Oli.
I have sent after him; he says he'll 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.

Oli.

Smil'st thou? I sent for thee upon a sad occasion.

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 desir'st to be so—

Oli.

Am I made?

Mal.

If not, let me see thee a servant still.

Ol.

Why this is very midsummer madness.

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.