not deliver’t?
SIR TOBY BELCH Never trust me, then; and by all means stir on the
youth to an answer. I think oxen and wainropes
cannot hale them together. For Andrew, if he were
opened, and you find so much blood in his liver as
will clog the foot of a flea, I’ll eat the rest of
the anatomy.
FABIAN And his opposite, the youth, bears in his visage no
great presage of cruelty.
Enter MARIA
SIR TOBY BELCH Look, where the youngest wren of nine comes.
MARIA If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourself
into stitches, follow me. Yond gull Malvolio is
turned heathen, a very renegado; for there is no
Christian, that means to be saved by believing
rightly, can ever believe such impossible passages
of grossness. He’s in yellow stockings.
SIR TOBY BELCH And cross-gartered?
MARIA Most villanously; like a pedant that keeps a school
i’ the church. I have dogged him, like his
murderer. He does obey every point of the letter
that I dropped to betray him: he does smile his
face into more lines than is in the new map with the
augmentation of the Indies: you have not seen such
a thing as ’tis. I can hardly forbear hurling things
at him. I know my lady will strike him: if she do,
he’ll smile and take’t for a great favour.
SIR TOBY BELCH Come, bring us, bring us where he is.
Exeunt
Scene 3
A street.
Enter SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO
SEBASTIAN I would not by my will have troubled you;
But, since you make your pleasure of your pains,
I will no further chide you.
ANTONIO I could not stay behind you: my desire,
More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth;
And not all love to see you, though so much
As might have drawn one to a longer voyage,
But jealousy what might befall your travel,
Being skilless in these parts; which to a stranger,
Unguided and unfriended, often prove
Rough and unhospitable: my willing love,
The rather by these arguments of fear,
Set forth in your pursuit.
SEBASTIAN My kind Antonio,
I can no other answer make but thanks,
And thanks; and ever . . . . . . oft good turns
Are shuffled off with such uncurrent pay:
But, were my worth as is my conscience firm,
You should find better dealing. What’s to do?
Shall we go see the reliques of this town?
ANTONIO To-morrow, sir: best first go see your lodging.
SEBASTIAN I am not weary, and ’tis long to night:
I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes
With the memorials and the things of fame
That do renown this city.
ANTONIO Would you’ld pardon me;
I do not without danger walk these streets:
Once, in a sea-fight, ‘gainst the count his galleys
I did some service; of such note indeed,
That were I ta’en here it would scarce be answer’d.
SEBASTIAN Belike you slew great number of his people.
ANTONIO The offence is not of such a bloody nature;
Albeit the quality of the time and quarrel
Might well have given us bloody argument.
It might have since been answer’d in repaying
What we took from them; which, for traffic’s sake,
Most of our city did: only myself stood out;
For which, if I be lapsed in this place,
I shall pay dear.
SEBASTIAN Do not then walk too open.
ANTONIO It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here’s my purse.
In the south suburbs, at the Elephant,
Is best to lodge: I will bespeak our diet,
Whiles you beguile the time and feed your knowledge
With viewing of the town: there shall you have me.
SEBASTIAN Why I your purse?
ANTONIO Haply your eye shall light upon some toy
You have desire to purchase; and your store,
I think, is not for idle markets, sir.
SEBASTIAN I’ll be your purse-bearer and leave you
For an hour.
ANTONIO To the Elephant.
SEBASTIAN I do remember.
Exeunt
Scene 4
OLIVIA’s garden.
Enter OLIVIA and MARIA
OLIVIA I have sent after him: he says he’ll come;
How shall I feast him? what bestow of 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?
MARIA He’s coming, madam; but in very strange manner. He
is, sure, possessed, madam.
OLIVIA Why, what’s the matter? does he rave?
MARIA 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.
OLIVIA Go call him hither.
Exit MARIA
I am as mad as he,
If sad and merry madness equal be.
Re-enter MARIA, with MALVOLIO
How now, Malvolio!
MALVOLIO Sweet lady, ho, ho.
OLIVIA Smilest thou?
I sent for thee upon a sad occasion.
MALVOLIO 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.’
OLIVIA Why, how dost thou, man? what is the matter with thee?
MALVOLIO Not black in my mind, though yellow in my legs. It
did come to his hands, and commands shall be
executed: I think we do know the sweet Roman hand.
OLIVIA Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio?
MALVOLIO To bed! ay, sweet-heart, and I’ll come to thee.
OLIVIA God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so and kiss
thy hand so oft?
MARIA How do you, Malvolio?
MALVOLIO At your request! yes; nightingales answer daws.
MARIA Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady?
MALVOLIO ‘Be not afraid of greatness:’ ’twas well writ.
OLIVIA What meanest thou by that, Malvolio?
MALVOLIO ‘Some are born great,’–
OLIVIA Ha!
MALVOLIO ‘Some achieve greatness,’–
OLIVIA What sayest thou?
MALVOLIO ‘And some have greatness thrust upon them.’
OLIVIA Heaven restore thee!
MALVOLIO ‘Remember who commended thy yellow stockings,’–
OLIVIA Thy yellow stockings!
MALVOLIO ‘And wished to see thee cross-gartered.’
OLIVIA Cross-gartered!
MALVOLIO ‘Go to thou art made, if thou desirest to be so;’–
OLIVIA Am I made?
MALVOLIO ‘If not, let me see thee a servant still.’
OLIVIA Why, this is very midsummer madness.
Enter Servant
Servant Madam, the young gentleman of the Count Orsino’s is
returned: I could hardly entreat him back: he
attends your ladyship’s pleasure.
OLIVIA I’ll come to him.
Exit Servant
Good Maria, let this fellow be looked to. Where’s
my cousin Toby? Let some of my people have a special
care of him: I would not have him miscarry for the
half of my dowry.
Exeunt OLIVIA and MARIA
MALVOLIO O, 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
thyself 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
limed her; but it is Jove’s doing, and Jove make me
thankful! And when she went away now, ‘Let this
fellow be looked 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.
Re-enter MARIA, with SIR TOBY BELCH and FABIAN
SIR TOBY BELCH Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all
the devils of hell be drawn in little, and Legion
himself possessed him, yet I’ll speak to him.
FABIAN Here he is, here he is. How is’t with you, sir?
how is’t with you, man?
MALVOLIO Go off; I discard you: let me enjoy my private: go
off.
MARIA 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.
MALVOLIO Ah, ha! does she so?
SIR TOBY BELCH 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! defy the devil:
consider, he’s an enemy to mankind.
MALVOLIO Do you know what you say?
MARIA La you, an you speak ill of the devil, how he takes
it at heart! Pray God, he be not bewitched!
FABIAN Carry his water to the wise woman.
MARIA Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning, if I