And, with a green and yellow melancholy, Duke. But died thy sister of her love, my boy? Vio. I am all the daughters of my father's house, And all the brothers too;—and yet I know not.· Sir, shall I to this lady? Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK, and FABIAN. Sir Toby. Come thy ways, Signior Fabian. Fab. Nay, I'll come; if I lose a scruple of this sport, let me be boiled to death with melancholy. Sir Toby. Would thou not be glad to have the niggardly rascally sheep-biter come by some notable shame? Fab. I would exult, man: you know he brought me out of favor with my lady, about a bear-baiting here. Sir Toby. To anger him, we 'll have the bear again; and we will fool him black and blue; Shall we not, Sir Andrew? Enter MALVOLIO. Maria Mal. 'Tis but fortune; all is fortune. once told me she did affect me; and I have heard herself come thus near, that, should she fancy, it should be one of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a more exalted respect than any one else that follows her. What should I think on 't? Sir Toby. Here's an overweening rogue! Fab. O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him; how he jets under his advanced plumes! Sir And. 'Slight, I could so beat the rogue! Sir Toby. Peace, I say. Mal. To be Count Malvolio ; Sir Toby. Ah, rogue? Sir And. Pistol him, pistol him. Sir Toby. Peace, peace! Mal. There is example for 't; the lady of the strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe. Sir And. Fie on him, Jezebel! Fab. O, peace! now he's deeply in; look how imagination blows him. Mal. Having been three months married to her, sitting in my state, Sir Toby. O, for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye! Mal. Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet gown; having come from a daybed, where I left Olivia sleeping. Sir Toby. Fire and brimstone! Mal. And then to have the humor of state and Sir And. An we do not, it is pity of our lives. after a demure travel of regard,- telling them I Enter MARIA. Sir Toby. Here comes the little villain : How now, my nettle of India? Mar. Get ye all three into the box-tree: Malvolio's coming down this walk; he has been yonder i' the sun, practicing behavior to his own shadow, this half-hour: observe him, for the love of mockery; for I know this letter will make a contemplative idiot of him. Close, in the name of jesting! [The men hide themselves.] Lie thou there [throws down a letter]; for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling. know my place, as I would they should do theirs, -to ask for my kinsman Toby: Sir Toby. Bolts and shackles ! Mal. Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for him: I frown the while; and perchance wind up my watch, or play with some rich jewel. Toby approaches; court'sies there to me: Sir Toby. Shall this fellow live? Fab. Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace. Mal. I extend my hand to him thus, quenching [Exit MARIA. my familiar smile with an austere regard of control. Sir Toby. And does not Toby take you a blow o' the lips then? Mal. Saying, "Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast me on your niece, give me this prerogative of speech:-" Sir Toby. What, what? Mal. "You must amend your drunkenness." Fab. Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot. Fab. A fustian riddle! Sir Toby. Excellent wench, say I. Mal. "M, O, A, I, doth sway my life."- Nay, - let me see. but first, let me see - let me see Fab. What a dish of poison hath she dressed him! Sir Toby. And with what wing the stannyel checks at it? Mal. "I may command where I adore." Why, she may command me: I serve her, she is my lady. Mal. "Besides, you waste the treasure of your Why, this is evident to any formal capacity. There time with a foolish knight;" Sir And. That 's me, I warrant you. Mal. "One Sir Andrew." is no obstruction in this:- And the end - What should that alphabetical position portend? if I could make that resemble something in me-Softly!I." Sir And. I knew 't was I, for many do call me "M, O, A, fool. Mal. What employment have we here? [Taking up the letter. Fab. Now is the woodcock near the gin. Sir Toby. O, peace! and the spirit of humors. intimate reading aloud to him! Mal. By my life, this is my lady's hand: these be her very C's, her U's, and her T's; and thus makes she her great P's. It is, in contempt of question, her hand. Sir Toby. O, ay! make up that: — - he is now at a cold scent. Fab. Sowter will cry upon 't for all this, though it be as rank as a fox. Mal. "M"-Malvolio; -"M"- why that begins my name. Fab. Did not I say he would work it out? the cur is excellent at faults. Mal. "M"- But then there is no consonancy in the sequel; that suffers under probation: "A" Sir And. Her C's, her U's, and her T's: should follow, but "O" does. Why that? Mal. [Reads.] "To the unknown beloved, this, and my good wishes: your leave, wax.— Soft! Fab. And "O" shall end, I hope. Sir Toby. Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make "O." Mal. And then "I" comes behind. her very phrases!- By him cry and the impressure her Lucrece, with which she uses to seal: 't is my lady. To whom should this be? Fab. This wins him, liver and all. Fab. Ay, an you had an eye behind you, you might see more detraction at your heels than fortunes before you. Mal. "M, O, A, I;"-This simulation is not as the former:—and yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of these letters are in my name. Soft; here follows prose.— "If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I am above thee; but be not afraid of greatness: Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them. Thy fates open their hands; let thy blood and spirit embrace them. And, to inure thyself to what thou art like to be, cast thy humble slough, and appear fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants: let thy tongue tang arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of singularity: She thus advises thee, that sighs for thee. Remember who commended thy yellow stockings, and wished to see thee ever cross-gartered; I say, remember. Go to; thou art made, "THE FORTUNATE-UNHAPPY." Daylight and champian discovers not more: this is open. I will be proud, I will read politic authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off gross acquaintance, I will be point-de-vice, the very man. I do not now fool myself, to let imagination jade me; for every reason excites 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 to my love, and with a kind of injunction drives me to these habits of her liking. I thank my stars, I am happy. I will be strange, stout, in yellow stockings, and cross-gartered, even with the swiftness of putting on. Jove and my stars be praised! Here is yet a postscript. "Thou canst not choose but know who I am. If thou entertainest my love, let it appear in thy smiling; thy smiles become thee well: therefore in my presence still smile, dear my sweet, I pr'y thee." Jove, I thank thee.-I will smile; I will do every thing that thou wilt have me. [Exit. Fab. I will not give my part of this sport for a pension of thousands to be paid from the Sophi. Sir Toby. I could marry this wench for this device. Sir And. So could I too. Sir Toby. And ask no other dowry with her, but such another jest. Sir And. Nor I neither. Enter MARIA. Sir Toby. Like aqua-vitæ with a midwife. Mar. If you will, then, see the fruits of the sport, mark his first approach before my lady: he will come to her in yellow stockings, and 't is a color 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: if you will see it, follow me. Sir Toby. To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit! Sir And. I'll make one too. [Exeunt. ACT III. SCENE I. -OLIVIA'S Garden. Enter VIOLA, and Clown with a tabor. Vio. Save thee, friend, and thy music: Dost thou live by thy tabor? Clo. No, sir, I live by the church. Clo. No such matter, sir; I do-live by the church for I do live at my house, and my house doth stand by the church. Vio. So thou mayst say, the king lies by a beggar, if a beggar dwell near him; or, the church stands by thy tabor, if thy tabor stand by the church. Clo. You have said, sir. To see this age!-A sentence is but a cheveril glove to a good wit; how quickly the wrong side may be turned outward! Vio. Nay, that's certain; they that dally nicely with words, may quickly make them wanton. Clo. I would, therefore, my sister had had no name, sir. Vio. Why, man? Clo. Why, sir, her name's a word; and to dally with that word, might make my sister wanton: But, indeed words are very rascals, since bonds disgraced them. Vio. Thy reason, man? Clo. Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words; and words are grown so false, I am loath to prove reason with them. Vio. I warrant thou art a merry fellow, and carest for nothing. Clo. Not so, sir, I do care for something: but in my conscience, sir, I do not care for you; if that be to care for nothing, sir, I would it would make you invisible. Vio. Art thou not the Lady Olivia's fool? Clo. No, indeed, sir; the Lady Olivia has no folly she will keep no fool, sir, till she be married; and fools are as like husbands as pilchards are to herrings, the husband's the bigger. I am, indeed, not her fool, but her corrupter of words. Vio. I saw thee late at the Count Orsino's. Clo. Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb, like the sun; it shines every where. I would be sorry, sir, but the fool should be as oft with your master as with my mistress: I think I saw your wisdom there. Vio. Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee. Hold, there's expenses for thee. Clo. Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send thee a beard! Val. By my troth, I'll tell thee, I am almost sick for one; though I would not have it grow on my chin. Is thy lady within? Clo. Would not a pair of these have bred, sir? Vio. Yes, being kept together, and put to use. Clo. I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia, sir, to bring a Cressida to this Troilus. Vio. I understand you, sir; 't is well begged. Clo. The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, begging but a beggar; Cressida was a beggar. My lady is within, sir. I will construe to them whence you come who you are, and what you would, are out of my welkin: I might say element, but the word is overworn. [Exit. Vio. This fellow's wise enough to play the fool; And to do that well craves a kind of wit: And, like the haggard, check at every feather As full of labor as a wise man's art: Sir Toby. Save you, gentlemen. Sir And. Dieu vous garde, monsieur. Sir And. I hope, sir, you are; and I am yours. Sir Toby. Will you encounter the house? my niece is desirous you should enter, if your trade be to her. Vio. I am bound to your niece, sir: I mean, she is the list of my voyage. Sir Toby. Taste your legs, sir: put them to motion. Vio. My legs do better understand me, sir, than I understand what you mean by bidding me taste my legs. Sir Toby. I mean to go, sir; to enter. Vio. I will answer you with gait and entrance: But we are prevented. Enter OLIVIA and MARIA. Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain odors on you! Sir And. That youth's a rare courtier: "Rain odors!" well. Vio. My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your own most pregnant and vouchsafed ear. Sir And. "Odors, pregnant, and vouchsafed:" -I'll get 'em all three ready. Oli. Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing. [Exeunt SIR TOBY, SIR ANDREW, and MARIA. Give me your hand, sir. Vio. My duty, madam, and most humble service. Oli. What is your name? Vio. Cesario is your servant's name, fair prin cess. Oli. My servant, sir! 'T was never merry world Since lowly feigning was called compliment : You are servant to the Count Orsino, youth. Oli. Stay: I pr'y thee tell me what thou think'st of me. are. Oli. If I think so, I think the same of you. Vio. Then think you right; I am not what I am. Oli. I would you were as I would have you be ! Vio. Would it be better, madam, than I am? I wish it might; for now I am your fool. Oli. O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his lip! A murderous guilt shews not itself more soon Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon. Cesario, by the roses of the spring, By maidhood, honor, truth, and every thing, Oli. Give me leave, I beseech you. I did send, I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride, Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide. Oli. Yet come again: for thou perhaps mayst move That heart, which now abhors, to like his love. [Exeunt. SCENE II. A Room in OLIVIA's house. Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK, and FABIAN. Sir And. No, faith, I'll not stay a jot longer. Sir Toby. Thy reason, dear venom, give thy reason. Fab. You must needs yield your reason, Sir Andrew. Sir And. Marry, I saw your niece do more favors to the count's serving-man than ever she bestowed upon me; I saw 'ti' the orchard. Sir Toby. Did she see thee the while, old boy? tell me that. |