doth sway my life.’ Nay, but first let me see,
let me see, let me see.
FABIAN What dish o’poison has she dressed101 him.
SIR TOBY And with what wing the staniel checks102 at it!
MALVOLIO ‘I may command where I adore.’ Why, she may
command me! I serve her, she is my lady. Why, this is evident to
any formal capacity. There is no obstruction105 in this. And the
end — what should that alphabetical position portend?106 If I
could make that resemble something in me. Softly: M.O.A.I.—
SIR TOBY O, ay, make up that. He is now at a cold scent.108
FABIAN Sowter will cry109 upon’t for all this, though it be as
rank110 as a fox.
MALVOLIO M. — Malvolio. M. — Why, that begins my name!
FABIAN Did not I say he would work it out? The cur112 is
excellent at faults.113
MALVOLIO M. — But then there is no consonancy in the sequel114
that suffers under probation115: ‘A’ should follow but ‘O’ does.
FABIAN And O shall end116, I hope.
SIR TOBY Ay, or I’ll cudgel him, and make him cry O!
MALVOLIO And then I comes behind.
FABIAN Ay, an you had any eye119 behind you, you might see
more detraction120 at your heels than fortunes before you.
MALVOLIO M.O.A.I. This simulation is not as the former.121 And
yet, to crush this a little, it would bow122 to me, for every one of
Reads
these letters are in my name. Soft, here follows prose: ‘If this
fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars124 I am above
thee, but be not afraid of greatness: some are born great,
some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust
upon ’em. Thy Fates open their hands. Let thy blood and spirit127
embrace them. And to inure thyself to what thou art like128 to
be, cast thy humble slough and appear fresh. Be opposite129 with
a kinsman, surly with servants. Let thy tongue tang130
arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of singularity.131
She thus advises thee that sighs for thee. Remember who
commended thy yellow stockings, and wished to see thee ever133
cross-gartered. I say, remember. Go to134, thou art made, if thou
desirest to be so. If not, let me see thee a steward still, the
fellow of servants, and not worthy to touch Fortune’s fingers.
Farewell. She that would alter services137 with thee,
The Fortunate-Unhappy.138’
Daylight and champaign discovers not more. This is open.139 I
will be proud, I will read politic authors, I will baffle140 Sir
Toby, I will wash off gross acquaintance, I will be point-141
device the very man. I do not now fool myself, to let
imagination jade me; for every reason excites143 to this, that
my lady loves me. She did commend my yellow stockings of
late, she did praise my leg being cross-gartered. And in this
she manifests herself to146 my love, and with a kind of
injunction drives me to these habits147 of her liking. I thank
my stars, I am happy. I will be strange, stout148, in yellow
stockings, and cross-gartered, even with the swiftness of
putting on. Jove and my stars be praised! Here is yet a postscript:
Reads
‘Thou canst not choose but know Reads
who I am. If thou entertainest152 my love, let it appear in thy
smiling. Thy smiles become thee well: therefore in my
presence still154 smile, dear my sweet, I prithee.’ Jove, I thank
thee. I will smile. I will do everything that thou wilt have
me.
Exit
Sir Toby, Sir Andrew and Fabian come out of hiding
FABIAN I will not give my part of this sport for a pension of
thousands to be paid from the Sophy.158
SIR TOBY I could marry this wench for this device.159
SIR ANDREW So could I too.
SIR TOBY And ask no other dowry with her but such another
jest.
Enter Maria
SIR ANDREW Nor I neither.
FABIAN Here comes my noble gull-catcher.164
SIR TOBY Wilt thou set thy foot o’my neck?165
SIR ANDREW Or o’mine either?
SIR TOBY Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip167, and become thy
bondslave?168
SIR ANDREW I’faith, or I either?
SIR TOBY Why, thou hast put him in such a dream that when
the image of it leaves him, he must run mad.
MARIA Nay, but say true, does it work upon him?
SIR TOBY Like aqua-vitae173 with a midwife.
MARIA If you will then see the fruits174 of the sport, mark his
first approach before my lady: he will come to her in yellow
stockings, and ’tis a colour she abhors, and cross-gartered, a
fashion she detests. And he will smile upon her, which will
now be so unsuitable to her disposition, being addicted to a
melancholy as she is, that it cannot but turn him into a
notable contempt.180 If you will see it, follow me.
SIR TOBY To the gates of Tartar181, thou most excellent devil
of wit!
SIR ANDREW I’ll make one183 too.
Exeunt
running scene 10 continues
Enter Viola and Clown [Feste, with a tabor]
VIOLA Save thee, friend, and thy music.
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