Maria.
Oli.
(15) note
I have sent after him; say, he will come;
How shall I feast him? what bestow on him?
For youth is bought more oft, than begg'd or borrow'd.
I speak too loud.—
Where is Malvolio? he is sad and civil,
And suits well for a servant with my fortunes.
Where is Malvolio?
Mar.
He's coming, Madam: but in very strange manner.
He is sure possest, Madam.
Oli.
Why, what's the matter, does he rave?
Mar.
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.
Oli.
Go call him hither.
Enter Malvolio.
I'm as mad as he,
If sad and merry madness equal be.
How now, Malvolio?
Mal.
Sweet Lady, ha, ha.
[Smiles fantastically.
Oli.
Smil'st thou? I sent for thee upon a sad occasion.
-- 508 --
Mal.
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
please all.
Oli.
Why? how dost thou, man? what is the matter
with thee?
Mal.
Not black in my mind, tho' yellow in my
legs: it did come to his hands, and Commands shall
be executed. I think, we do know that sweet Roman
hand.
Oli.
Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio?
Mal.
To bed? ay, sweet heart; and I'll come to
thee.
Oli.
God comfort thee! why dost thou smile so, and
kiss thy hand so oft?
Mar.
How do you, Malvolio?
Mal.
At your request?
Yes, Nightingales answer Daws!
Mar.
Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness
before my Lady.
Mal.
Be not afraid of Greatness;—'twas well writ.
Oli.
What meanest thou by that, Malvolio?
Mal.
Some are born Great—
Oli.
Ha?
Mal.
Some atchieve Greatness—
Oli.
What say'st thou?
Mal.
And some have Greatness thrust upon them—
Oli.
Heav'n restore thee!
Mal.
Remember, who commended thy yellow Stockings—
Oli.
Thy yellow Stockings?
Mal.
And wish'd to see thee cross-garter'd—
Oli.
Cross-garter'd?
Mal.
Go to, thou art made, if thou desirest to be
so—
Oli.
Am I made?
Mal.
If not, let me see thee a servant still.
Oli.
Why, this is very midsummer madness.
-- 509 --
Enter Servant.
Ser.
Madam, the young Gentleman of the Duke Orsino's
is return'd, I could hardly entreat him back; he
attends your Ladyship's pleasure.
Oli.
I'll come to him. Good Maria, let this fellow
be look'd to. Where's my Uncle Toby? let some of
my people have a special care of him; I would not
have him miscarry for the half of my dowry.
[Exit.
Mal.
Oh, 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 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 thy self
into the trick of singularity;—and consequently sets
down the manner how; as a sad face, a reverend carriage,
a slow tongue, in the habit of some Sir of note,
and so forth. I have lim'd her, but it is Jove's doing,
and Jove make me thankful! and when she went away
now, let this Fellow be look'd to: Fellow! not Malvolio,
nor 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 prospect
of my hopes. Well; Jove, not I, is the doer of this,
and he is to be thanked.
Enter Sir Toby, Fabian and Maria.
Sir To.
Which way is he, in the name of sanctity?
if all the Devils in Hell be drawn in little, and Legion
himself possest him, yet I'll speak to him.
Fab.
Here he is, here he is; how is't with you, Sir?
how is't with you, man?
Mal.
Go off; I discard you; let me enjoy my privacy:
go off.
Mar.
Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him!
did not I tell you? Sir Toby, my Lady prays you to
have a care of him.
-- 510 --
Mal.
Ah, ha! does she so?
Sir To.
Go to, go to; peace, peace, we must deal
gently with him; let me alone. How do you, Malvolio?
how is't with you? what! Man, defie the Devil,
consider, he's an enemy to Mankind.
Mal.
Do you know what you say?
Mar.
La, you! if you speak ill of the Devil, how
he takes it at heart.—Pray God, he be not bewitch'd.
Fab.
Carry his water to th' wise Woman.
Mar.
Marry, and it shall be done to morrow morning
if I live. My Lady would not lose him for more
than I'll say.
Mal.
How now, Mistress?
Mar.
O Lord!—
Sir To.
Pr'ythee, hold thy peace; that is not the
way: do you not see, you move him? let me alone with
him.
Fab.
No way but gentleness, gently, gently; the
fiend is rough, and will not be roughly us'd.
Sir To.
Why, how now, my Bawcock? how dost
thou, chuck?
Mal.
Sir?—
Sir To.
Ay, Biddy, come with me. What! Man,
'tis not for gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan.
Hang him, foul Collier.
Mar.
Get him to say his prayers, good Sir Toby;
get him to pray.
Mal.
My prayers, minx!
Mar.
No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godliness.
Mal.
Go hang your selves all: you are idle shallow
things; I am not of your element, you shall know
more hereafter.
[Exit.
Sir To.
Is't possible?
Fab.
If this were plaid upon a Stage now, I could
condemn it as an improbable fiction.
Sir To.
His very Genius hath taken the infection of
the device, Man.
Mar.
Nay, pursue him now, lest the device take air,
and taint.
-- 511 --
Fab.
Why, we shall make him mad, indeed.
Mar.
The house will be the quieter.
Sir To.
Come, we'll have him in a dark room and
bound. My Neice is already in the belief that he's
mad; we may carry it thus for our pleasure and his
penance, '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.
Fab.
More matter for a May morning.
Sir And.
Here's the challenge, read it: I warrant,
there's vinegar and pepper in't.
Fab.
Is't so sawcy?
Sir And.
Ay, is't? I warrant him: do but read.
Sir To.
Give me.
[Sir Toby reads.
Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art but a scurvy Fellow.
Fab.
Good and valiant.
Sir To.
Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind why I
do call thee so; for I will shew thee no reason for't.
Fab.
A good note; That keeps you from the blow of
the law.
Sir To.
Thou com'st to the Lady Olivia, and in my sight
she uses thee kindly; but thou liest in thy throat, that is
not the matter I challenge thee for.
Fab.
Very brief, and exceeding good sense-less.
Sir To.
I will way-lay thee going home, where if it be
thy chance to kill me—
Fab.
Good.
Sir To.
Thou kill'st me like a Rogue and a Villain.
Fab.
Still you keep o'th' windy side of the law:
good.
Sir To.
Fare thee well, and God have mercy upon one of
our Souls: he may have mercy upon mine, but my hope is
better, and so look to thy self. Thy friend as thou usest
him, and thy sworn enemy, Andrew Ague-cheek.
Sir To.
If this Letter move him not, his Legs cannot:
I'll give't him.
-- 512 --
Mar.
You may have very fit occasion for't: he is
now in some commerce with my Lady, and will by
and by depart.
Sir To.
Go, Sir Andrew, scout me for him at the
corner of the Orchard like a Bum-bailiff; so soon as
ever thou seest him, draw; and, as thou draw'st, swear
horribly; for it comes to pass oft, that a terrible oath,
with a swaggering accent sharply twang'd off, gives
manhood more approbation than ever proof it self
would have earn'd him. Away.
Sir And.
Nay, let me alone for swearing.
[Exit.
Sir To.
Now will not I deliver his Letter; for the behaviour
of the young Gentleman gives him out to be
of good Capacity and Breeding; his employment between
his Lord and my Neice confirms no less; therefore
this Letter, being so excellently ignorant, will
breed no terror in the Youth; he will find that it
comes from a Clod-pole. But, Sir, I will deliver his
Challenge by word of mouth; set upon Ague-cheek a
notable report of valour; and drive the Gentleman,
(as, I know, his 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.
Enter Olivia and Viola.
Fab.
Here he comes with your Neice; give them
way, 'till he take leave, and presently after him.
Sir To.
I will meditate the while upon some horrid
message for a challenge.
[Exeunt.
Oli.
I've said too much unto a heart of stone,
And laid mine honour too unchary out.
There's something in me, that reproves my fault;
But such a head-strong potent fault it is,
That it but mocks reproof.
Vio.
With the same haviour that your passion bears,
Goes on my Master's grief.
Oli.
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.
-- 513 --
What shall you ask of me that I'll deny,
That Honour sav'd may upon asking give?
Vio.
Nothing but this, your true love for my Master.
Oli.
How with mine honour may I give him That,
Which I have given to you?
Vio.
I will acquit you.
Oli.
Well, come again to morrow: fare thee well.
A Fiend, like thee, might bear my Soul to Hell.
[Exit.
Enter Sir Toby and Fabian.
Sir To.
Gentleman, God save thee.
Vio.
And you, Sir.
Sir To.
That Defence thou hast, betake thee to't; of
what nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I
know not; but thy intercepter, full of despight, 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.
Vio.
You mistake, Sir; I am sure, no man hath any
quarrel to me; my remembrance is very free and clear
from any image of offence done to any man.
Sir To.
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
youth, strength, skill, and wrath can furnish man withal.
Vio.
I pray you, Sir, what is he?
Sir To.
He is Knight, dubb'd with unhack'd rapier,
and on carpet consideration; but he is a Devil in private
brawl; souls and bodies hath he divorc'd three;
and his incensement at this moment is so implacable,
that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death
and sepulcher: hob, nob, is his word, give't, or take't.
Vio.
I will return again into the House, and desire
some conduct of the Lady. I am no Fighter. I have
heard of some kind of men, that put quarrels purposely
on others to taste their valour: belike, this is a man
of that quirk.
Sir To.
(16) noteSir, no: his indignation derives it self
out of a very competent injury; therefore get you on,
-- 514 --
and 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.
Vio.
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 To.
I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by
this Gentleman 'till my return.
[Exit Sir Toby.
Vio.
Pray you, Sir, do you know of this matter?
Fab.
I know, the Knight is incens'd against you,
even to a mortal arbitrement; but nothing of the circumstance
more.
Vio.
I beseech you, what manner of man is he?
Fab.
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 towards
him? I will make your peace with him, if I
can.
Vio.
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.
[Exeunt.
Enter Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew.
Sir To.
Why, man, he's a very Devil; I have not
seen such a virago: 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 step on. They say, he has been fencer to
the Sophy.
Sir And.
Pox on't, I'll not meddle with him.
Sir To.
Ay, but he will not now be pacified:
Fabian can scarce hold him yonder.
-- 515 --
Sir And.
Plague on't, an I thought he had been valiant,
and so cunning in fence, I'd have seen him
damn'd ere I'd have challeng'd him. Let him let the
matter slip, and I'll give him my horse, grey Capilet.
Sir To.
I'll make the motion; stand here, make a
good shew on't;—This shall end without the perdition
of souls; marry, I'll ride your horse as well as I
ride you.
[Aside.
Enter Fabian and Viola.
I have his horse to take up the quarrel; I have persuaded
him, the Youth's a Devil.
[To Fabian.
Fab.
He is as horribly conceited of him; and pants
and looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels.
Sir To.
There's no remedy, Sir, he will fight 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.
Vio.
Pray God defend me! a little thing would
make me tell them how much I lack of a man.
Fab.
Give ground, if you see him furious.
Sir To.
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 promis'd me, as he is a Gentleman and a Soldier,
he will not hurt you. Come on, to't.
[They draw.
Sir And.
Pray God, he keep his oath!
Enter Antonio.
Vio.
I do assure you, 'tis against my will.
Ant.
Put up your sword; if this young Gentleman
Have done offence, I take the fault on me;
If you offend him, I for him defie you.
[Drawing.
Sir To.
You, Sir? Why, what are you?
Ant.
One, Sir, that for his love dares yet do more
Than you have heard him brag to you he will.
Sir To.
Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for you.
[Draws.
Enter Officers.
Fab.
O good Sir Toby, hold; here come the Officers.
-- 516 --
Sir To.
I'll be with you anon.
Vio.
Pray, Sir, put your sword up if you please.
[To Sir Andrew.
Sir And.
Marry, will I, Sir; and for that I promis'd
you, I'll be as good as my word. He will bear you
easily, and reins well.
1 Off.
This is the Man; do thy office.
2 Off.
Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit of Duke Orsino.
Ant.
You do mistake me, Sir.
1 Off.
No, Sir, no jot; I know your favour well;
Tho' now you have no sea-cap on your head.
Take him away; he knows, I know him well.
Ant.
I must obey. This comes with seeking you;
But there's no remedy. I shall answer it.
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 my self: you stand amaz'd,
But be of comfort.
2 Off.
Come, Sir, away.
Ant.
I must intreat of you some of that mony.
Vio.
What mony, Sir?
For the fair kindness you have shew'd me here,
And part being prompted by your present trouble,
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.
Ant.
Will you deny me now?
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.
Vio.
I know of none,
Nor know I you by voice, or any feature:
I hate ingratitude more in a Man,
Than lying, vainness, babling drunkenness,
Or any taint of vice, whose strong corruption
Inhabits our frail blood.
-- 517 --
Ant.
Oh, Heav'ns themselves!—
2 Off.
Come, Sir, I pray you, go.
Ant.
Let me speak a little. This Youth that you see here,
I snatcht one half out of the Jaws of Death;
Reliev'd him with such sanctity of love,
And to his Image, which, methought, did promise
Most venerable Worth, did I Devotion.
1 Off.
What's that to us? the time goes by; away.
Ant.
But oh, how vile an Idol proves this God!
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.
1 Off.
The Man grows mad, away with him:
Come, come, Sir.
Ant.
Lead me on.
[Exit Antonio with Officers.
Vio.
Methinks, his words do from such passion fly,
That he believes himself; so do not I:
Prove true, Imagination, oh, prove true,
That I, dear Brother, be now ta'en for you!
Sir To.
Come hither, Knight; come hither, Fabian;
we'll whisper o'er a couplet or two of most sage saws.
Vio.
He nam'd Sebastian; I my Brother know
Yet living in my glass; even such, and so
In favour was my Brother; and he went
Still in this fashion, colour, ornament;
For him I imitate: oh, if it prove,
Tempests are kind, and salt waves fresh in love.
[Exit.
Sir To.
A very dishonest paltry Boy, and more a
coward than a hare; his dishonesty appears in leaving
his Friend here in necessity, and denying him; and
for his cowardship, ask Fabian.
Fab.
A coward, a most devout coward, religious in it.
Sir And.
'Slid, I'll after him again, and beat him.
Sir To.
Do, cuff him soundly, but never draw thy sword.
Sir And.
An I do not,—
[Exit Sir Andrew.
Fab.
Come, let's see the event.
Sir To.
I dare lay any mony, 'twill be nothing yet.
[Exeunt.
-- 518 --
Lewis Theobald [1733], The works of Shakespeare: in seven volumes. Collated with the Oldest Copies, and Corrected; With notes, Explanatory and Critical; By Mr. Theobald (Printed for A. Bettesworth and C. Hitch [and] J. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S11201].
