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Vio. I pray you, sir, what is he?
Sir To. He is knight, dubbed with unhatch'd 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 beseech 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 firago. 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' 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.-[Aside.]-Marry, I'll ride your horse as well as I ride you.
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;—[To Sir TOBY.]-and pants, and looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels.
Sir To. There's no remedy, sir:-[TO VIOLA.]he will fight with you for's 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. [Aside.] Pray God defend me! A little thing would make me tell them how much I lack of a man.
Fab. Give ground, if you see him furious. Sir To. Come, sir Andrew, there's no remedy: the gentleman will, for his honour's sake, have one bout with you: he cannot by the duello avoid it: but he has promised me, as he is a gentleman and a soldier, he will not hurt you. Come on; to't.
Sir And. Pray God, he keep his oath! [Draws. Vio. I do assure you, 'tis against my will.
Ant. Lead me on.
[Exeunt Officers, with ANTONIO. 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.
I'll make division of my present with you. Hold, there's half my coffer.
Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness,
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 promise Most venerable worth, did I devotion.
1 Off. What's that to us? The time goes by: away!
Ant. But, O, how vile an idol proves this god!Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame. In nature there's no blemish, but the mind; None can be call'd deform'd, but the unkind : Virtue is beauty; but the beauteous evil Are empty trunks, o'erflourish'd by the devil. 1 Off. The man grows mad: away with him! Come, come, sir.
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.
Sir And. An I do not,
Fab. Come, let's see the event.
Sir To. I dare lay any money 'twill be nothing
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 me. There's money for thee: if you tarry longer, I shall give worse payment.
Clo. 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. Sir 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. Sir To. Hold, sir, or I'll throw your dagger o'er the house.
Clo. This will I tell my lady straight. I would not be in some of your coats for two-pence. [Exit Clown.
Sir To. Come on, sir: hold!
[Holding SEBASTIAN. Sir And. Nay, let him alone; I'll go another way to work with him: I'll have an action of battery against him, if there be any law in Illyria. Though I struck him first, yet it's no matter for that.
Seb. Let go thy hand.
Sir To. Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier, put up your iron: you are well fleshed. Come on.
Seb. I will be free from thee. What would'st thou now?
If thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword.
Sir To. What, what! Nay then, I must have an ounce or two of this malapert blood from you.
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. Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway In this uncivil, and unjust extent Against thy peace. Go with me to my house; And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks This ruffian hath botch'd up, that thou thereby May'st smile at this. Thou shalt not choose but go:
Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me,
Seb. What relish is in this? how runs the stream!
Oli. Nay, come, I pr'ythee. Would thou'dst be rul'd by me!
Seb. Madam, I will.
O! say so, and so be. [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 tall 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 TOEY BELCH, and MARIA. Sir To. Jove bless thee, master parson.
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. Fie, 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.
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. Why, it hath bay-windows transparent as barricadoes, and the clear stories towards the south-by 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?
Clo. Fare thee well: remain thou still in darkThou 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.
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 to my chamber.
[Exeunt Sir TOBY and MARIA. Clo. "Hey Robin, jolly Robin,
Tell me how thy lady does."
Clo. "My lady is unkind, perdy."
Clo. "Alas, why is she so?"
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, ink, and paper. As I am a gentleman, I will live to be thankful to thee for't.
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 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.
I am gone, sir, And anon, sir,
I'll be with you again, In a trice,
SCENE III.-OLIVIA'S Garden.
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 the lady comes.
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, And, having sworn truth, ever will be true.
Oli. Then lead the way, good father; and heavens so shine,
That they may fairly note this act of mine! [Exeunt.