SCENE IIOLIVIA'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.
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)
To him, Sir Topas.
What, ho, I say! peace in this prison!
The knave counterfeits well; a good knave. Mal.
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)
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!
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.
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)
Ay, good fool.
Alas, sir, how fell you besides your
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.
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
Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree:
I prithee, be gone. Clo.
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.