Scene
SCENE, the street.
Enter Sebastian and Clown.
Clown.
Will you make me believe that I am not
sent for you?
Seb.
Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow.
Let me be clear of thee.
Clo.
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
-- 369 --
master Cesario, nor this is not my nose, neither; nothing
that is so, is so.
Seb.
I pry'thee, vent thy folly somewhere else;
thou know'st not me.
Clo.
Vent my folly! he has heard that word of
some great man, and now applies it to a fool.
Vent my folly! I pr'ythee now, ungird thy strangeness,
and tell me what I shall vent to my lady; shall
I vent to her that thou art coming?
Seb.
I pr'ythee, foolish geck, depart from me;
there's money for thee. If you tarry longer, I shall
give worse payment.
Clo.
These wise men that give fools money, get
themselves a good report,† note after fourteen years purchase.
Enter Sir Andrew, Sir Toby, and Fabian.
Sir And.
Now, Sir, have I met you again? there's
for you.
[Striking Sebastian.
Seb.
Why, there's for thee, and there, and there:
are all the people mad?
[Beating Sir Andrew.
Sir To.
Hold, Sir, or I'll throw your dagger o'er
the house.
Clo.
This will I tell my lady straight: I would
not be in some of your coats, for two pence.
[Exit Clown.
Sir To.
Come on, Sir, hold.
[Holding Sebastian.
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's any law in Illyria; tho' I
struck him first, yet it's no matter for that?
Seb.
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
flesh'd: come on.
-- 370 --
Seb.
I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou
now? if thou dar'st 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.* note
[They draw and fight.
Scene
SCENE. Enter Olivia.
Oli.
Hold, Toby, on thy life I charge thee, hold.
Sir To.
Madam?
Oli.
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.
† noteRudesby, be gone! I pr'ythee, gentle friend,
[Exeunt Sir Toby and Sir Andrew.
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
May'st smile at this: thou shalt not chuse but go:
Do not deny; beshrew his soul for me!
He started one poor heart of mine, in thee.
Seb.
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.
Oli.
Nay, come I pray: would thou'dst be rul'd by me!
Seb.
Madam, I will.
[Exeunt.
-- 371 --
Scene
SCENE, Olivia's house.
Enter Maria and Clown.
Mar.
Nay, I pr'ythee, 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 Maria.
Clo.
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. The competitors enter.
Enter Sir Toby and Maria.
Sir To.
Jove bless thee, Mr. Parson.
Clo.
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 Gorboduck, that that is, is: so I being
Mr. Parson, am Mr. Parson: for what is that,
but that? and is, but is?
Sir To.
To him, Sir Topas.
Clo.
What, hoa, I say, peace in this prison!
[In a counterfeit voice.
Sir To.
The knave counterfeits well; a good knave.
[Malvolio within.
Mal
Who calls there?
Clo.
Sir Topas the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio
the lunatick.
[This and all that follows from the Clown, in a counterfeit voice.]
Mal.
Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to
my lady.
Clo.
Out, hyperbolical fiend, how vexest thou this man?
Talkest thou nothing but of ladies?
Sir To.
Well said, master Parson.
Mal.
Sir Topas, never was man thus wrong'd;
good Sir Topas, do not think I am mad; they have
laid me here in hideous darkness.
Clo.
Say'st thou that house is dark?
-- 372 --
Mal.
As hell, Sir Topas.
Clo.
Madam, thou errest; I say there is no darkness,
but ignorance, in which thou art more puzzled, than the
Egyptians in their fog.
Mal.
I say this house is as dark as ignorance,
though ignorance were as dark as hell; and I say
there was never man thus abus'd; I am no more
mad, than you are; make the trial of it, in any constant
question.‡ note
Clo.
What is the opinion of Pythagoras, concerning
wild fowl?
Mal.
That the soul of our grandam might happily
inhabit a bird.
Clo.
What think'st thou of his opinion?
Mal.
I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve
his opinion.
Clo.
Fare thee well: remain thou still in darkness;
thou shalt hold th' opinion of Pythagoras, ere I will
allow of thy wits, and fear to kill a woodcock, lest thou
dispossess the house of thy grandam. Fare thee well.
Mal.
Sir Topas, Sir Topas!
Sir To.
My most exquisite Sir Topas!
Clo.
Nay, I am for all waters.
[This in his own voice.
Mar.
Thou might'st have done this, without thy
beard and gown; he sees thee not.
Sir To.
To him in thine own voice, and bring
me word how thou find'st him.
[Exit, with Maria.
Scene
SCENE.
Clo.
Hey Robin, jolly Robin, tell me how my lady
does.
[Singing.
Mal.
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.
-- 337 --
Clo.
Mr. Malvolio!
Mal.
Ay, good fool.
Clo.
Alas, Sir, how fell you besides your five wits?
Mal.
Fool, there was never man so notoriously
abus'd; I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art.
Clo.
But as well! then thou art mad indeed, if
you be no better in your wits than a fool.
Mal.
Good fool, some ink, paper, and light;
and convey what I set down to my lady: it shall
advantage thee more, than ever the bearing of letters
did.
Clo.
I will help you to't. But tell me true, are
you not mad indeed, or do you but counterfeit!
Mal.
Believe me, I am not: I tell thee true.
Clo.
Nay, I'll ne'er believe a madman, 'till I see
his brains. I will fetch you light, and paper, and
ink.
Mal.
Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree:
I pr'ythee, begone.
Clo.
I am gone, Sir, and anon, Sir,
[Singing.
I'll be with you again.
[Exit.
Scene
SCENE a street.
Enter Sebastian.
Seb.
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.
His counsel now might do me golden service;
For tho' 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'm mad,
-- 338 --
Or else the lady's mad.* note
But here she comes.
Enter Olivia and Priest.
Oli.
Blame not this haste of mine; if you mean well,
Now go with me and with this holy man,
Into the chantry† note 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 henceforth 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?
Seb.
I'll follow this good man, and go with you,
And having sworn truth, ever will be true.
Oli.
Then lead the way, good father; heav'ns so shine,
That they may fairly note this act of mine.
Exeunt.‡ note
End of the Fourth ACT.
-- 339 --
John Bell [1774], Bell's Edition of Shakespeare's Plays, As they are now performed at the Theatres Royal in London; Regulated from the Prompt Books of each House By Permission; with Notes Critical and Illustrative; By the Authors of the Dramatic Censor (Printed for John Bell... and C. Etherington [etc.], York) [word count] [S10401].
