He speaks nothing but
madman. Fie98 on him!—
[Exit Maria]
Go you, Malvolio; if it be a suit from the count, I am sick, or
not at home. What you will100, to dismiss it.—
Exit Malvolio
Now you see, sir, how your fooling grows old101, and people
dislike it.
FESTE Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy eldest
son should be a fool, whose skull Jove104 cram with brains,
for — here he comes —
Enter Sir Toby
one of thy kin has a most weak pia mater.106
To Sir Toby
OLIVIA By mine honour, half drunk.—
What is he at the gate, cousin?
SIR TOBY A gentleman.
OLIVIA A gentleman? What gentleman?
Belches/To Feste
SIR TOBY ’Tis a gentleman here—
a plague o’these pickle herring!— How now, sot?112
FESTE Good Sir Toby!
OLIVIA Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by this
lethargy?115
SIR TOBY Lechery? I defy lechery. There’s one116 at the gate.
OLIVIA Ay, marry, what is he?
SIR TOBY Let him be the devil, an he will, I care not. Give me
faith, say I. Well, it’s all one.119
Exit
OLIVIA What’s a drunken man like, fool?
FESTE Like a drowned man, a fool and a madman: one121
draught above heat makes him a fool, the second mads him,
and a third drowns123 him.
OLIVIA Go thou and seek the crowner, and let him sit o’my124
coz, for he’s in the third degree of drink: he’s drowned. Go
look after him.
FESTE He is but mad yet, madonna, and the fool shall look
to the madman.
[Exit]
Enter Malvolio
MALVOLIO Madam, yond129 young fellow swears he will speak
with you. I told him you were sick, he takes on him to130
understand so much, and therefore comes to speak with
you. I told him you were asleep — he seems to have a
foreknowledge of that too — and therefore comes to speak
with you. What is to be said to him, lady? He’s fortified
against any denial.
OLIVIA Tell him he shall not speak with me.
MALVOLIO He’s been told so, and he says he’ll stand at your
door like a sheriff’s post, and be the supporter to a bench138, but
he’ll speak with you.
OLIVIA What kind o’man is he?
MALVOLIO Why, of mankind.141
OLIVIA What manner of man?
MALVOLIO Of very ill manner. He’ll speak with you, will you143
or no.
OLIVIA Of what personage145 and years is he?
MALVOLIO Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough
for a boy. As a squash is before ’tis a peascod, or a codling147
when ’tis almost an apple: ’tis with him in standing water148,
between boy and man. He is very well-favoured149 and he
speaks very shrewishly.150 One would think his mother’s milk
were scarce out of him.
OLIVIA Let him approach. Call in my gentlewoman.
MALVOLIO Gentlewoman, my lady calls.
Exit
Enter Maria
OLIVIA Give me my veil. Come, throw it o’er my face. We’ll once more hear Orsino’s embassy.155
She is veiled
Enter Viola [and Attendants]
VIOLA The honourable lady of the house, which is she?
OLIVIA Speak to me, I shall answer for her. Your will?
VIOLA Most radiant, exquisite and unmatchable beauty —
I pray you tell me if this be the lady of the house, for I never
saw her. I would be loath to cast away160 my speech, for besides
that it is excellently well penned161, I have taken great pains to
con it. Good beauties, let me sustain162 no scorn; I am very
comptible, even to the least sinister163 usage.
OLIVIA Whence came you, sir?
VIOLA I can say little more than I have studied165, and that
question’s out of my part. Good gentle one, give me modest166
assurance, if you be the lady of the house, that I may
proceed in my speech.
OLIVIA Are you a comedian?169
VIOLA No, my profound heart.170 And yet, by the very fangs
of malice, I swear I am not that I play.171 Are you the lady of the
house?
OLIVIA If I do not usurp173 myself, I am.
VIOLA Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp yourself,
for what is yours to bestow is not yours to reserve.175 But this is
from my commission.176 I will on with my speech in your
praise, and then show you the heart of my message.
OLIVIA Come to what is important in’t. I forgive178 you the
praise.
VIOLA Alas, I took great pains to study it, and ’tis poetical.
OLIVIA It is the more like to be feigned. I pray you keep it in.181
I heard you were saucy182 at my gates, and allowed your
approach rather to wonder183 at you than to hear you. If you be
not mad, be gone. If you have reason, be brief. ’Tis not that184
time of moon with me to make one in so skipping185 a dialogue.
MARIA Will you hoist sail186, sir? Here lies your way.
VIOLA No, good swabber, I am to hull187 here a little longer.
Some mollification for your giant188, sweet lady; tell me your
mind, I am a messenger.
OLIVIA Sure, you have some hideous matter to deliver,
when the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak your office.191
VIOLA It alone concerns your ear. I bring no overture192 of
war, no taxation of homage; I hold the olive193 in my hand. My
words are as full of peace as matter.194
OLIVIA Yet you began rudely.195 What are you? What would
you?
VIOLA The rudeness that hath appeared in me have I
learned from my entertainment.198 What I am, and what I
would, are as secret as maidenhead: to your ears, divinity199: to
any other’s, profanation.200
OLIVIA Give us the place alone. We will hear this divinity.
[Exeunt Maria and Attendants]
Now, sir, what is your text?202
VIOLA Most sweet lady—
OLIVIA A comfortable204 doctrine, and much may be said of it.
Where lies your text?
VIOLA In Orsino’s bosom.206
OLIVIA In his bosom? In what chapter207 of his bosom?
VIOLA To answer by the method208, in the first of his heart.
OLIVIA O, I have read it: it is heresy. Have you no more to
say?
VIOLA Good madam, let me see your face.
OLIVIA Have you any commission from your lord to
negotiate with my face? You are now out of213 your text. But we will draw the curtain214 and show you the picture.
Unveils
Look you, sir, such a one I was this present.215 Is’t not well
done?
VIOLA Excellently done, if God did all.217
OLIVIA ’Tis in grain218, sir, ’twill endure wind and weather.
VIOLA ’Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white219
Nature’s own sweet and cunning220 hand laid on.
Lady, you are the cruell’st she221 alive,
If you will lead these graces222 to the grave
And leave the world no copy.223
OLIVIA O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted. I will give out
divers schedules of my beauty. It shall be inventoried225, and
every particle and utensil226 labelled to my will: as, item, two
lips, indifferent227 red: item, two grey eyes, with lids to them:
item, one neck, one chin and so forth. Were you sent hither
to praise229 me?
VIOLA I see you what you are, you are too proud.
But if231 you were the devil, you are fair.
My lord and master loves you. O, such love
Could be but recompensed, though233 you were crowned
The nonpareil234 of beauty!
OLIVIA How does he love me?
VIOLA With adorations, fertile236 tears,
With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.
OLIVIA Your lord does know my mind: I cannot love him.
Yet I suppose239 him virtuous, know him noble,
Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth;
In voices well divulged, free241, learned and valiant,
And in dimension and the shape of nature242
A gracious243 person; but yet I cannot love him.
He might have took his answer long ago.
VIOLA If I did love you in my master’s flame245,
With such a suff’ring, such a deadly246 life,
In your denial I would find no sense,
I would not understand it.
OLIVIA Why, what would you?
VIOLA Make me a willow cabin250 at your gate,
And call upon my soul251 within the house,
Write loyal cantons of contemnèd252 love
And sing them loud even in the dead of night,
Hallow your name to the reverberate254 hills
And make the babbling gossip255 of the air
Cry out ‘Olivia!’ O, you should not rest
Between the elements of air and earth,
But you should pity me!
OLIVIA You might do much. What is your parentage?
VIOLA Above my fortunes, yet my state is well260:
I am a gentleman.
OLIVIA Get you to your lord.
I cannot love him.
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