MALVOLIO. 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.
CLOWN. Advise you what. you say: the
minister is here.
[Speaking as SIR TOPAS] Malvolio, thy wits the heavens restore!
Endeavour thyself to sleep, and leave thy vain bibble-babble.
MALVOLIO. Sir Topas!
CLOWN. Maintain no words with him, good fellow.- Who, I, sir? Not
I, sir. God buy you, good Sir Topas.- Marry, amen.- I will sir, I
will.
MALVOLIO. Fool, fool, fool, I say!
CLOWN. Alas, sir, be patient. What say you, sir? I am shent for
speaking to you.
MALVOLIO. 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.
CLOWN. Well-a-day that you were, sir!
MALVOLIO. 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 more than ever the
bearing of letter did.
CLOWN. I will help you to't. But tell me true, are you not mad
indeed, or do you but counterfeit?
MALVOLIO. Believe me, I am not; I tell thee true.
CLOWN. Nay, I'll ne'er believe a
madman till I see his brains.
I will fetch you light and paper and ink.
MALVOLIO. Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree; I prithe be
gone.
CLOWN. [Singing]
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, goodman devil. Exit
SCENE III.
OLIVIA'S garden
Enter SEBASTIAN
SEBASTIAN. 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
With such a smooth,
discreet, and
stablebearing,
As I
perceive she does. There's something in't
That is deceivable. But here the lady comes.
Enter OLIVIA and PRIEST
OLIVIA. 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 fun
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,
What time we will our
celebration keep
According to my birth. What do you say?
SEBASTIAN. I'll follow this good man, and go with you;
And, having sworn truth, ever will be true.
OLIVIA. Then lead the way, good father; and heavens so shine
That they may fairly note this act of mine! Exeunt
ACT V. SCENE I.
Before OLIVIA's house
Enter CLOWN and FABIAN
FABIAN. Now, as thou lov'st me, let me see his letter.
CLOWN. Good Master Fabian, grant me another request.
FABIAN. Anything.
CLOWN. Do not desire to see this letter.
FABIAN. This is to give a dog, and in
recompense desire my dog
again.
Enter DUKE, VIOLA, CURIO, and LORDS
DUKE. Belong you to the Lady Olivia, friends?
CLOWN. Ay, sir, we are some of her trappings.
DUKE. I know thee well. How dost thou, my good fellow?
CLOWN. Truly, sir, the better for my foes and the worse for my
friends.
DUKE. Just the
contrary: the better for thy friends.
CLOWN. No, sir, the worse.
DUKE. How can that be?
CLOWN. Marry, sir, they praise me and make an ass of me. Now my
foes tell me
plainly I am an ass; so that by my foes, sir, I
profit in the knowledge of myself, and by my friends I am abused;
so that,
conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives make
your two affirmatives, why then, the worse for my friends, and
the better for my foes.
DUKE. Why, this is excellent.
CLOWN. By my troth, sir, no; though it please you to be one of my
friends.
DUKE. Thou shalt not be the worse for me. There's gold.
CLOWN. But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I would you could
make it another.
DUKE. O, you give me ill
counsel.
CLOWN. Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this once, and let
your flesh and blood obey it.
DUKE. Well, I will be so much a
sinner to be a double-dealer.
There's another.
CLOWN. Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play; and the old saying
is 'The third pays for all.' The triplex, sir, is a good tripping
measure; or the bells of Saint Bennet, sir, may put you in mind-
one, two, three.
DUKE. You can fool no more money out of me at this throw; if you
will let your lady know I am here to speak with her, and bring
her along with you, it may awake my
bounty further.
CLOWN. Marry, sir,
lullaby to your
bounty till I come again. I go,
sir; but I would not have you to think that my desire of having
is the sin of covetousness. But, as you say, sir, let your
bountytake a nap; I will awake it anon. Exit
Enter ANTONIO and OFFICERS
VIOLA. Here comes the man, sir, that did
rescue me.
DUKE. That face of his I do remember well;
Yet when I saw it last it was besmear'd
As black as Vulcan in the smoke of war.
A baubling
vessel was he captain of,
For
shallowdraught and bulk unprizable,
With which such scathful
grapple did he make
With the most noble bottom of our fleet
That very envy and the tongue of los
Cried fame and honour on him. What's the matter?
FIRST OFFICER. Orsino, this is that Antonio
That took the Phoenix and her
fraught from Candy;
And this is he that did the Tiger board
When your young
nephew Titus lost his leg.
Here in the streets,
desperate of shame and state,
In private brabble did we
apprehend him.
VIOLA. He did me kindness, sir; drew on my side;
But in
conclusion put strange speech upon me.
I know not what 'twas but distraction.
DUKE. Notable
pirate, thou salt-water thief!
What foolish
boldness brought thee to their mercies
Whom thou, in terms so
bloody and so dear,
Hast made thine enemies?
ANTONIO. Orsino, noble sir,
Be pleas'd that I shake off these names you give me:
Antonio never yet was thief or
pirate,
Though I
confess, on base and ground enough,
Orsino's enemy. A
witchcraft drew me hither:
That most ingrateful boy there by your side
From the rude sea's enrag'd and foamy mouth
Did I
redeem; a wreck past hope he was.
His life I gave him, and did
thereto ad
My love without retention or restraint,
All his in dedication; for his sake,
Did I
expose myself, pure for his love,
Into the danger of this
adverse town;
Drew to defend him when he was beset;
Where being
apprehended, his false cunning,
Not meaning to
partake with me in danger,
Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,
And grew a twenty years removed thing
While one would wink; denied me mine own purse,
Which I had recommended to his use
Not half an hour before.
VIOLA. How can this be?
DUKE. When came he to this town?
ANTONIO. To-day, my lord; and for three months before,
No int'rim, not a minute's vacancy,
Both day and night did we keep company.
Enter OLIVIA and ATTENDANTS
DUKE. Here comes the Countess; now heaven walks on earth.
But for thee, fellow- fellow, thy words are
madness.
Three months this youth hath tended upon me-
But more of that anon. Take him aside.
OLIVIA. What would my lord, but that he may not have,
Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?
Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.
VIOLA. Madam?
DUKE. Gracious Olivia-
OLIVIA. What do you say, Cesario? Good my lord-
VIOLA. My lord would speak; my duty hushes me.
OLIVIA. If it be aught to the old tune, my lord,
It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear
As howling after music.
DUKE. Still so cruel?
OLIVIA. Still so
constant, lord.
DUKE. What, to perverseness? You uncivil lady,
To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars
My soul the faithfull'st off'rings hath breath'd out
That e'er
devotion tender'd! What shall I do?
OLIVIA. Even what it please my lord, that shall become him.
DUKE. Why should I not, had I the heart to do it,
Like to the Egyptian thief at point of death,
Kill what I love?- a
savagejealousy
That
sometime savours nobly. But hear me this:
Since you to non-regardance cast my faith,