of that quirk. Sir T. 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, un less 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 negli gence, nothing of my purpose. Sir T. I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by this gentleman till my return. [Exit Sir Toby. 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. Via. 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 T. 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 A. Pox on't, I'll not meddle with him. Sir T. Ay, but he will not now be pacified: Fabian can scarce hold him yonder. Sir A. Plague on't; an I thought he had been valtant, and so cunning in fence, I'd have seen him damned ere I'd have challenged him. Let him let the mat. ter slip, and I'll give him my horse, grey Capilet. Sir T. I'll make the motion: Stand here, make a good show on't; this shall end without the perdition of touls: Marry, I'll ride your horse as well as I ride you. [Aside. Re-enter Fabian and Viola. I have his horse, [To Fab.] to take up the quarrel; Fab. He is as horribly conceited of him; and pants, and looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels. Sir T. There's no remedy, sir; he will fight with you for his oath sake. Marry, he hath 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. Vis. 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. 10ff. This is the man; do thy office. 2 Off. Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit Of count Orsino. Ant. You do mistake me, sir. 10ff. No, sir, no jot; I know your favour well, Ant. I must obey.-This comes with seeking you; Ant. O heavens themselves! I snatch'd one half out of the jaws of death; 1 Off. What's that to us? The time goes by; away. Sir T. 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 A. Pray God, he keep his oath! Enter Antonio. Ant. Lead me on. [Exe. Officers with Antonio. Vio. Methinks, his words do from such passion fly, That he believes himself; so do not I. Prove true, imagination, O, prove true. Sir T. Come hither, knight;-Come hither, Fabian; [Exit. Sir T. A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward than a bare: his dishonesty appears, in leaving his friend here in necessity, and denying him; and for his cowardship. ask Fabian. 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 fol ly! 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 A. Now, sir, have I met you again? there's for [Striking Seb. you. Seb. Why, there's for thee, and there, and there: Are all the people mad? [Beating Sir And. Sir T. 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 Clo. Sir T. Come on, sir; hold. [Holding Seb. Sir A. 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. come on. -Be not offended, dear Cesario:- [Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian. Against thy peace. Go with me to my house; He started one poor heart of mine in thee. Seb. What relish is in this? how runs the stream? O, say so, and so be! [Exeunt. SCENE II-A Room in Olivia's House. Enter Maria and Clown. Mar. Nay, I pr'ythee, put on this gown, and this beard; make him believe, thou art sir Topas the eurate; do it quickly: I'll call sir Toby the whilst. [Exit Maria. 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 house-keeper, goes as fairly, as to say, a careful man, and a great scholar. The competitors enter. Enter Sir Toby Belch and Maria. Sir T. Jove bless thee, master parson. Clo. Bonos dies, sir Toby: for as the old hermit of Prague, that never saw pen and ink, very wittily said to a niece of king Gorboduc, That, that is, is: so I, be ing master parson, am master parson: For what is that, but that? and is, but is? Sir T. To him, sir Topas. Clo. What, hoa, I say,-Peace in this prison! Sir T. The knave counterfeits well; a good knave. Mal. [in an inner chamber.] Who calls there? Clo. Sir Topas, the curate, who comes to visit Mal volio the lunatic. 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 T. 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! I 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 Seb. I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou thou, that house is dark? Mal. As hell, sir Topas. Clo. Why, it hath bay-windows transparent as bar ricadoes, 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 |