Twelfth Night; Or, What You Will

1 Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew and Fabian.
2 SIR TOBY.
3 Come thy ways, Signior Fabian.
4 FABIAN.
5 Nay, I’ll come. If I lose a scruple of this sport, let me be boiled to
6 death with melancholy.
7 SIR TOBY.
8 Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly rascally sheep-biter
9 come by some notable shame?
10 FABIAN.
11 I would exult, man. You know he brought me out o’ favour with my lady
12 about a bear-baiting here.
13 SIR TOBY.
14 To anger him we’ll have the bear again, and we will fool him black and
15 blue, shall we not, Sir Andrew?
16 SIR ANDREW.
17 And we do not, it is pity of our lives.
18 Enter Maria.
19 SIR TOBY.
20 Here comes the little villain. How now, my metal of India?
21 MARIA.
22 Get ye all three into the box-tree. Malvolio’s coming down this walk;
23 he has been yonder i’ the sun practising behaviour to his own shadow
24 this half hour: observe him, for the love of mockery; for I know this
25 letter will make a contemplative idiot of him. Close, in the name of
26 jesting! [_The men hide themselves._] Lie thou there; [_Throws down a
27 letter_] for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling.
28 [_Exit Maria._]
29 Enter Malvolio.
30 MALVOLIO.
31 ’Tis but fortune, all is fortune. Maria once told me she did affect me,
32 and I have heard herself come thus near, that should she fancy, it
33 should be one of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a more
34 exalted respect than anyone else that follows her. What should I think
35 on’t?
36 SIR TOBY.
37 Here’s an overweening rogue!
38 FABIAN.
39 O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him; how he jets
40 under his advanced plumes!
41 SIR ANDREW.
42 ’Slight, I could so beat the rogue!
43 SIR TOBY.
44 Peace, I say.
45 MALVOLIO.
46 To be Count Malvolio.
47 SIR TOBY.
48 Ah, rogue!
49 SIR ANDREW.
50 Pistol him, pistol him.
51 SIR TOBY.
52 Peace, peace.
53 MALVOLIO.
54 There is example for’t. The lady of the Strachy married the yeoman of
55 the wardrobe.
56 SIR ANDREW.
57 Fie on him, Jezebel!
58 FABIAN.
59 O, peace! now he’s deeply in; look how imagination blows him.
60 MALVOLIO.
61 Having been three months married to her, sitting in my state—
62 SIR TOBY.
63 O for a stone-bow to hit him in the eye!
64 MALVOLIO.
65 Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet gown; having come
66 from a day-bed, where I have left Olivia sleeping.
67 SIR TOBY.
68 Fire and brimstone!
69 FABIAN.
70 O, peace, peace.
71 MALVOLIO.
72 And then to have the humour of state; and after a demure travel of
73 regard, telling them I know my place as I would they should do theirs,
74 to ask for my kinsman Toby.
75 SIR TOBY.
76 Bolts and shackles!
77 FABIAN.
78 O, peace, peace, peace! Now, now.
79 MALVOLIO.
80 Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for him. I frown
81 the while, and perchance wind up my watch, or play with some rich
82 jewel. Toby approaches; curtsies there to me—
83 SIR TOBY.
84 Shall this fellow live?
85 FABIAN.
86 Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace!
87 MALVOLIO.
88 I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar smile with an
89 austere regard of control—
90 SIR TOBY.
91 And does not Toby take you a blow o’ the lips then?
92 MALVOLIO.
93 Saying ‘Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast me on your niece, give me
94 this prerogative of speech—’
95 SIR TOBY.
96 What, what?
97 MALVOLIO.
98 ‘You must amend your drunkenness.’
99 SIR TOBY.
100 Out, scab!
101 FABIAN.
102 Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot.
103 MALVOLIO.
104 ‘Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish knight—’
105 SIR ANDREW.
106 That’s me, I warrant you.
107 MALVOLIO.
108 ‘One Sir Andrew.’
109 SIR ANDREW.
110 I knew ’twas I, for many do call me fool.
111 MALVOLIO.
112 [_Taking up the letter._] What employment have we here?
113 FABIAN.
114 Now is the woodcock near the gin.
115 SIR TOBY.
116 O, peace! And the spirit of humours intimate reading aloud to him!
117 MALVOLIO.
118 By my life, this is my lady’s hand: these be her very C’s, her U’s, and
119 her T’s, and thus makes she her great P’s. It is in contempt of
120 question, her hand.
121 SIR ANDREW.
122 Her C’s, her U’s, and her T’s. Why that?
123 MALVOLIO.
124 [_Reads._] _To the unknown beloved, this, and my good wishes._ Her very
125 phrases! By your leave, wax. Soft! and the impressure her Lucrece, with
126 which she uses to seal: ’tis my lady. To whom should this be?
127 FABIAN.
128 This wins him, liver and all.
129 MALVOLIO.
130 [_Reads._]
131 _ Jove knows I love,
132 But who?
133 Lips, do not move,
134 No man must know._
135 ‘No man must know.’ What follows? The numbers alter’d! ‘No man must
136 know.’—If this should be thee, Malvolio?
137 SIR TOBY.
138 Marry, hang thee, brock!
139 MALVOLIO.
140 _ I may command where I adore,
141 But silence, like a Lucrece knife,
142 With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore;
143 M.O.A.I. doth sway my life._
144 FABIAN.
145 A fustian riddle!
146 SIR TOBY.
147 Excellent wench, say I.
148 MALVOLIO.
149 ‘M.O.A.I. doth sway my life.’—Nay, but first let me see, let me see,
150 let me see.
151 FABIAN.
152 What dish o’ poison has she dressed him!
153 SIR TOBY.
154 And with what wing the staniel checks at it!
155 MALVOLIO.
156 ‘I may command where I adore.’ Why, she may command me: I serve her,
157 she is my lady. Why, this is evident to any formal capacity. There is
158 no obstruction in this. And the end—what should that alphabetical
159 position portend? If I could make that resemble something in me!
160 Softly! ‘M.O.A.I.’—
161 SIR TOBY.
162 O, ay, make up that:—he is now at a cold scent.
163 FABIAN.
164 Sowter will cry upon’t for all this, though it be as rank as a fox.
165 MALVOLIO.
166 ‘M’—Malvolio; ‘M!’ Why, that begins my name!
167 FABIAN.
168 Did not I say he would work it out? The cur is excellent at faults.
169 MALVOLIO.
170 ‘M’—But then there is no consonancy in the sequel; that suffers under
171 probation: ‘A’ should follow, but ‘O’ does.
172 FABIAN.
173 And ‘O’ shall end, I hope.
174 SIR TOBY.
175 Ay, or I’ll cudgel him, and make him cry ‘O!’
176 MALVOLIO.
177 And then ‘I’ comes behind.
178 FABIAN.
179 Ay, and you had any eye behind you, you might see more detraction at
180 your heels than fortunes before you.
181 MALVOLIO.
182 ‘M.O.A.I.’ This simulation is not as the former: and yet, to crush this
183 a little, it would bow to me, for every one of these letters are in my
184 name. Soft, here follows prose.
185 [_Reads._] _If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I am above
186 thee, but be not afraid of greatness. Some are born great, some achieve
187 greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon ’em. Thy fates open
188 their hands, let thy blood and spirit embrace them. And, to inure
189 thyself to what thou art like to be, cast thy humble slough and appear
190 fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants. Let thy tongue
191 tang arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of singularity. She
192 thus advises thee that sighs for thee. Remember who commended thy
193 yellow stockings, and wished to see thee ever cross-gartered. I say,
194 remember. Go to, thou art made, if thou desir’st to be so. If not, let
195 me see thee a steward still, the fellow of servants, and not worthy to
196 touch Fortune’s fingers. Farewell. She that would alter services with
197 thee,
198 The Fortunate Unhappy._
199 Daylight and champian discovers not more! This is open. I will be
200 proud, I will read politic authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash
201 off gross acquaintance, I will be point-device, the very man. I do not
202 now fool myself, to let imagination jade me; for every reason excites
203 to this, that my lady loves me. She did commend my yellow stockings of
204 late, she did praise my leg being cross-gartered, and in this she
205 manifests herself to my love, and with a kind of injunction, drives me
206 to these habits of her liking. I thank my stars, I am happy. I will be
207 strange, stout, in yellow stockings, and cross-gartered, even with the
208 swiftness of putting on. Jove and my stars be praised!—Here is yet a
209 postscript. [_Reads._] _Thou canst not choose but know who I am. If
210 thou entertain’st my love, let it appear in thy smiling; thy smiles
211 become thee well. Therefore in my presence still smile, dear my sweet,
212 I prithee._ Jove, I thank thee. I will smile, I will do everything that
213 thou wilt have me.
214 [_Exit._]
215 FABIAN.
216 I will not give my part of this sport for a pension of thousands to be
217 paid from the Sophy.
218 SIR TOBY.
219 I could marry this wench for this device.
220 SIR ANDREW.
221 So could I too.
222 SIR TOBY.
223 And ask no other dowry with her but such another jest.
224 Enter Maria.
225 SIR ANDREW.
226 Nor I neither.
227 FABIAN.
228 Here comes my noble gull-catcher.
229 SIR TOBY.
230 Wilt thou set thy foot o’ my neck?
231 SIR ANDREW.
232 Or o’ mine either?
233 SIR TOBY.
234 Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and become thy bond-slave?
235 SIR ANDREW.
236 I’ faith, or I either?
237 SIR TOBY.
238 Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that when the image of it
239 leaves him he must run mad.
240 MARIA.
241 Nay, but say true, does it work upon him?
242 SIR TOBY.
243 Like aqua-vitae with a midwife.
244 MARIA.
245 If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark his first approach
246 before my lady: he will come to her in yellow stockings, and ’tis a
247 colour she abhors, and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests; and he
248 will smile upon her, which will now be so unsuitable to her
249 disposition, being addicted to a melancholy as she is, that it cannot
250 but turn him into a notable contempt. If you will see it, follow me.
251 SIR TOBY.
252 To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit!
253 SIR ANDREW.
254 I’ll make one too.
255 [_Exeunt._]