even to a mortal arbitrement; but nothing of the circumstance more. Vio. 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 To. 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 And. Pox on't, I'll not meddle with him. Sir To. Ay, but he will not now be pacified: Fabian can scarce hold him yonder. Sir And. Plague on't; an I thought he had been valiant, and so cunning in fence, I'd have seen him damned ere I'd have challenged him. Let him let the matter slip, and I'll give him my horse, gray Capilet. Sir To. I'll make the motion: Stand here, make a good show on't; this shall end without the perdition of souls: Marry, Ill 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; I have persuaded him the youth's a devil. Fab. He is as horribly conceited of him; and pants, and looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels. Sir To. 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 off: therefore draw, for the supportance of his vow; he protests, he will not hurt you. Vio. 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. Sir To. 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 And. Pray God, he keep his oath. [Draws. Enter Antonio. Vio. I do assure you 'tis against my will. [Draws. tleman 2 Off. Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit Of count Orsino. Ant. You do mistake me, sir; 1 Off No, sir, no jot; I know your favour well, Though now you have no sea-cap on your head.Take him away; he knows, I know him well. Ant. I must obey.-This comes with seeking you; But there's no remedy; I shall answer it. What will you do? Now my necessity Makes me to ask you for my purse: It grieves me Much more, for what I cannot do for you, Than what befalls myself. You stand amaz'd; But be of comfort. 2 Off. Come, sir, away. Ant. I must entreat of you some of that money Vio. What money, sir? Ant. For the fair kindness you have show'd me here, Ant. O heavens themselves! 2 Off. Come, sir, I pray you, go. I snatch'd one half out of the jaws of death; 1 off. What's that to us? The time goes by; away. [Exeunt 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, That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you! Sir To. Come hither, knight; come hither, Fabian; we'll whisper o'er a couple or two of most sage saws. Vio. He nam'd Sebastian; I my brother know Yet living in my glass; even such, and so, In favour was my brother; and he went Still in this fashion, colour, ornament, For him I imitate: O, if it prove, Tempests are kind, and salt waves fresh in love! [Exit. Seb. Madam, I will. ACT IV. O, say so, and so be! SCENE I.-The Street before Olivia's House. Enter Sebastian and Clown. Clo. 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. 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 curate; do it quickly: I'll call sir Toby the whilst. [Exit Maria. Clo. Well held out, i'faith! No, I do not know Clo. Well, I'll put it on, and I will dissemble you; nor I am not sent to you by my lady, to bid myself in't; and I would I were the first that ever you come speak with her; nor your name is not dissembled in such a gown. I am not fat enough master Cesario; nor this is not my nose neither.to become the function well; nor lean enough to 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 folly! 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; There's money for thee; if you tarry longer, I shall give worse payment. 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 And. Now, sir, have I met you again? there's for you. [Striking Sebastian. Seb. Why, there's for thee, and there, and there: Are all the people mad? [Beating Sir Andrew. Sir To. 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 Clown. Sir To. Come on, sir; hold. [Holding Sebastian. Sir And. 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. Seb. Let go thy hand. Sir To. Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier, put up your iron: you are well fleshed; come on. Seb. I will be free from thee. What wouldst If thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword. Enter Olivia. [Draws. Oli. Hold, Toby; on thy life, I charge thee, hold. Oli. Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch, [sight! [Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian. Seb. What relish is in this? how runs the stream? be thought a good student. but to be said, an honest man, and a good housekeeper, goes as fairly, as to say, a careful man, and a great scholar. The competitors enter. Enter Sir Toby Belch and Maria. Sir To. 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, being master parson, am master parson: For what is that, but that? and is, but is ? Sir To. To him, sir Topas. Clo. What, hoa, I say,-Peace in this prison ! Sir To. The knave counterfeits well; a good knave. Mal. [in an inner chamber.] Who calls there? Clo. Sir Topas, the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio the lunatick. 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 To. 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. Fye, 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 thou, that house is dark? Mal. As hell, sir Topas. Clo. Why, it hath bay-windows, transparent as barricadoes, and the clear stories towards the southnorth 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. Í say, this house is as dark as ignorance, though ignorance were as dark as hell; and I say, there was never man thus abused: I am no more mad than you are; make the trial of it in any constant question. Clo. What is the opinion of Pythagoras, concern. ing wild-fowl? Mal. That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird. Clo. What thinkest thou of his opinion? Mal. I think nobly of the soul, and no way ap prove his opinion. Clo. Fare thee well: Remain thou still in darkness: thou shalt hold the opinion of Pythagoras, ere I will allow of thy wits; and fear to kill a woodcock, lest thou dispossess the soul of thy grandam. Fare thee well. Mal. Sir Topas, sir Topas, Sir To. My most exquisite sir Topas ! Mar. Thou might'st have done this without thy beard, and gown; he sees thee not. Sir To. To him in thine own voice, and bring me word how thou findest him: I would, we were Oli. Nay, come, I pr'ythee: 'Would thou'dst be well rid of this knavery. If he may be conveniently rul'd by me 5 delivered, I would he were; for I am now so far in offence with my niece, that I cannot pursue with any safety this sport to the upshot. Come by and by to my chamber. [Exeunt Sir Toby and Maria. Clo. Hey Robin, jolly Robin, Tell me how thy lady does. Mal. Fool. Clo. My lady is unkind, perdy. Mal. Fool, Clo. Alas, why is she so? Mal. Fool, I say ; Clo. She loves another-Who calls, ha? [Singing. And wrangle with my reason, that persuades me Take, and give back, affairs, and their despatch, Enter Olivia and a Priest. Mal. Good fool, as ever thou wilt deserve well at my hand, help me to a candle, and pen, ink, and paper; as I am a gentleman, I will live to be thank-Now go with me, and with this holy man, ful to thee for't. Oli. Blame not this haste of mine: If you mean well, Clo. Master Malvolio! Clo. Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits? Mal. Fool, there was never man so notoriously abused: I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art. Clo. But as well? then you are mad, indeed, if you be no better in your wits than a fool. Mal. They have here propertied me; keep me in darkness, send ministers to me, asses, and do all they can to face me out of my wits. Clo. Advise you what you say; the minister is here. Malvolio, Malvolio, thy wits the heavens restore! endeavour thyself to sleep, and leave thy vain bibble babble. Mal. Sir Topas, Clo. Maintain no words with him, good fellow.- Clo. Alas, sir, be patient. What say you, sir? I am shent for speaking to you. Mal. Good fool, help me to some light, and some paper; I tell thee, I am as well in my wits as any man in Illyria. Clo. Well-a-day,-that you were, sir? Mal. By this hand, I am: Good fool, some ink, paper, and light, and convey what I will set down to my lady; it shall advantage thee more than ever the bearing of letter did. Clo. I will help you to't. But tell me true, are you not mad indeed? or do you but counterfeit ? Mal. Believe me, I am not; I tell thee true. Clo. Nay, I'll ne'er believe a madman, till I see his brains. I will fetch you light, and paper, and ink. Mal. Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree: I pr'y thee, be gone. Seb. This is the air; that is the glorious sun; Into the chantry by: there, before him, That they may fairly note this act of mine! ACT V. [Exeunt. Clo. Marry, sir, they praise me, and make an ass of me; now my foes tell me plainly I am an ass: so that by my foes, sir, I profit in the knowledge of myself; and by my friends I am abused: so that, conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives make your two affirmatives, why, then the worse for my friends, and the better for my foes. Duke. Why, this is excellent. Clo. By my troth, sir, no; though it please you to be one of my friends. Duke. Thou shalt not be the worse for me: there's gold. Clo. But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I would you could make it another. Duke. O, you give me ill counsel. Clo. Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this once, and let your flesh and blood obey it. Duke. Well, I will be so much a sinner to be a double dealer; there's another. Clo. Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play; and the old saying is, the third pays for all: the triplex, sir, is a good tripping measure; or the bells of St. Bennet, sir, may put you in mind; One, two, three. Duke. You can fool no more money out of me at this throw if you will let your lady know, I am here to speak with her, and bring her along with you, it may awake my bounty further. Clo. Marry, sir, lullaby to your bounty, till I Enter Antonio and Officers. Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmear'd A bawbling vessel was he captain of, For shallow draught, and bulk, unprizable: Duke. Notable pirate! thou salt-water thief! Be pleas'd that I shake off these names you give [fore, Oli. Even what it please my lord, that shall be- Duke. Why should I not, had I the heart to do it, I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love, To spite a raven's heart within a dove. [Going. More than I love these eyes, more than my life, Oli. Ah me, detested! how am I beguil'd! Oli. Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long?— Oli. No, my lord, not I. Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence, Priest. A contract of eternal bond of love, Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings; Duke. Here comes the countess ; now heaven But for thee, fellow, fellow, thy words are madness: [have, Oli. What would my lord, but that he may not Oli. O, do not swear; Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear. Enter Sir Andrew Ague-cheek, with his head broke. Sir And. For the love of God, a surgeon; send one presently to sir Toby. Oli. What's the matter? Sir And. He has broke my head across, and has given sir Toby a bloody coxcomb too: for the love of God, your help: I had rather than forty pound, I were at home. Oli. Who has done this, sir Andrew? Sir And. The count's gentleman, one Cesario: we took him for a coward, but he's the very devil incardinate. Duke. My gentleman, Cesario? Sir And. Od's lifelings, here he is -You brcke N my head for nothing; and that that I did, I was Vio. Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you: Sir And. If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me; I think, you set nothing by a bloody coscomb. Enter Sir Toby Belch, drunk, led by the Clown. Here comes Sir Toby halting, you shall hear more: but if he had not been in drink, he would have tickled you othergates than he did. Duke. How now, gentleman? how is't with you? Sir To. That's all one; he has hurt me, and there's the end on't.-Sot, did'st see Dick surgeon, sot? Clo. O he's drunk, sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyes were set at eight i' the morning. Sir To. Then he's a rogue. After a passy-measure, or a pavin, I hate a drunken rogue. Oli. Away with him: Who hath made this haVock with them? Sir And. I'll help you, sir Toby, because we'll be dressed together. All the occurrence of my fortune since [To Viola. Thou never should'st love woman like to me. Duke. Give me thy hand; Sir To. Will you help? an ass-head, and a cox-And yet, alas, now I remember me, Seb. I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kins- Duke. One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons; A natural perspective, that is, and is not. How have the hours rack'd and tortur'd me, Ant. Sebastian are you? Fear'st thou that, Antonio ? Seb. Do I stand there? I never had a brother: Seb. A spirit I am, indeed: Vio. And died that day when Viola from her birth Seb. O, that record is lively in my soul! A most extracting frenzy of mine own Clo. Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the stave's end, as well as a man in his case may do: he has here writ a letter to you, I should have given it you to-day morning; but as a madman's epistles are no gospels, so it skills not much, when they are delivered. Oli. Open it, and read it. Clo. Look then to be well edified, when the fool delivers the madman :-By the Lord, madam, Oli. How now! art thou mad? Clo. No, madam, I do but read madness: an your ladyship will have it as it ought to be, you must allow vox. Oli. Pr'ythee, read i'thy right wits. Clo. So I do, madonna; but to read his right wits, is to read thus: therefore perpend, my princess, and give ear. Oli. Read it you, sirrah. [To Fabian. Fab. [reads.] By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and the world shall know it: though you have put me into darkness, and given your drunken cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my senses as well as your ladyship. I have your own letter that induced me to the semblance I put on; with the which I doubt not but to do myself much right, or you much shame. Think of me as you please. 1 leave my duty a little unthought of, and speak out of my injury. The madly-used Malvolio. Oli. Did he write this? |