mad than you are; make the trial of it in any constant question.1 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,— Sir To. My most exquisite sir Topas! Clo. Nay, I am for all waters.2 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 SCENE III.—Olivia's garden. Enter Sebastian. me word how thou findest him: I would we were Seb. This is the air; that is the glorious sun; 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 I and by to my chamber. [Exe. Sir Toby and Mar. Clo. Hey, Robin, jolly Robin, Tell me how thy lady does. Mal. Fool, Clo. My lady is unkind, perdy. Clo. Alas, why is she so? Mal. Fool, I say; This pearl she gave me, I do feel't, and sce't: Clo. She loves another-Who calls, ha? Mal. Good fool, as ever thou wilt deserve well at my hand, help me to a candle, and pen, and ink, and paper; as I am a gentleman, I will live to be thankful to thee for't. Clo. Master Malvolio! Clo. Alas, sir, how fell you beside 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, Take, and give back, affairs, and their despatch, 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, Into the chantry" 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 live at peace: he shall conceal it, Clo. Maintain no words with him, good fellow.-Whiles12 you are willing it shall come to note; Who, I, sir? not I, sir. God b'wi you, good sir What time we will our celebration keep Topas.-Marry, amen.-I will, sir, I will. According to my birth.-What do you say? Seb. I'll follow this good man, and Mal. Fool, fool, fool, I say, And, having sworn truth, ever will be true. Oli. Then lead the way, good father;-And heavens so shine, 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 go with you; paper; I tell thee, I am as well in my wits, as any That they may fairly note this act of mine! [Exe. 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 ACT V. to my lady; it shall advantage thee more than ever SCENE I.-The street before Olivia's house. 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 counterfeit ? (1) Regular conversation. (2) Any other gem as a topaz. (3) Senses. (4) Taken possession of. (5) Scolded, reprimanded. M Enter Clown and Fabian. Fab. Now, as thou lovest me, let me see his letter. (6) A buffoon character in the old plays, and father of the modern harlequin. (7) Account. (8) Reason. (9) Belief. (12) Until. Clo. Good master Fabian, grant me another re-I know not what 'twas, but distraction. quest. Fab. Any thing. Clo. Do not desire to see this letter. Duke. Notable pirate! thou salt-water thief! What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies, Whom thou, in terms so bloody, and so dear, Fab. That is, to give a dog, and, in recompense, Hast made thine enemies? desire my dog again. Enter Duke, Viola, and attendants. Clo. Truly, sir, the better for my foes, and the worse for my friends. Duke. Just the contrary; the better for thy friends. Clo. No, sir, the worse. Clo. 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. Clo. 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. Clo. But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I would you could make it another. Duke. O, you give me ill counsel. Clo. 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. Clo. Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play; and the old saying is, the third pays for all: the tripler, sir, is a good tripping measure; or the bells of St. 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. Clo. 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 bounty take a nap, I will awake it anon. [Exit Clown. Enter Antonio and Officers. Vio. Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me. from And this is he, that did the Tiger board, Ant. Did I expose myself, pure for his love, purse, Which I had recommended to his use (No interim, not a minute's vacancy,) Enter Olivia and attendants. Duke. Here comes the countess; now heaven Oli. What would my lord, but that he may not Duke. Gracious Olivia,- Oli. What do you say, Cesario?--Good my Vio. My lord would speak, my duty hushes me. Duke. Still so cruel? Oh. Still so constant, lord. Duke. What! to perverseness? you uncivil lady, Oli. Even what it please my lord, that shall be come him. Duke. Why should I not, had I the heart to do it, (3) Dull, gross. Oli. Where goes Cesario? Oli. Ah, me, detested! how am I beguil'd! Duke. Oli. Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long?- Ay, husband; Can he that deny? No, my lord, not I. Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence, Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings; Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave, I have travelled but two hours. Duke. O, thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be, broke. Sir And. For the love of God, a surgeon; send one presently to sir Toby. Oli. What's the matter? Sir And. He has broke my head across, and has given sir Toby a bloody coxcomb too: for the love of God, your help: I had rather than forty pound, I were at home. Oli. Who has done this, sir Andrew? Sir And. The count's gentleman, one Cesario: we took him for a coward, but he's the very devil incardinate. Duke. My gentleman, Cesario? (1) Disown thy property. (2) Skin. Enter Sir Toby Belch, drunk, led by the Clown. Here comes sir Toby halting, you shall hear more: but if he had not been in drink, he would have tickled you othergates than he did. Duke. How now, gentleman? how is't with you? Sir To. That's all one; he has hurt me, and there's the end on't.-Sot, did'st see Dick surgeon, sot? Clo. O he's drunk, sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyes were set at eight i' the morning. Sir To. Then he's a rogue. After a passy-measure, or a pavin, I hate a drunken rogue. Oli. Away with him: who hath made this havoc with them? Sir And. I'll help you, sir Toby, because we'll be dressed together. Sir To. Will you help, an ass-head, and a coxcomb, and a knave? a thin-faced knave, a gull? Oli. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to. [Exeunt Clown, Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew. Enter Sebastian. Seb. I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kins man; But, had it been the brother of my blood, Duke. One face, one voice, one habit, and two A natural perspective, that is, and is not. Ant. Sebastian are you? 5 Seb. Do I stand there? I never had a brother: A spirit I am indeed; I (5) Out of charity tell me. Vio. And died that day when Viola from her birth with the which I doubt not but to do myself much Had number'd thirteen years. Seb. O, that record is lively in my soul! He finished, indeed, his mortal act, Vio. If nothing lets to make us happy both, But nature to her bias drew in that. right, or you much shame. Think of me as you please. I leave my duty a little unthought of, and speak out of my injury. The madly-used Malvolio. Oli. Did he write this? Duke. This savours not much of distraction. Oli. See him deliver'd, Fabian; bring him hither. [Exit Fabian. My lord, so please you, these things further thought on, To think me as well a sister as a wife, Duke. Madam, I am most apt to embrace your Your master quits you; [To Viola.] and, for your So much against the mettle of your sex, Duke. Be not amaz'd; right noble is his blood.-And since you call'd me master for so long, If this be so, as yet the glass seems true, [To Viola. Thou never should'st love woman like to me. Duke. Give me thy hand; And yet, alas, now I remember me, Re-enter Clown, with a letter. A most extracting frenzy of mine own Clo. Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the stave's end, as well as a man in his case may do: he has here writ a letter to you; I should have given it to you to-day morning; but as a madman's epistles are no gospels, so it skills not much, when they are delivered. Oli. Open it, and read it. Clo. Look then to be well edified, when the fool delivers the madman:-By the Lord, madam,— Oli. How now! art thou mad? Clo. No, madam, I do but read madness: your ladyship will have it as it ought to be, must allow vox.2 an you Oli. Pr'ythee, read i' thy right wits. Clo. So I do, madonna; but to read his right wits, is to read thus: therefore perpend, my princess, and give ear. Oli. Read it you, sirrah. Here is my hand; you shall from this time be Oli. A sister?-you are she. Mal. Oli. Have I, Malvolio? no. You must not now deny it is your hand, 6 Oli. Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing, Good madam, hear me speak; And let no quarrel, nor no brawl to come, Taint the condition of this present hour, [To Fabian. Which I have wonder'd at. In hope it shalt not, Fab. [reads. By the Lord, madam, you wrong Most freely I confess, myself, and Toby, me, and the world shall know it: though you have Set this device against Malvolio here, put me into darkness, and given your drunken Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my We had conceiv'd against him: Maria writ senses as well as your ladyship. I have your own The letter, at sir Toby's great importance;" letter that induced me to the semblance I put on; In recompence whereof, he hath married her. How with a sportful malice it was follow'd, (1) Hinders. (2) Voice. (4) Frame and constitution. (3) Attend. (5) Inferior. (6) Fool. (7) Importunacy. May rather pluck on laughter than revenge; Oli. Alas, poor fool! how have they baffled1 thee! Clo. Why, some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrown upon them. I was one, sir, in this interlude; one sir Topas, sir; but that's all one :-By the Lord, fool, I am not mad;-But do you remember? Madam, why lough you at such a barren rascal? an you smile not, he's gagg'd: And thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges. Mal. I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you. Of our dear souls-Meantime, sweet sister, But when I came to man's estate, With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, 'Gainst knave and thief men shut their gate, For the rain it raineth every day. But when I came, alas! to wire, A great while ago the world begun, This play is in the graver part elegant and easy, and in some of the lighter scenes exquisitely humorous. Ague-cheek is drawn with great propriety, but his character is, in a great measure, that of natural fatuity, and is therefore not the proper prey of a satirist. The soliloquy of Malvolio is truly comic; he is betrayed to ridicule merely by his pride. The marriage of Olivia, and the succeeding perplexity, though well enough contrived to divert on the stage, wants credibility, and fails to produce the proper instruction required in the dra ma, as it exhibits no just picture of life. JOHNSON. |