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Before OLIVIA'S house.

Will you make me believe that I am
not sent for you?

Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow:

Let me be clear of thee.

Well held out, i' faith! No, I do not
know you; nor I am not sent to you by my
lady, to bid you come speak with her; nor
your name is not Master Cesario; nor this is
not my nose neither. Nothing that is so is so. (11)

I prithee, vent thy folly somewhere else:

Thou know'st not me.

Vent my folly; he has heard that
word of some great man and now applies it to
a fool. Vent my folly! I am afraid this great
lubber, the world, will prove a cockney. I
prithee now, ungird thy strangeness and tell

me what I shall vent to my lady: shall I vent
to her that thou art coming?

I prithee, foolish Greek, depart from me:

There's money for thee: if you tarry longer, (21)
I shall give worse payment.

By my troth, thou hast an open hand.
These wise men that give fools money get
themselves a good report—after fourteen years'
purchase. Enter SIR ANDREW, SIR TOBY, and FABIAN.

Sir And.
Now, sir, have I met you again?
there's for you.

Why, there's for thee, and there, and there.

Are all the people mad?

Sir To.
Hold, sir, or I'll throw your dagger (31)
o'er the house.

This will I tell my lady straight: I
would not be in some of your coats for two
pence. [Exit.

Sir To.
Come on, sir; hold.

Sir And.
Nay, let him alone: I'll go another
way to work with him; I'll have an action
of battery against him, if there be any law
in Illyria: though I struck him first, yet it's
no matter for that. (40)

Let go thy hand.

Sir To.
Come, sir, I will not let you go.
Come, my young soldier, put up your iron:
you are well fleshed; come on.

I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou now?

If thou darest tempt me further, draw thy sword.

Sir To.
What, what? Nay, then I must
have an ounce or two of this malapert blood
from you. Enter OLIVIA.

Hold, Toby; on thy life I charge thee, hold! (50)

Sir To.

Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch,

Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves,

Where manners ne'er were preach'd! out of my sight!

Be not offended, dear Cesario.

Rudesby, be gone! [Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian.

I prithee, gentle friend,

Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway

In this uncivil and unjust extent

Against thy peace. Go with me to my house,

And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks

This ruffian hath botch'd up, that thou thereby (61)

Mayst smile at this: thou shalt not choose but go:

Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me,

He started one poor heart of mine in thee.

What relish is in this? how runs the stream?

Or I am mad, or else this is a dream:

Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;

If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!

Nay, come, I prithee; would thou'ldst be ruled by me!

Madam, I will.

O, say so, and so be! [Exeunt.


OLIVIA'S house.
Enter MARIA and CLOWN.

Nay, I prithee, put on this gown and
this beard; make him believe thou art Sir
Topas the curate: do it quickly; I'll call Sir
Toby the whilst. [Exit.

Well, I'll put it on, and I will dissemble
myself in't; and I would I were the first
that ever dissembled in such a gown. I am not
tall enough to become the function well, nor
lean enough to be thought a good student; but
to be said an honest man and a good housekeeper

goes as fairly as to say a careful man
and a great scholar. The competitors enter. Enter SIR TOBY and MARIA.

Sir To.
Jove bless thee, master Parson.

Bonos dies, Sir Toby: for, as the old
hermit of Prague, that never saw pen and ink,
very wittily said to a niece of King Gorboduc,
'That that is is;' so I, being Master Parson,

am master Parson; for, what is 'that' but
'that,' and 'is' but 'is'? (20)

Sir To.
To him, Sir Topas.

What, ho, I say! peace in this prison!

Sir To.
The knave counterfeits well; a good knave.

Who calls there?

Sir Topas the curate, who comes to
visit Malvolio the lunatic.

Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas,
go to my lady.

Out, hyperbolical fiend! how vexest
thou this man! talkest thou nothing but of (30)

Sir To.
Well said, master Parson.

Sir Topas, never was man thus
wronged: good Sir Topas, do not think I am
mad: they have laid me here in hideous darkness.

Fie, thou dishonest Satan! I call thee
by the most modest terms; for I am one of
those gentle ones that will use the devil himself
with courtesy: sayest thou that house is dark? (39)

As hell, Sir Topas.

Why, it hath bay windows transparent
as barricadoes, and the clearstores toward the
south north are as lustrous as ebony; and yet
complainest thou of obstruction?

I am not mad, Sir Topas: I say to
you, this house is dark.

Madman, thou errest: I say, there is
no darkness but ignorance; in which thou art
more puzzled than the Egyptians in their fog.

I say, this house is as dark as ignorance,
though ignorance were as dark as hell;
and I say, there was never man thus abused.
I am no more mad than you are: make the
trial of it in any constant question.

What is the opinion of Pythagoras
concerning wild fowl?

That the soul of our grandam might
happily inhabit a bird.

What thinkest thou of his opinion?

I think nobly of the soul, and no way (60)
approve his opinion.

Fare thee well. Remain thou still in
darkness: thou shalt hold the opinion of Pythagoras
ere I will allow of thy wits, and fear
to kill a woodcock, lest thou dispossess the
soul of thy grandam. Fare thee well.

Sir Topas, Sir Topas!

Sir To.
My most exquisite Sir Topas!

Nay, I am for all waters.

Thou mightest have done this without (70)
thy beard and gown: he sees thee not.

Sir To.
To him in thine own voice, and
bring me word how thou findest him: I would
we were well rid of this knavery. If he may
be conveniently delivered, I would he were, for
I am now so far in offence with my niece that
I cannot pursue with any safety this sport to
the upshot. Come by and by to my chamber. [Exeunt Sir Toby and Maria.

'Hey, Robin, jolly Robin,

Tell me how my lady does.' (80)


'My lady is unkind, perdy.'


'Alas, why is she so?'

Fool, I say!

'She loves another'—Who calls, ha?

Good fool, as ever thou wilt deserve
well at my hand, help me to a candle, and pen,
ink and paper: as I am a gentleman, I will
live to be thankful to thee for't. (90)

Master Malvolio?

Ay, good fool.

Alas, sir, how fell you besides your
five wits?

Fool, there was never man so notoriously
abused: I am as well in my wits, fool,
as thou art.

But as well? then you are mad indeed,
if you be no better in your wits than a fool.

They have here propertied me; keep
me in darkness, send ministers to me, asses,
and do all they can to face me out of my wits.

Advise you what you say; the minister
is here. Malvolio, Malvolio, thy wits the
heavens restore! endeavour thyself to sleep, and
leave thy vain bibble babble.

Sir Topas!

Maintain no words with him, good
fellow. Who, I, sir? not I, sir. God be wi' you,
good Sir Topas. Marry, amen. I will, sir, I will. (110)

Fool, fool, fool, I say!

Alas, sir, be patient. What say you
sir? I am shent for speaking to you.

Good fool, help me to some light and
some paper: I tell thee, I am as well in my
wits as any man in Illyria.

Well-a-day that you were, sir!

By this hand, I am. Good fool, some
ink, paper and light; and convey what I will
set down to my lady: it shall advantage thee (120)
more than ever the bearing of letter did.

I will help you to't. But tell me true,
are you not mad indeed? or do you but counterfeit?

Believe me, I am not; I tell thee true.

Nay, I'll ne'er believe a madman till I
see his brains. I will fetch you light and paper
and ink.

Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree:

I prithee, be gone.

I am gone, sir,
And anon, sir,
I'll be with you again,
In a trice,
Like to the old Vice,
Your need to sustain;
Who, with dagger of lath.
In his rage and his wrath,
Cries, ah, ha! to the devil:
Like a mad lad,
Pare thy nails, dad;
Adieu, good man devil.



OLIVIA'S garden.

This is the air; that is the glorious sun;

This pearl she gave me, I do feel't and see't;

And though 'tis wonder that enwraps me thus,

Yet 'tis not madness. Where's Antonio, then?

I could not find him at the Elephant:

Yet there he was; and there I found this credit,

That he did range the town to seek me out.

His counsel now might do me golden service;

For though my soul disputes well with my sense,

That this may be some error, but no madness,

Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune

So far exceed all instance, all discourse,

That I am ready to distrust mine eyes

And wrangle with my reason that persuades me

To any other trust but that I am mad

Or else the lady's mad; yet, if 'twere so,

She could not sway her house, command her followers,

Take and give back affairs and their dispatch (19)

With such a smooth, discreet and stable bearing

As I perceive she does: there's something in't

That is deceivable. But here the lady comes. Enter OLIVIA and Priest.

Blame not this haste of mine. If you mean well,

Now go with me and with this holy man

Into the chantry by: there, before him,

And underneath that consecrated roof,

Plight me the full assurance of your faith;

That my most jealous and too doubtful soul

May live at peace. He shall conceal it

Whiles you are willing it shall come to note, (30)

What time we will our celebration keep

According to my birth. What do you say?

I'll follow this good man, and go with you;

And, having sworn truth, ever will be true.

Then lead the way, good father; and heavens so shine,

That they may fairly note this act of mine! [Exeunt.

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