Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare

Act 3 - Scene 4

OLIVIA’s garden.

Olivia : I have sent after him: he says he'll come; [p]How shall I feast him?
what bestow of him? [p]For youth is bought more oft than begg'd or
borrow'd. [p]I speak too loud. [p]Where is Malvolio? he is sad and
civil, [p]And suits well for a servant with my fortunes: [p]Where is
Malvolio?

Maria : He's coming, madam; but in very strange manner. He [p]is, sure,
possessed, madam.

Olivia : Why, what's the matter? does he rave?

Maria : No. madam, he does nothing but smile: your [p]ladyship were best to
have some guard about you, if [p]he come; for, sure, the man is
tainted in's wits.

Olivia : Go call him hither. [p][Exit MARIA] [p]I am as mad as he, [p]If sad
and merry madness equal be. [p][Re-enter MARIA, with MALVOLIO] [p]How
now, Malvolio!

Malvolio : Sweet lady, ho, ho.

Olivia : Smilest thou? [p]I sent for thee upon a sad occasion.

Malvolio : Sad, lady! I could be sad: this does make some [p]obstruction in the
blood, this cross-gartering; but [p]what of that? if it please the eye
of one, it is [p]with me as the very true sonnet is, 'Please one,
and [p]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 [p]did come to his
hands, and commands shall be [p]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 [p]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.

Servant : Madam, the young gentleman of the Count Orsino's is [p]returned: I
could hardly entreat him back: he [p]attends your ladyship's
pleasure.

Olivia : I'll come to him. [p][Exit Servant] [p]Good Maria, let this fellow be
looked to. Where's [p]my cousin Toby? Let some of my people have a
special [p]care of him: I would not have him miscarry for the [p]half
of my dowry.

Malvolio : O, ho! do you come near me now? no worse man than [p]Sir Toby to look
to me! This concurs directly with [p]the letter: she sends him on
purpose, that I may [p]appear stubborn to him; for she incites me to
that [p]in the letter. 'Cast thy humble slough,' says she; [p]'be
opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants; [p]let thy tongue tang
with arguments of state; put [p]thyself into the trick of
singularity;' and [p]consequently sets down the manner how; as, a
sad [p]face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in the [p]habit of
some sir of note, and so forth. I have [p]limed her; but it is Jove's
doing, and Jove make me [p]thankful! And when she went away now, 'Let
this [p]fellow be looked to:' fellow! not Malvolio, nor [p]after my
degree, but fellow. Why, every thing [p]adheres together, that no dram
of a scruple, no [p]scruple of a scruple, no obstacle, no
incredulous [p]or unsafe circumstance--What can be said?
Nothing [p]that can be can come between me and the full [p]prospect of
my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the [p]doer of this, and he is to be
thanked.

Sir Toby Belch : Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all [p]the devils of hell
be drawn in little, and Legion [p]himself possessed him, yet I'll
speak to him.

Fabian : Here he is, here he is. How is't with you, sir? [p]how is't with you,
man?

Malvolio : Go off; I discard you: let me enjoy my private: go [p]off.

Maria : Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did not [p]I tell you? Sir
Toby, my lady prays you to have a [p]care of him.

Malvolio : Ah, ha! does she so?

Sir Toby Belch : Go to, go to; peace, peace; we must deal gently [p]with him: let me
alone. How do you, Malvolio? how [p]is't with you? What, man! defy the
devil: [p]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 [p]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 [p]live. My lady
would not lose him for more than I'll say.

Malvolio : How now, mistress!

Maria : O Lord!

Sir Toby Belch : Prithee, hold thy peace; this is not the way: do [p]you not see you
move him? let me alone with him.

Fabian : No way but gentleness; gently, gently: the fiend is [p]rough, and will
not be roughly used.

Sir Toby Belch : Why, how now, my bawcock! how dost thou, chuck?

Malvolio : Sir!

Sir Toby Belch : Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, man! 'tis not for [p]gravity to play at
cherry-pit with Satan: hang [p]him, foul collier!

Maria : Get him to say his prayers, good Sir Toby, get him to pray.

Malvolio : My prayers, minx!

Maria : No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godliness.

Malvolio : Go, hang yourselves all! you are idle shallow [p]things: I am not of
your element: you shall know [p]more hereafter.

Sir Toby Belch : Is't possible?

Fabian : If this were played upon a stage now, I could [p]condemn it as an
improbable fiction.

Sir Toby Belch : His very genius hath taken the infection of the device, man.

Maria : Nay, pursue him now, lest the device take air and taint.

Fabian : Why, we shall make him mad indeed.

Maria : The house will be the quieter.

Sir Toby Belch : Come, we'll have him in a dark room and bound. My [p]niece is already
in the belief that he's mad: we [p]may carry it thus, for our pleasure
and his penance, [p]till our very pastime, tired out of breath,
prompt [p]us to have mercy on him: at which time we will [p]bring the
device to the bar and crown thee for a [p]finder of madmen. But see,
but see.

Fabian : More matter for a May morning.

Sir Andrew Aguecheek : Here's the challenge, read it: warrant there's [p]vinegar and pepper
in't.

Fabian : Is't so saucy?

Sir Andrew Aguecheek : Ay, is't, I warrant him: do but read.

Sir Toby Belch : Give me. [p][Reads] [p]'Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art but a
scurvy fellow.'

Fabian : Good, and valiant.

Sir Toby Belch : [Reads] 'Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind, [p]why I do call thee
so, for I will show thee no reason for't.'

Fabian : A good note; that keeps you from the blow of the law.

Sir Toby Belch : [Reads] 'Thou comest to the lady Olivia, and in my [p]sight she uses
thee kindly: but thou liest in thy [p]throat; that is not the matter I
challenge thee for.'

Fabian : Very brief, and to exceeding good sense--less.

Sir Toby Belch : [Reads] 'I will waylay thee going home; where if it [p]be thy chance
to kill me,'--

Fabian : Good.

Sir Toby Belch : [Reads] 'Thou killest me like a rogue and a villain.'

Fabian : Still you keep o' the windy side of the law: good.

Sir Toby Belch : [Reads] 'Fare thee well; and God have mercy upon [p]one of our souls!
He may have mercy upon mine; but [p]my hope is better, and so look to
thyself. Thy [p]friend, as thou usest him, and thy sworn
enemy, [p]ANDREW AGUECHEEK. [p]If this letter move him not, his legs
cannot: [p]I'll give't him.

Maria : You may have very fit occasion for't: he is now in [p]some commerce
with my lady, and will by and by depart.

Sir Toby Belch : Go, Sir Andrew: scout me for him at the corner the [p]orchard like a
bum-baily: so soon as ever thou seest [p]him, draw; and, as thou
drawest swear horrible; for [p]it comes to pass oft that a terrible
oath, with a [p]swaggering accent sharply twanged off, gives
manhood [p]more approbation than ever proof itself would
have [p]earned him. Away!

Sir Andrew Aguecheek : Nay, let me alone for swearing.

Sir Toby Belch : Now will not I deliver his letter: for the behavior [p]of the young
gentleman gives him out to be of good [p]capacity and breeding; his
employment between his [p]lord and my niece confirms no less:
therefore this [p]letter, being so excellently ignorant, will breed
no [p]terror in the youth: he will find it comes from a [p]clodpole.
But, sir, I will deliver his challenge by [p]word of mouth; set upon
Aguecheek a notable report [p]of valour; and drive the gentleman, as I
know his [p]youth will aptly receive it, into a most
hideous [p]opinion of his rage, skill, fury and impetuosity. [p]This
will so fright them both that they will kill [p]one another by the
look, like cockatrices.

Fabian : Here he comes with your niece: give them way till [p]he take leave,
and presently after him.

Sir Toby Belch : I will meditate the while upon some horrid message [p]for a
challenge.

Olivia : I have said too much unto a heart of stone [p]And laid mine honour too
unchary out: [p]There's something in me that reproves my fault; [p]But
such a headstrong potent fault it is, [p]That it but mocks reproof.

Viola : With the same 'havior that your passion bears [p]Goes on my master's
grief.

Olivia : Here, wear this jewel for me, 'tis my picture; [p]Refuse it not; it
hath no tongue to vex you; [p]And I beseech you come again
to-morrow. [p]What shall you ask of me that I'll deny, [p]That honour
saved may upon asking give?

Viola : Nothing but this; your true love for my master.

Olivia : How with mine honour may I give him that [p]Which I have given to
you?

Viola : I will acquit you.

Olivia : Well, come again to-morrow: fare thee well: [p]A fiend like thee might
bear my soul to hell.

Sir Toby Belch : Gentleman, God save thee.

Viola : And you, sir.

Sir Toby Belch : That defence thou hast, betake thee to't: of what [p]nature the wrongs
are thou hast done him, I know [p]not; but thy intercepter, full of
despite, bloody as [p]the hunter, attends thee at the
orchard-end: [p]dismount thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation,
for [p]thy assailant is quick, skilful and deadly.

Viola : You mistake, sir; I am sure no man hath any quarrel [p]to me: my
remembrance is very free and clear from [p]any image of offence done
to any man.

Sir Toby Belch : You'll find it otherwise, I assure you: therefore, [p]if you hold your
life at any price, betake you to [p]your guard; for your opposite hath
in him what [p]youth, strength, skill and wrath can furnish man
withal.

Viola : I pray you, sir, what is he?

Sir Toby Belch : He is knight, dubbed with unhatched rapier and on [p]carpet
consideration; but he is a devil in private [p]brawl: souls and bodies
hath he divorced three; and [p]his incensement at this moment is so
implacable, [p]that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of
death [p]and sepulchre. Hob, nob, is his word; give't or take't.

Viola : I will return again into the house and desire some [p]conduct of the
lady. I am no fighter. I have heard [p]of some kind of men that put
quarrels purposely on [p]others, to taste their valour: belike this is
a man [p]of that quirk.

Sir Toby Belch : Sir, no; his indignation derives itself out of a [p]very competent
injury: therefore, get you on and [p]give him his desire. Back you
shall not to the [p]house, unless you undertake that with me which
with [p]as much safety you might answer him: therefore, on, [p]or
strip your sword stark naked; for meddle you [p]must, that's certain,
or forswear to wear iron about you.

Viola : This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you, do me [p]this courteous
office, as to know of the knight what [p]my offence to him is: it is
something of my [p]negligence, nothing of my purpose.

Sir Toby Belch : I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by this [p]gentleman till my
return.

Viola : Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter?

Fabian : I know the knight is incensed against you, even to a [p]mortal
arbitrement; but nothing of the circumstance more.

Viola : I beseech you, what manner of man is he?

Fabian : Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read him by [p]his form, as you
are like to find him in the proof [p]of his valour. He is, indeed,
sir, the most skilful, [p]bloody and fatal opposite that you could
possibly [p]have found in any part of Illyria. Will you
walk [p]towards him? I will make your peace with him if I [p]can.

Viola : I shall be much bound to you for't: I am one that [p]had rather go
with sir priest than sir knight: I [p]care not who knows so much of my
mettle.

Sir Toby Belch : Why, man, he's a very devil; I have not seen such a [p]firago. I had a
pass with him, rapier, scabbard and [p]all, and he gives me the stuck
in with such a mortal [p]motion, that it is inevitable; and on the
answer, he [p]pays you as surely as your feet hit the ground
they [p]step on. They say he has been fencer to the Sophy.

Sir Andrew Aguecheek : Pox on't, I'll not meddle with him.

Sir Toby Belch : Ay, but he will not now be pacified: Fabian can [p]scarce hold him
yonder.

Sir Andrew Aguecheek : Plague on't, an I thought he had been valiant and so [p]cunning in
fence, I'ld have seen him damned ere I'ld [p]have challenged him. Let
him let the matter slip, [p]and I'll give him my horse, grey Capilet.

Sir Toby Belch : I'll make the motion: stand here, make a good show [p]on't: this shall
end without the perdition of souls. [p][Aside] [p]Marry, I'll ride
your horse as well as I ride you. [p][Re-enter FABIAN and
VIOLA] [p][To FABIAN] [p]I have his horse to take up the quarrel: [p]I
have persuaded him the youth's a devil.

Fabian : He is as horribly conceited of him; and pants and [p]looks pale, as if
a bear were at his heels.

Sir Toby Belch : [To VIOLA] There's no remedy, sir; he will fight [p]with you for's
oath sake: marry, he hath better [p]bethought him of his quarrel, and
he finds that now [p]scarce to be worth talking of: therefore draw,
for [p]the supportance of his vow; he protests he will not hurt you.

Viola : [Aside] Pray God defend me! A little thing would [p]make me tell them
how much I lack of a man.

Fabian : Give ground, if you see him furious.

Sir Toby Belch : Come, Sir Andrew, there's no remedy; the gentleman [p]will, for his
honour's sake, have one bout with you; [p]he cannot by the duello
avoid it: but he has [p]promised me, as he is a gentleman and a
soldier, he [p]will not hurt you. Come on; to't.

Sir Andrew Aguecheek : Pray God, he keep his oath!

Viola : I do assure you, 'tis against my will.

Antonio : Put up your sword. If this young gentleman [p]Have done offence, I
take the fault on me: [p]If you offend him, I for him defy you.

Sir Toby Belch : You, sir! why, what are you?

Antonio : One, sir, that for his love dares yet do more [p]Than you have heard
him brag to you he will.

Sir Toby Belch : Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for you.

Fabian : O good Sir Toby, hold! here come the officers.

Sir Toby Belch : I'll be with you anon.

Viola : Pray, sir, put your sword up, if you please.

Sir Andrew Aguecheek : Marry, will I, sir; and, for that I promised you, [p]I'll be as good
as my word: he will bear you easily [p]and reins well.

First Officer : This is the man; do thy office.

Second Officer : Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit of Count Orsino.

Antonio : You do mistake me, sir.

First Officer : No, sir, no jot; I know your favour well, [p]Though now you have no
sea-cap on your head. [p]Take him away: he knows I know him well.

Antonio : I must obey. [p][To VIOLA] [p]This comes with seeking you: [p]But
there's no remedy; I shall answer it. [p]What will you do, now my
necessity [p]Makes me to ask you for my purse? It grieves me [p]Much
more for what I cannot do for you [p]Than what befalls myself. You
stand amazed; [p]But be of comfort.

Second Officer : Come, sir, away.

Antonio : I must entreat of you some of that money.

Viola : What money, sir? [p]For the fair kindness you have show'd me
here, [p]And, part, being prompted by your present trouble, [p]Out of
my lean and low ability [p]I'll lend you something: my having is not
much; [p]I'll make division of my present with you: [p]Hold, there's
half my coffer.

Antonio : Will you deny me now? [p]Is't possible that my deserts to you [p]Can
lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery, [p]Lest that it make me so
unsound a man [p]As to upbraid you with those kindnesses [p]That I
have done for you.

Viola : I know of none; [p]Nor know I you by voice or any feature: [p]I hate
ingratitude more in a man [p]Than lying, vainness, babbling,
drunkenness, [p]Or any taint of vice whose strong
corruption [p]Inhabits our frail blood.

Antonio : O heavens themselves!

Second Officer : Come, sir, I pray you, go.

Antonio : Let me speak a little. This youth that you see here [p]I snatch'd one
half out of the jaws of death, [p]Relieved him with such sanctity of
love, [p]And to his image, which methought did promise [p]Most
venerable worth, did I devotion.

First Officer : What's that to us? The time goes by: away!

Antonio : But O how vile an idol proves this god [p]Thou hast, Sebastian, done
good feature shame. [p]In nature there's no blemish but the
mind; [p]None can be call'd deform'd but the unkind: [p]Virtue is
beauty, but the beauteous evil [p]Are empty trunks o'erflourish'd by
the devil.

First Officer : The man grows mad: away with him! Come, come, sir.

Antonio : Lead me on.

Viola : Methinks his words do from such passion fly, [p]That he believes
himself: so do not I. [p]Prove true, imagination, O, prove
true, [p]That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you!

Sir Toby Belch : Come hither, knight; come hither, Fabian: we'll [p]whisper o'er a
couplet or two of most sage saws.

Viola : He named Sebastian: I my brother know [p]Yet living in my glass; even
such and so [p]In favour was my brother, and he went [p]Still in this
fashion, colour, ornament, [p]For him I imitate: O, if it
prove, [p]Tempests are kind and salt waves fresh in love.

Sir Toby Belch : A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward than [p]a hare: his
dishonesty appears in leaving his [p]friend here in necessity and
denying him; and for [p]his cowardship, ask Fabian.

Fabian : A coward, a most devout coward, religious in it.

Sir Andrew Aguecheek : 'Slid, I'll after him again and beat him.

Sir Toby Belch : Do; cuff him soundly, but never draw thy sword.

Sir Andrew Aguecheek : An I do not,--

Fabian : Come, let's see the event.

Sir Toby Belch : I dare lay any money 'twill be nothing yet.

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Next: Act 4 - Scene 1

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