Let there
be gall enough in thy ink, though thou write with a goose-pen43,
no matter. About it.
SIR ANDREW Where shall I find you?
SIR TOBY We’ll call thee at the cubiculo46. Go.
Exit Sir Andrew
FABIAN This is a dear manikin47 to you, Sir Toby.
SIR TOBY I have been dear to him, lad, some two thousand48
strong, or so.
FABIAN We shall have a rare50 letter from him; but you’ll not
deliver’t?
SIR TOBY Never trust me, then. And by all means stir on the
youth to an answer. I think oxen and wainropes cannot hale53
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 th’anatomy.56
FABIAN And his opposite, the youth, bears in his visage57 no
great presage58 of cruelty.
Enter Maria
SIR TOBY Look where the youngest wren59 of mine comes.
MARIA If you desire the spleen60, and will laugh yourselves
into stitches, follow me. Yond gull61 Malvolio is turned
heathen, a very renegado62; for there is no Christian that
means to be saved by believing rightly can ever believe such
impossible passages of grossness.64 He’s in yellow stockings.
SIR TOBY And cross-gartered?
MARIA Most villainously: like a pedant66 that keeps a school
i’th’church. I have dogged67 him like his murderer. He does
obey every point of the letter that I dropped to betray him: he
does smile his face into more lines than is in the new map69
with the augmentation of the Indies. You have not seen such
a thing as ’tis. I can hardly forbear71 hurling things at him. I
know my lady will strike him. If she do, he’ll smile and take’t
for a great favour.
SIR TOBY Come, bring us, bring us where he is.
Exeunt
Act 3 Scene 3
running scene 12
Enter Sebastian and Antonio
SEBASTIAN I would not by my will have troubled you,
But since you make your pleasure of your pains,
I will no further chide3 you.
ANTONIO I could not stay behind you: my desire,
More sharp than filèd5 steel, did spur me forth,
And not all love to see you, though so much6
As might have drawn one to a longer voyage,
But jealousy8 what might befall your travel,
Being skill-less in these parts, which to a stranger9,
Unguided and unfriended, often prove
Rough and unhospitable. My willing love,
The rather12 by these arguments of fear,
Set forth in your pursuit.
SEBASTIAN My kind Antonio,
I can no other answer make but thanks,
And thanks, and ever oft16 good turns
Are shuffled off with such uncurrent17 pay.
But were my worth, as is my conscience, firm18,
You should find better dealing.19 What’s to do?
Shall we go see the relics20 of this town?
ANTONIO Tomorrow, sir. Best first go see your lodging.
SEBASTIAN I am not weary, and ’tis long to night.
I pray you let us satisfy our eyes
With the memorials and the things of fame
That do renown25 this city.
ANTONIO Would you’d pardon me.
I do not without danger walk these streets.
Once in a sea-fight gainst the count his galleys28
I did some service, of such note indeed,
That were I ta’en here it would scarce be answered.30
SEBASTIAN Belike31 you slew great number of his people.
ANTONIO Th’offence is not of such a bloody nature,
Albeit33 the quality of the time and quarrel
Might well have given us bloody argument.34
It might have since been answered35 in repaying
What we took from them, which for traffic’s36 sake,
Most of our city did. Only myself stood out,
For which, if I be lapsèd38 in this place,
I shall pay dear.
SEBASTIAN Do not then walk too open.40
ANTONIO It doth not fit41 me. Hold, sir, here’s my purse.
Gives his purse
In the south suburbs, at the Elephant42,
Is best to lodge. I will bespeak our diet43,
Whiles you beguile44 the time and feed your knowledge
With viewing of the town. There shall you have45 me.
SEBASTIAN Why I your purse?
ANTONIO Haply your eye shall light upon some toy47
You have desire to purchase, and your store48,
I think, is not for idle markets49, sir.
SEBASTIAN I’ll be your purse-bearer and leave you
For an hour.
ANTONIO To th’Elephant.
SEBASTIAN I do remember.
Exeunt
Act 3 Scene 4
running scene 13
Enter Olivia and Maria
Aside
OLIVIA I have sent after him1: he says he’ll come.
How shall I feast him? What bestow of2 him?
For youth is bought more oft than begged or borrowed.
I speak too loud.—
Where’s Malvolio? He is sad and civil5,
And suits well for a servant with my fortunes.
Where is Malvolio?
MARIA He’s coming, madam, but in very strange manner.
He is sure possessed9, madam.
OLIVIA 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’s wits.
Maria goes to call Malvolio
OLIVIA Go call him hither.— I am as mad as he,
If sad and merry madness equal be.
Enter Malvolio [cross-gartered and in yellow stockings]
How now, Malvolio?
MALVOLIO Sweet lady, ho, ho.
OLIVIA Smilest thou? I sent for thee upon a sad occasion.
MALVOLIO Sad19, 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’.22
OLIVIA Why, how dost thou, man? What is the matter with
thee?
MALVOLIO Not black in my mind, though yellow in my legs. It25
did come to his26 hands, and commands shall be executed. I
think we do know the sweet Roman hand.27
OLIVIA Wilt thou go to bed28, Malvolio?
MALVOLIO To bed? Ay, sweetheart, and I’ll come to thee.
OLIVIA God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so and kiss30
thy hand so oft?
MARIA How do you, Malvolio?
MALVOLIO At your request! Yes, nightingales answer daws.33
MARIA Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness
before my lady?
MALVOLIO ‘Be not afraid of greatness.’ ’Twas well writ.
OLIVIA What meanest thou by that, Malvolio?
MALVOLIO ‘Some are born great’—
OLIVIA Ha?
MALVOLIO ‘Some achieve greatness’—
OLIVIA What say’st thou?
MALVOLIO ‘And some have greatness thrust upon them.’
OLIVIA Heaven restore thee!
MALVOLIO ‘Remember who commended thy yellow stockings’—
OLIVIA Thy yellow stockings?
MALVOLIO ‘And wished to see thee cross-gartered.’
OLIVIA Cross-gartered?
MALVOLIO ‘Go to, thou art made, if thou desirest to be so’—
OLIVIA Am I made?
MALVOLIO ‘If not, let me see thee a servant still.’
OLIVIA Why, this is very midsummer51 madness.
Enter Servant
SERVANT Madam, the young gentleman of the count Orsino’s
is returned. I could hardly entreat him back. He attends53 your
ladyship’s pleasure.
OLIVIA 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 have him miscarry58 for the half of my dowry.
Exeunt [Olivia and Maria]
MALVOLIO O, ho! Do you come near59 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 consequently65
sets down the manner how: as, a sad face, a reverend66
carriage, a slow tongue, in the habit of some sir of note67, and
so forth. I have limed68 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 degree70, but
fellow. Why, everything adheres together, that no dram71 of a
scruple, no scruple of a scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous72
or unsafe73 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.
Enter Toby, Fabian and Maria
SIR TOBY Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all the
devils of hell be drawn in little, and Legion78 himself possessed
him, yet I’ll speak to him.
FABIAN Here he is, here he is.
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