| ACT IIISCENE IV | OLIVIA's garden. | |
| | Enter OLIVIA and MARIA | |
| OLIVIA | I have sent after him: he says he'll come; | |
| | How shall I feast him? what bestow of him? | |
| | For youth is bought more oft than begg'd or borrow'd. | |
| | I speak too loud. | 5 |
| | Where is Malvolio? he is sad and civil, | |
| | 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, possessed, madam. | 10 |
| 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. | |
| OLIVIA | Go call him hither. | 15 |
| | Exit MARIA | |
| | I am as mad as he, | |
| | If sad and merry madness equal be. | |
| | Re-enter MARIA, with MALVOLIO | |
| | How now, Malvolio! | |
| MALVOLIO | Sweet lady, ho, ho. | |
| OLIVIA | Smilest thou? | 20 |
| | I sent for thee upon a sad occasion. | |
| MALVOLIO | Sad, 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 | 25 |
| | please all.' | |
| OLIVIA | Why, how dost thou, man? what is the matter with thee? | |
| MALVOLIO | Not black in my mind, though yellow in my legs. It | |
| | did come to his hands, and commands shall be | |
| | executed: I think we do know the sweet Roman hand. | 30 |
| OLIVIA | Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio? | |
| MALVOLIO | To bed! ay, sweet-heart, and I'll come to thee. | |
| OLIVIA | God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so and kiss | |
| | thy hand so oft? | |
| MARIA | How do you, Malvolio? | 35 |
| MALVOLIO | At your request! yes; nightingales answer daws. | |
| 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,'-- | 40 |
| OLIVIA | Ha! | |
| MALVOLIO | 'Some achieve greatness,'-- | |
| OLIVIA | What sayest thou? | |
| MALVOLIO | 'And some have greatness thrust upon them.' | |
| OLIVIA | Heaven restore thee! | 45 |
| 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;'-- | 50 |
| OLIVIA | Am I made? | |
| MALVOLIO | 'If not, let me see thee a servant still.' | |
| OLIVIA | Why, this is very midsummer madness. | |
| | Enter Servant | |
| Servant | Madam, the young gentleman of the Count Orsino's is | |
| | returned: I could hardly entreat him back: he | 55 |
| | attends 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 miscarry for the | 60 |
| | half of my dowry. | |
| | Exeunt OLIVIA and MARIA | |
| MALVOLIO | O, ho! do you come near 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 | 65 |
| | 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 | |
| | consequently sets down the manner how; as, a sad | 70 |
| | face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in the | |
| | habit of some sir of note, and so forth. I have | |
| | limed 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 | 75 |
| | after my degree, but fellow. Why, every thing | |
| | adheres together, that no dram of a scruple, no | |
| | scruple of a scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous | |
| | or unsafe circumstance--What can be said? Nothing | |
| | that can be can come between me and the full | 80 |
| | prospect of my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the | |
| | doer of this, and he is to be thanked. | |
| | Re-enter MARIA, with SIR TOBY BELCH and FABIAN | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all | |
| | the devils of hell be drawn in little, and Legion | |
| | himself possessed him, yet I'll speak to him. | 85 |
| FABIAN | Here he is, here he is. How is't with you, sir? | |
| | how is't with you, man? | |
| MALVOLIO | Go off; I discard you: let me enjoy my private: go | |
| | off. | |
| MARIA | Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did not | 90 |
| | I tell you? Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a | |
| | care of him. | |
| MALVOLIO | Ah, ha! does she so? | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | Go to, go to; peace, peace; we must deal gently | |
| | with him: let me alone. How do you, Malvolio? how | 95 |
| | is't with you? What, man! defy the devil: | |
| | consider, he's an enemy to mankind. | |
| MALVOLIO | Do you know what you say? | |
| MARIA | La you, an you speak ill of the devil, how he takes | |
| | it at heart! Pray God, he be not bewitched! | 100 |
| FABIAN | Carry his water to the wise woman. | |
| MARIA | Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning, if I | |
| | live. My lady would not lose him for more than I'll say. | |
| MALVOLIO | How now, mistress! | |
| MARIA | O Lord! | 105 |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | Prithee, hold thy peace; this is not the way: do | |
| | you not see you move him? let me alone with him. | |
| FABIAN | No way but gentleness; gently, gently: the fiend is | |
| | rough, and will not be roughly used. | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | Why, how now, my bawcock! how dost thou, chuck? | 110 |
| MALVOLIO | Sir! | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, man! 'tis not for | |
| | gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan: hang | |
| | him, foul collier! | |
| MARIA | Get him to say his prayers, good Sir Toby, get him to pray. | 115 |
| MALVOLIO | My prayers, minx! | |
| MARIA | No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godliness. | |
| MALVOLIO | Go, hang yourselves all! you are idle shallow | |
| | things: I am not of your element: you shall know | |
| | more hereafter. | 120 |
| | Exit | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | Is't possible? | |
| FABIAN | If this were played upon a stage now, I could | |
| | condemn it as an improbable fiction. | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | His very genius hath taken the infection of the device, man. | |
| MARIA | Nay, pursue him now, lest the device take air and taint. | 125 |
| FABIAN | Why, we shall make him mad indeed. | |
| MARIA | The house will be the quieter. | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | Come, we'll have him in a dark room and bound. My | |
| | niece is already in the belief that he's mad: we | |
| | may carry it thus, for our pleasure and his penance, | 130 |
| | till our very pastime, tired out of breath, prompt | |
| | us to have mercy on him: at which time we will | |
| | bring the device to the bar and crown thee for a | |
| | finder of madmen. But see, but see. | |
| | Enter SIR ANDREW | |
| FABIAN | More matter for a May morning. | 135 |
| SIR ANDREW | Here's the challenge, read it: warrant there's | |
| | vinegar and pepper in't. | |
| FABIAN | Is't so saucy? | |
| SIR ANDREW | Ay, is't, I warrant him: do but read. | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | Give me. | 140 |
| | Reads | |
| | 'Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art but a scurvy fellow.' | |
| FABIAN | Good, and valiant. | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | Reads | |
| | why I do call thee so, for I will show thee no reason for't.' | |
| FABIAN | A good note; that keeps you from the blow of the law. | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | Reads | |
| | sight she uses thee kindly: but thou liest in thy | 145 |
| | throat; that is not the matter I challenge thee for.' | |
| FABIAN | Very brief, and to exceeding good sense--less. | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | Reads | |
| | be thy chance to kill me,'-- | |
| FABIAN | Good. | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | Reads | |
| FABIAN | Still you keep o' the windy side of the law: good. | 150 |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | Reads | |
| | one of our souls! He may have mercy upon mine; but | |
| | my hope is better, and so look to thyself. Thy | |
| | friend, as thou usest him, and thy sworn enemy, | |
| | ANDREW AGUECHEEK. | |
| | If this letter move him not, his legs cannot: | 155 |
| | I'll give't him. | |
| MARIA | You may have very fit occasion for't: he is now in | |
| | some commerce with my lady, and will by and by depart. | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | Go, Sir Andrew: scout me for him at the corner the | |
| | orchard like a bum-baily: so soon as ever thou seest | 160 |
| | him, draw; and, as thou drawest swear horrible; for | |
| | it comes to pass oft that a terrible oath, with a | |
| | swaggering accent sharply twanged off, gives manhood | |
| | more approbation than ever proof itself would have | |
| | earned him. Away! | 165 |
| SIR ANDREW | Nay, let me alone for swearing. | |
| | Exit | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | Now will not I deliver his letter: for the behavior | |
| | of the young gentleman gives him out to be of good | |
| | capacity and breeding; his employment between his | |
| | lord and my niece confirms no less: therefore this | 170 |
| | letter, being so excellently ignorant, will breed no | |
| | terror in the youth: he will find it comes from a | |
| | clodpole. But, sir, I will deliver his challenge by | |
| | word of mouth; set upon Aguecheek a notable report | |
| | of valour; and drive the gentleman, as I know his | 175 |
| | youth will aptly receive it, into a most hideous | |
| | opinion of his rage, skill, fury and impetuosity. | |
| | This will so fright them both that they will kill | |
| | one another by the look, like cockatrices. | |
| | Re-enter OLIVIA, with VIOLA | |
| FABIAN | Here he comes with your niece: give them way till | 180 |
| | he take leave, and presently after him. | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | I will meditate the while upon some horrid message | |
| | for a challenge. | |
| | Exeunt SIR TOBY BELCH, FABIAN, and MARIA | |
| OLIVIA | I have said too much unto a heart of stone | |
| | And laid mine honour too unchary out: | 185 |
| | There's something in me that reproves my fault; | |
| | But such a headstrong potent fault it is, | |
| | That it but mocks reproof. | |
| VIOLA | With the same 'havior that your passion bears | |
| | Goes on my master's grief. | 190 |
| OLIVIA | Here, wear this jewel for me, 'tis my picture; | |
| | Refuse it not; it hath no tongue to vex you; | |
| | And I beseech you come again to-morrow. | |
| | What shall you ask of me that I'll deny, | |
| | That honour saved may upon asking give? | 195 |
| VIOLA | Nothing but this; your true love for my master. | |
| OLIVIA | How with mine honour may I give him that | |
| | Which I have given to you? | |
| VIOLA | I will acquit you. | |
| OLIVIA | Well, come again to-morrow: fare thee well: | 200 |
| | A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell. | |
| | Exit | |
| | Re-enter SIR TOBY BELCH and FABIAN | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | Gentleman, God save thee. | |
| VIOLA | And you, sir. | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | That defence thou hast, betake thee to't: of what | |
| | nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know | 205 |
| | not; but thy intercepter, full of despite, bloody as | |
| | the hunter, attends thee at the orchard-end: | |
| | dismount thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation, for | |
| | thy assailant is quick, skilful and deadly. | |
| VIOLA | You mistake, sir; I am sure no man hath any quarrel | 210 |
| | to me: my remembrance is very free and clear from | |
| | any image of offence done to any man. | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | You'll find it otherwise, I assure you: therefore, | |
| | if you hold your life at any price, betake you to | |
| | your guard; for your opposite hath in him what | 215 |
| | youth, strength, skill and wrath can furnish man withal. | |
| VIOLA | I pray you, sir, what is he? | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | He is knight, dubbed with unhatched rapier and on | |
| | carpet consideration; but he is a devil in private | |
| | brawl: souls and bodies hath he divorced three; and | 220 |
| | his incensement at this moment is so implacable, | |
| | that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death | |
| | and sepulchre. Hob, nob, is his word; give't or take't. | |
| VIOLA | I will return again into the house and desire some | |
| | conduct of the lady. I am no fighter. I have heard | 225 |
| | of some kind of men that put quarrels purposely on | |
| | others, to taste their valour: belike this is a man | |
| | of that quirk. | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | Sir, no; his indignation derives itself out of a | |
| | very competent injury: therefore, get you on and | 230 |
| | give him his desire. Back you shall not to the | |
| | house, unless you undertake that with me which with | |
| | as much safety you might answer him: therefore, on, | |
| | or strip your sword stark naked; for meddle you | |
| | must, that's certain, or forswear to wear iron about you. | 235 |
| VIOLA | This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you, do me | |
| | this courteous office, as to know of the knight what | |
| | my offence to him is: it is something of my | |
| | negligence, nothing of my purpose. | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by this | 240 |
| | gentleman till my return. | |
| | Exit | |
| VIOLA | Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter? | |
| FABIAN | I know the knight is incensed against you, even to a | |
| | mortal arbitrement; but nothing of the circumstance more. | |
| VIOLA | I beseech you, what manner of man is he? | 245 |
| FABIAN | 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 | 250 |
| | towards him? I will make your peace with him if I | |
| | can. | |
| VIOLA | I shall be much bound to you for't: I am one that | |
| | had rather go with sir priest than sir knight: I | |
| | care not who knows so much of my mettle. | 255 |
| | Exeunt | |
| | Re-enter SIR TOBY BELCH, with SIR ANDREW | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | Why, man, he's a very devil; I have not seen such a | |
| | firago. 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 | 260 |
| | step on. They say he has been fencer to the Sophy. | |
| SIR ANDREW | Pox on't, I'll not meddle with him. | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | Ay, but he will not now be pacified: Fabian can | |
| | scarce hold him yonder. | |
| SIR ANDREW | Plague on't, an I thought he had been valiant and so | 265 |
| | cunning in fence, I'ld have seen him damned ere I'ld | |
| | have challenged him. Let him let the matter slip, | |
| | and I'll give him my horse, grey Capilet. | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | I'll make the motion: stand here, make a good show | |
| | on't: this shall end without the perdition of souls. | 270 |
| | Aside | |
| | Marry, I'll ride your horse as well as I ride you. | |
| | Re-enter FABIAN and VIOLA | |
| | To FABIAN | |
| | I have his horse to take up the quarrel: | |
| | I have persuaded him the youth's a devil. | |
| FABIAN | He is as horribly conceited of him; and pants and | |
| | looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels. | 275 |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | To VIOLA | |
| | with you for's oath sake: marry, he hath better | |
| | bethought him of his quarrel, and he finds that now | |
| | scarce to be worth talking of: therefore draw, for | |
| | the supportance of his vow; he protests he will not hurt you. | |
| VIOLA | Aside | |
| | make me tell them how much I lack of a man. | 280 |
| FABIAN | Give ground, if you see him furious. | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | 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 | 285 |
| | will not hurt you. Come on; to't. | |
| SIR ANDREW | Pray God, he keep his oath! | |
| VIOLA | I do assure you, 'tis against my will. | |
| | They draw | |
| | Enter ANTONIO | |
| ANTONIO | Put up your sword. If this young gentleman | |
| | Have done offence, I take the fault on me: | 290 |
| | If you offend him, I for him defy you. | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | You, sir! why, what are you? | |
| ANTONIO | One, sir, that for his love dares yet do more | |
| | Than you have heard him brag to you he will. | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for you. | 295 |
| | They draw | |
| | Enter Officers | |
| FABIAN | O good Sir Toby, hold! here come the officers. | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | I'll be with you anon. | |
| VIOLA | Pray, sir, put your sword up, if you please. | |
| SIR ANDREW | Marry, will I, sir; and, for that I promised you, | |
| | I'll be as good as my word: he will bear you easily | 300 |
| | and reins well. | |
| First Officer | This is the man; do thy office. | |
| Second Officer | Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit of Count Orsino. | |
| ANTONIO | You do mistake me, sir. | |
| First Officer | No, sir, no jot; I know your favour well, | 305 |
| | Though now you have no sea-cap on your head. | |
| | Take him away: he knows I know him well. | |
| ANTONIO | I must obey. | |
| | To VIOLA | |
| | This comes with seeking you: | |
| | But there's no remedy; I shall answer it. | 310 |
| | 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 amazed; | |
| | But be of comfort. | 315 |
| Second Officer | Come, sir, away. | |
| ANTONIO | I must entreat of you some of that money. | |
| VIOLA | What money, sir? | |
| | For the fair kindness you have show'd me here, | |
| | And, part, being prompted by your present trouble, | 320 |
| | Out of my lean and low ability | |
| | I'll lend you something: my having is not much; | |
| | I'll make division of my present with you: | |
| | Hold, there's half my coffer. | |
| ANTONIO | Will you deny me now? | 325 |
| | Is't possible that my deserts to you | |
| | Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery, | |
| | Lest that it make me so unsound a man | |
| | As to upbraid you with those kindnesses | |
| | That I have done for you. | 330 |
| VIOLA | I know of none; | |
| | Nor know I you by voice or any feature: | |
| | I hate ingratitude more in a man | |
| | Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, | |
| | Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption | 335 |
| | Inhabits our frail blood. | |
| ANTONIO | O heavens themselves! | |
| Second Officer | Come, sir, I pray you, go. | |
| ANTONIO | Let me speak a little. This youth that you see here | |
| | I snatch'd one half out of the jaws of death, | 340 |
| | Relieved him with such sanctity of love, | |
| | And to his image, which methought did promise | |
| | Most venerable worth, did I devotion. | |
| First Officer | What's that to us? The time goes by: away! | |
| ANTONIO | But O how vile an idol proves this god | 345 |
| | Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame. | |
| | In nature there's no blemish but the mind; | |
| | None can be call'd deform'd but the unkind: | |
| | Virtue is beauty, but the beauteous evil | |
| | Are empty trunks o'erflourish'd by the devil. | 350 |
| First Officer | The man grows mad: away with him! Come, come, sir. | |
| ANTONIO | Lead me on. | |
| | Exit with Officers | |
| VIOLA | Methinks his words do from such passion fly, | |
| | That he believes himself: so do not I. | |
| | Prove true, imagination, O, prove true, | 355 |
| | That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you! | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | Come hither, knight; come hither, Fabian: we'll | |
| | whisper o'er a couplet or two of most sage saws. | |
| VIOLA | He named Sebastian: I my brother know | |
| | Yet living in my glass; even such and so | 360 |
| | 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 | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward than | 365 |
| | a hare: his dishonesty appears in leaving his | |
| | friend here in necessity and denying him; and for | |
| | his cowardship, ask Fabian. | |
| FABIAN | A coward, a most devout coward, religious in it. | |
| SIR ANDREW | 'Slid, I'll after him again and beat him. | 370 |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | Do; cuff him soundly, but never draw thy sword. | |
| SIR ANDREW | An I do not,-- | |
| FABIAN | Come, let's see the event. | |
| SIR TOBY BELCH | I dare lay any money 'twill be nothing yet. | |
| | Exeunt | |
