Sir To. Thou killest me like a rogue and a villain. Fab. Still you keep o' the windy side of the law: Good. but Sir To. Fare thee well; And God have mercy apon one of our souls! He may have mercy upon mine; my hope is better, and so look to thyself. 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. 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 drawest, swear horrible; for it comes to pass oft, that a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent sharply twanged off, gives manhood more approbation than ever proof itself would have earned 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 niece confirms no less; therefore this letter, being so excellently ignorant, will breed no terror in the youth, he will find it comes from a clodpole. 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 niece: 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 Sir Toby, Fabian, and Maria. Oli. I have said too much unto a heart of stone, And laid mine honour too unchary out: fault; 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. Re-enter Sir TOBY BELCH, and FABIAN. 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, dubbed with unhacked rapier, and on carpet consideration; but he is a devil in private brawl: souls and bodies hath he divorced three; and his incensement at this moment is so implacable, that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death and sepulchre: 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. Sir, no; his indignation derives itself out of a very competent injury; therefore, get you on, 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 be seech 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 incensed 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 would rather go with sir priest, than sir knight: I care not who knows so much of my mettle. [Exeunt. Re-enter Sir TOBY with 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. Sir And. Plague on't; an I thought he had been valiant, and so cunning in fence, I'd have seen him damned ere I'd have challenged 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 show on't; this shall end without the perdition of souls: Marry, I'll ride your horse as well as I ride you. [Aside. Re-enter FABIAN and VIOLA. I have his horse [to Fab.] to take up the quarrel; I have persuaded him the youth's a devil. 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 his 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 Fab. O good sir Toby, hold; here come the officers. Sir To. I'll be with you anon. [To Antonio. Vio. Pray, sir, put up your sword, if you please. [To Sir Andrew. Sir And. Marry, will I, sir;-and, for that I promised 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 count Orsino. Ant. You do mistake me, sir. 1 Off. No, sir, no jot; I know your favour well, Though 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. me Much more, for what I cannot do for you, Than what befalls myself. You stand amaz'd; But be of comfort. 2 Off. Come, sir, away. Ant. I must entreat of you some of that money. Vio. What money, sir? For the fair kindness you have show'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 is 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 Vio. I know of none; Nor know I you by voice, or any feature: Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, Ant. O heavens themselves! 2 Off. Come, sir, I pray you, go. Ant. Let me speak a little. This youth, that you see here, I snatch'd one half out of the jaws of death; And to his image, which, methought, did pro Vio. Methinks, his words do from such passion fly, That he believes himself; so do not I. 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: O, 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. [Exit. Sir And. An I do not,Fab. Come, let's see the event. Sir To. I dare lay any money, 'twill be nothing yet. [Exeunt. ACT IV. SCENE I.-The street before Olivia's house. Enter SEBASTIAN and Clown. Clo. 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 master Cesario; nor this is not my nose neither.-Nothing, that is so, is so. Seb. I pr'ythee, 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 am afraid this great lubber, the world, will prove a cockney.-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 Greek, depart from 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: Rudesby, be gone!—I pr'ythee, gentle friend, [Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian. Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway In this uncivil and unjust extent Against thy peace. Go with me to my house; Seb. What relish is in this? how runs the stream? Or I am mad, or else this is a dream: Seb. Madam, I will. [Exeunt. SCENE II.A room in 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. I am not fat 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 BELCH and MARIA. Sir To. Jove bless thee, master 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 Gorboduc, That, that is, is: So I, being master parson, am master 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! Sir To. The knave counterfeits well; a good knave. Mal. [in an inner chamber.] Who calls there? Clo. Sir Topas, the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio, the lunatic. 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 wronged: good sir Topas, do not think I am mad; they have laid me here in hideous darkness. Clo. Fye, thou dishonest Sathan! I call thee by the most modest terms; for I am one of those gentle ones, that will use the devil himself with courtesy: Say'st thou, that house is dark? Mal. As hell, sir Topas. Clo. Why, it hath bay-windows transparent as barricadoes, and the clear stones towards the south-north are as lustrous as ebony; and yet complainest thou of obstruction! Mal. I am not mad, sir Topas; I say to you, this house is dark. Clo. Madman, 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 abused: I am no more mad than you are; make the trial of it in any constant question. Clo. What is the opinion of Pythagoras, concerning wild-fowl? Mal. That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird. Clo. What thinkest 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 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. Mal. Sir Topas, sir Topas,- 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 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. Clo. Hey Robin, jolly Robin, Tell me how thy lady does. [Singing. Clo. Master Malvolio! Mal. Ay, good fool. Clo. Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits? Mal. Fool, there was never man so notoriously abused: I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art. Clo. But as well? then you are mad, indeed, if you be no better in your wits than a fool. Mal. 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. Clo. 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. Mal. Sir Topas, Clo. Maintain no words with him, good fellow.-Who, I, sir? not I, sir. God b'wi'you, good sir Topas.-Marry, amen.-I will, sir, I will. Mal. Fool, fool, fool, I say,— Clo. Alas, sir, be patient. What say you, sir? I am shent for speaking to you. Mal. 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. Clo. Well-a-day, that you were, sir! Mal. 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. Clo. I will help you to't. But tell me true, are you not mad indeed? or do you but coun terfeit ? 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: 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 despatch, With such a smooth, discreet, and stable bearing, As, I perceive, she does: there's something in't, That is deceivable. But here comes the lady. Enter OLIVIA and a Priest. Oli. Blame not this haste of mine: If you mean well, Now go with me, and with this holy man, Seb. I'll follow this good man, and go with you; That they may fairly note this act of mine! [Exeunt. 1835458 |