10f. The man grows mad; away with him. Come, come, sir. Ant. Lead me on. [Exeunt Officers with ANTONIO. Fia. Methinks, his words do from such passion fly, That he believes himself; so do not I. Ser To. Come hither, knight; come hither, Fabian; ACT IV. SCENE I.-The Street before Olivia's House. Enter SEBASTIAN and Clown. C. 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. Cla. 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 coining? Sb. I pr'ythee, foolish Greek, depart from me; There's money for thee; if you tarry longer, I shall give worse payment. Ch. By my troth, thou hast an open hand: These wise men, that give fools money, get themselves a good report after fourteen years' purchase. Enter Sir ANDREW, Sir TOBY, and FABIAN. Sar And. Now, sir, have I met you again? there's for you. [Striking SEBASTIAN. Seb. Why, there's for thee, and there, and there : Are all the people mad? [Beating Sir ANDREW. Sr To. Hold, sir, or I'll throw your dagger o'er the house. Cla. This will I tell my lady straight: I would not be in some of your coats for two-pence. [Exit Clown. If thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword. [Draws. Sir To. What, what? Nay, then I must have an ounce or two of this malapert blood from you. [Draws. Enter OLIVIA. Oli. Hold, Toby; on thy life, I charge thee, hold. Sir To. Madam? 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 ! —— [Exeunt Sir TOBY, Sir ANDREW, and FABIAN. Seb. What relish is in this? how runs the stream? Or I am mad, or else this is a dream: Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep; If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep! Oli. Nay, come, I pr'ythee: 'Would thou'dst be rul'd by me? Seb. Madam, I will. Oli. O, say so, and so be! 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. G Mal. [in an inner chamber.] Who calls there? Clo. Sir Topas, the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio the lunatick. 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 stories towards the southnorth 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 your 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, Sir To. My most exquisite 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. that you were, sir! Clo. Well-a-day, 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, ate you not mad indeed? or do you but counterfeit? Mal. Believe me, I am not; I tell thee true. Clo. Nay, I'll ne'er believe a madman, till I see his brains. I will fetch you light, and paper, and ink. Mal. Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree: I pr'ythee, be gone. That this may be some error, but no madness, And wrangle with my reason, that persuades me She could not sway her house, command her followers, Uk. Blame not this haste of mine: If you mean well, Now go with me, and with this holy man, That they may fairly note this act of mine! ACT V. SCENE I. — The Street before Olivia's House. Enter Clown and FABIAN. Fab. Now, as thou lovest me, let me see his letter. Cia. Good master Fabian, grant me another request. Fab. Any thing. Cla. Do not desire to see this letter. Fab. That is, to give a dog, and, in recompense, desére my dog again. Enter DUKE, VIOLA, and Attendants. Duke. Belong you to the lady Olivia, friends? Cla. Ay, sir; we are some of her trappings. Duke. I know thee well; How dost thou, my good fellow? Cla. Truly, sir, the better for my foes, and the worse for my friends. Duke. Just the contrary; the better for thy friends. Ca. 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. Cas. By my troth, sir, no; though it please you to be one of my friends. Duke. Thou shalt not be the worse for me; bere's gold. C. But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I would you could make it another. Duke. O, you give me ill counsel. C. Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this ce, 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. Cla. Prima, secundo, tertio, is a good play; and the old saying is, the third pays for all: the tripler, r, 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. C. 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. Duke. That face of his I do remember well; Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmear'd As black as Vulcan, in the smoke of war: A bawbling vessel was he captain of, For shallow draught, and bulk, unprizable; With which such scathful grapple did he make With the most noble bottom of our fleet, That very envy, and the tongue of loss, Cry'd fame and honour on him. What's the matter? 1 Off. Orsino, this is that Antonio, That took the Phoenix, and her fraught, from Candy; And this is he, that did the Tiger board, When your young nephew Titus lost his leg: Here in the streets, desperate of shame, and state, In private brabble did we apprehend him. Vio. He did me kindness, sir; drew on my side; But, in conclusion, put strange speech upon me, I know not what 'twas, but distraction. Duke. Notable pirate! thou salt-water thief! What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies, Whom thou, in terms so bloody, and so dear, Hast made thine enemies? Ant. Orsino, noble sir, Be pleas'd that I shake off these names you give me; Antonio never yet was thief, or pirate, Though, I confess, on base and ground enough, Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither: That most ingrateful boy there, by your side, From the rude sea's enrag'd and foamy mouth Did I redeem; a wreck past hope he was: His life I gave him, and did thereto add My love, without retention, or restraint, All his in dedication: for his sake, Did I expose myself, pure for his love, Into the danger of this adverse town; Drew to defend him, when he was beset; Where being apprehended, his false cunning, (Not meaning to partake with me in danger,) Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance, And grew a twenty-years-removed thing, While one would wink; denied me mine own purse, G 2 Which I had recommended to his use Not half an hour before. Vio. How can this be? Duke. When came he to this town? No, my lord, not I. Vio. Oli. Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear, That makes thee strangle thy propriety: Fear not Cesario, take thy fortunes up; Ant. To-day, my lord; and for three months Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art Duke. Why should I not, had I the heart to do it, That screws me from my true place in your favour, As great as that thou fear'st. O, welcome, father! Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence, Priest. A contract of eternal bond of love, Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings; Seal'd in my function, by my testimony: 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, 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? Sir And. Od's lifelings, here he is : - You broke Come boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mis- my head for nothing; and that that I did, I was chief: set on to do't by sir Toby. Vio. Why do you speak to me? I never hur you : You drew your sword upon me, without cause; But I bespake you fair, and hurt you not. Sir And. If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me; I think, you set nothing by a blood coxcomb. 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 hav tickled you othergates than he did. Duke. How now, gentleman? how is't wit 05. Away with him: Who hath made this harock with them? Sir And. I'll help you, sir Toby, because we'll be dressed together. Sir Te. Will you help an ass-head, and a coxcomb, and a knave? a thin-faced knave, a gull? 05. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to. [Exeunt Clown, Sir Tosy, 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 persons; A natural perspective, that is, and is not. Seb. Antonio, O my dear Antonio! How have the hours rack'd and tortur'd me, Ant. Sebastian are you? Fear'st thou that, Antonio? Ant. How have you made division of yourself?— An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian? 06. Most wonderful! Seb. Do I stand there? I never had a brother: Nor can there be that deity in my nature, Of here and every where. I had a sister, Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd: Of charity, what kin are you to me? [TO VIOLA. What countryman? what name? what parentage? Via Of Messaline: Sebastian was my father; Such a Sebastian was my brother too, So went he suited to his watery tomb : If spirits can assume both form and suit You come to fright us. A spirit I am, indeed: F. And died that day when Viola from her birth Had number'd thirteen years. Seb. O, that record is lively in my soul! I'll bring you to a captain in this town, [TO VIOLA. Thou never should'st love woman like to me. Duke. Vio. The captain, that did bring me first on shore, Hath my maid's garments: he upon some action, Is now in durance; at Malvolio's suit, A gentleman, and follower of my lady's. Oli. He shall enlarge him:- Fetch Malvolio hither: And yet, alas, now I remember me, 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 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: an your ladyship will have it as it ought to be, you must allow vor. 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. [TO FABIAN. Fab. [reads.] By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and the world shall know it: though you have put me into darkness, and given your drunken cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my senses as well as your ladyship. I have your own letter that induced me to the semblance I put on; with the which I doubt not but to do myself much 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? Clo. Ay, madam. Duke. This savours not much of distraction. Oli. See him delivered, Fabian; bring him hither. [Exit FABIAN. My lord, so please you, these things further thought on, Where lie my maiden weeds; by whose gentle help To think me as well a sister as a wife, I was preserv'd, to serve this noble count; But nature to her bias drew in that. One day shall crown the alliance on't, so please you, Here at my house, and at my proper cost. Duke. Madam, I am most apt to embrace your offer. Your master quits you; [To VIOLA.] and, for your service done him, So much against the mettle of your sex, |