Twelfth Night, or, What You Will

Enter Antonio and Sebastian.

ANTONIO Will you stay no longer? Nor will you not that	1
I go with you?	2
SEBASTIAN By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly	3
over me. The malignancy of my fate might perhaps	4
distemper yours. Therefore I shall crave of you your	5
leave that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad	6
recompense for your love to lay any of them on you.	7
ANTONIO Let me yet know of you whither you are	8
bound.	9
SEBASTIAN No, sooth, sir. My determinate voyage is	10
mere extravagancy. But I perceive in you so excel-	11
lent a touch of modesty that you will not extort	12
from me what I am willing to keep in. Therefore it	13
charges me in manners the rather to express my-	14
self. You must know of me, then, Antonio, my name	15
is Sebastian, which I called Roderigo. My father was	16
that Sebastian of Messaline whom I know you have	17
heard of. He left behind him myself and a sister,	18
both born in an hour. If the heavens had been	19
pleased, would we had so ended! But you, sir,	20
altered that, for some hour before you took me	21
from the breach of the sea was my sister drowned.	22
ANTONIO Alas the day!	23
SEBASTIAN A lady, sir, though it was said she much	24
resembled me, was yet of many accounted beauti-	25
ful. But though I could not with such estimable	26
wonder overfar believe that, yet thus far I will boldly	27
publish her: she bore a mind that envy could not but	28
call fair. She is drowned already, sir, with salt water,	29
though I seem to drown her remembrance again	30
with more.	31
ANTONIO Pardon me, sir, your bad entertainment.	32
SEBASTIAN O good Antonio, forgive me your trouble.	33
ANTONIO If you will not murder me for my love, let me	34
be your servant.	35
SEBASTIAN If you will not undo what you have done—	36
that is, kill him whom you have recovered—desire	37
it not. Fare you well at once. My bosom is full of	38
kindness, and I am yet so near the manners of my	39
mother that, upon the least occasion more, mine	40
eyes will tell tales of me. I am bound to the Count	41
Orsino’s court. Farewell.	42

He exits.

ANTONIO
The gentleness of all the gods go with thee!	43
I have many enemies in Orsino’s court,	44
Else would I very shortly see thee there.	45
But come what may, I do adore thee so	46
That danger shall seem sport, and I will go.	47

He exits.

Scene 2

Enter Viola and Malvolio, at several doors.

MALVOLIO Were not you even now with the Countess	1
Olivia?	2
VIOLA Even now, sir. On a moderate pace I have since	3
arrived but hither.	4
MALVOLIO She returns this ring to you, sir. You might	5
have saved me my pains to have taken it away	6
yourself. She adds, moreover, that you should put	7
your lord into a desperate assurance she will none	8
of him. And one thing more, that you be never so	9
hardy to come again in his affairs, unless it be to	10
report your lord’s taking of this. Receive it so.	11
VIOLA She took the ring of me. I’ll none of it.	12
MALVOLIO Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her, and	13
her will is it should be so returned. <He throws	14
down the ring.> If it be worth stooping for, there it	15
lies, in your eye; if not, be it his that finds it.	16

He exits.

VIOLA
I left no ring with her. What means this lady?	17

Fortune forbid my outside have not charmed her!	18
She made good view of me, indeed so much	19
That methought her eyes had lost her tongue,	20
For she did speak in starts distractedly.	21
She loves me, sure! The cunning of her passion	22
Invites me in this churlish messenger.	23
None of my lord’s ring? Why, he sent her none!	24
I am the man. If it be so, as ’tis,	25
Poor lady, she were better love a dream.	26
Disguise, I see thou art a wickedness	27
Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.	28
How easy is it for the proper false	29
In women’s waxen hearts to set their forms!	30
Alas, <our> frailty is the cause, not we,	31
For such as we are made <of,> such we be.	32
How will this fadge? My master loves her dearly,	33
And I, poor monster, fond as much on him,	34
And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me.	35
What will become of this? As I am man,	36
My state is desperate for my master’s love.	37
As I am woman (now, alas the day!),	38
What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe!	39
O Time, thou must untangle this, not I.	40
It is too hard a knot for me t’ untie.	41

Scene 3

Enter Sir Toby and Sir Andrew.

TOBY Approach, Sir Andrew. Not to be abed after	1
midnight is to be up betimes, and “diluculo sur-	2
gere,” thou know’st—	3
ANDREW Nay, by my troth, I know not. But I know to	4
be up late is to be up late.	5
TOBY A false conclusion. I hate it as an unfilled can. To	6
be up after midnight and to go to bed then, is early,	7
so that to go to bed after midnight is to go to bed	8
betimes. Does not our lives consist of the four	9
elements?	10
ANDREW Faith, so they say, but I think it rather con-	11
sists of eating and drinking.	12
TOBY Thou ’rt a scholar. Let us therefore eat and	13
drink. Marian, I say, a stoup of wine!	14

Enter <Feste, the Fool.>

ANDREW Here comes the Fool, i’ faith.	15
FOOL How now, my hearts? Did you never see the	16
picture of “We Three”?	17
TOBY Welcome, ass! Now let’s have a catch.	18
ANDREW By my troth, the Fool has an excellent breast.	19
I had rather than forty shillings I had such a leg,	20
and so sweet a breath to sing, as the Fool has.—In	21
sooth, thou wast in very gracious fooling last night	22
when thou spok’st of Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians	23
passing the equinoctial of Queubus. ’Twas very	24
good, i’ faith. I sent thee sixpence for thy leman.	25
Hadst it?	26
FOOL I did impeticos thy gratillity, for Malvolio’s nose	27
is no whipstock, my lady has a white hand, and the	28
Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses.	29
ANDREW Excellent! Why, this is the best fooling when	30
all is done. Now, a song.	31
TOBY, <giving money to the Fool> Come on, there is	32
sixpence for you. Let’s have a song.	33
ANDREW, <giving money to the Fool> There’s a testril of	34
me, too. If one knight give a—	35
FOOL Would you have a love song or a song of good	36
life?	37
TOBY A love song, a love song.	38
ANDREW Ay, ay, I care not for good life.	39
FOOL sings
O mistress mine, where are you roaming?	40
O, stay and hear! Your truelove’s coming,	41
That can sing both high and low.	42
Trip no further, pretty sweeting.	43
Journeys end in lovers meeting,	44
Every wise man’s son doth know.	45
ANDREW Excellent good, i’ faith.	46
TOBY Good, good.	47
FOOL <sings>
What is love? ’Tis not hereafter.	48
Present mirth hath present laughter.	49
What’s to come is still unsure.	50
In delay there lies no plenty,	51
Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty.	52
Youth’s a stuff will not endure.	53
ANDREW A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight.	54
TOBY A contagious breath.	55
ANDREW Very sweet and contagious, i’ faith.	56
TOBY To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in contagion.	57
But shall we make the welkin dance indeed? Shall	58
we rouse the night owl in a catch that will draw	59
three souls out of one weaver? Shall we do that?	60
ANDREW An you love me, let’s do ’t. I am dog at a	61
catch.	62
FOOL By ’r Lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well.	63
ANDREW Most certain. Let our catch be “Thou	64
Knave.”	65
FOOL “Hold thy peace, thou knave,” knight? I shall be	66
constrained in ’t to call thee “knave,” knight.	67
ANDREW ’Tis not the first time I have constrained one	68
to call me “knave.” Begin, Fool. It begins “Hold	69
thy peace.”	70
FOOL I shall never begin if I hold my peace.	71
ANDREW Good, i’ faith. Come, begin.	72

Catch sung.

Enter Maria.

MARIA What a caterwauling do you keep here! If my	73
lady have not called up her steward Malvolio and	74
bid him turn you out of doors, never trust me.	75
TOBY My lady’s a Cataian, we are politicians, Malvolio’s	76
a Peg-a-Ramsey, and <Sings.> Three merry men be	77
we. Am not I consanguineous? Am I not of her	78
blood? Tillyvally! “Lady”! <Sings.> There dwelt a man	79
in Babylon, lady, lady.	80
FOOL Beshrew me, the knight’s in admirable fooling.	81
ANDREW Ay, he does well enough if he be disposed,	82
and so do I, too. He does it with a better grace, but	83
I do it more natural.	84
TOBY <sings> O’ the twelfth day of December—	85
MARIA For the love o’ God, peace!	86

Enter Malvolio.

MALVOLIO My masters, are you mad? Or what are you?	87
Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty but to	88
gabble like tinkers at this time of night? Do you	89
make an ale-house of my lady’s house, that you	90
squeak out your coziers’ catches without any miti-	91
gation or remorse of voice? Is there no respect of	92
place, persons, nor time in you?	93
TOBY We did keep time, sir, in our catches. Sneck up!	94
MALVOLIO Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My lady	95
bade me tell you that, though she harbors you as her	96
kinsman, she’s nothing allied to your disorders. If	97
you can separate yourself and your misdemeanors,	98
you are welcome to the house; if not, an it would	99
please you to take leave of her, she is very willing to	100
bid you farewell.	101
TOBY <sings>
Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be gone.	102
MARIA Nay, good Sir Toby.	103
FOOL <sings>
His eyes do show his days are almost done.	104
MALVOLIO Is ’t even so?	105
TOBY <sings>
But I will never die.	106
FOOL <sings>
Sir Toby, there you lie.	107
MALVOLIO This is much credit to you.	108
TOBY <sings>
Shall I bid him go?	109
FOOL <sings>
What an if you do?	110
TOBY <sings>
Shall I bid him go, and spare not?	111
FOOL <sings>
O no, no, no, no, you dare not.	112
TOBY Out o’ tune, sir? You lie. Art any more than a	113
steward? Dost thou think, because thou art virtu-	114
ous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?	115
FOOL Yes, by Saint Anne, and ginger shall be hot i’ th’	116
mouth, too.	117
TOBY Thou ’rt i’ th’ right.—Go, sir, rub your chain	118
with crumbs.—A stoup of wine, Maria!	119
MALVOLIO Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady’s favor	120
at anything more than contempt, you would not give	121
means for this uncivil rule. She shall know of it, by	122
this hand.	123

He exits.

MARIA Go shake your ears!	124
ANDREW ’Twere as good a deed as to drink when a	125
man’s a-hungry, to challenge him the field and	126
then to break promise with him and make a fool of	127
him.	128
TOBY Do ’t, knight. I’ll write thee a challenge. Or I’ll	129
deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth.	130
MARIA Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for tonight. Since the	131
youth of the Count’s was today with my lady, she is	132
much out of quiet. For Monsieur Malvolio, let me	133
alone with him. If I do not gull him into <a nayword>	134
and make him a common recreation, do not think I	135
have wit enough to lie straight in my bed. I know I	136
can do it.	137
TOBY Possess us, possess us, tell us something of him.	138
MARIA Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of puritan.	139
ANDREW O, if I thought that, I’d beat him like a dog!	140
TOBY What, for being a puritan? Thy exquisite reason,	141
dear knight?	142
ANDREW I have no exquisite reason for ’t, but I have	143
reason good enough.	144
MARIA The devil a puritan that he is, or anything	145
constantly but a time-pleaser; an affectioned ass	146
that cons state without book and utters it by great	147
swaths; the best persuaded of himself, so crammed,	148
as he thinks, with excellencies, that it is his grounds	149
of faith that all that look on him love him. And on	150
that vice in him will my revenge find notable cause	151
to work.	152
TOBY What wilt thou do?	153
MARIA I will drop in his way some obscure epistles of	154
love, wherein by the color of his beard, the shape of	155
his leg, the manner of his gait, the expressure of his	156
eye, forehead, and complexion, he shall find himself	157
most feelingly personated. I can write very like my	158
lady your niece; on a forgotten matter, we can	159
hardly make distinction of our hands.	160
TOBY Excellent! I smell a device.	161
ANDREW I have ’t in my nose, too.	162
TOBY He shall think, by the letters that thou wilt drop,	163
that they come from my niece, and that she’s in	164
love with him.	165
MARIA My purpose is indeed a horse of that color.	166
ANDREW And your horse now would make him an ass.	167
MARIA Ass, I doubt not.	168
ANDREW O, ’twill be admirable!	169
MARIA Sport royal, I warrant you. I know my physic	170
will work with him. I will plant you two, and let the	171
Fool make a third, where he shall find the letter.	172
Observe his construction of it. For this night, to bed,	173
and dream on the event. Farewell.	174
TOBY Good night, Penthesilea.	175

She exits.

ANDREW Before me, she’s a good wench.	176
TOBY She’s a beagle true bred, and one that adores	177
me. What o’ that?	178
ANDREW I was adored once, too.	179
TOBY Let’s to bed, knight. Thou hadst need send for	180
more money.	181
ANDREW If I cannot recover your niece, I am a foul way	182
out.	183
TOBY Send for money, knight. If thou hast her not i’	184
th’ end, call me “Cut.”	185
ANDREW If I do not, never trust me, take it how you	186
will.	187
TOBY Come, come, I’ll go burn some sack. ’Tis too	188
late to go to bed now. Come, knight; come, knight.	189

They exit

Scene 4

Enter <Orsino,> Viola, Curio, and others.

ORSINO
Give me some music. <Music plays.> Now, good	1
morrow, friends.—	2
Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song,	3
That old and antique song we heard last night.	4
Methought it did relieve my passion much,	5
More than light airs and recollected terms	6
Of these most brisk and giddy-pacèd times.	7
Come, but one verse.	8
CURIO He is not here, so please your Lordship, that	9
should sing it.	10
ORSINO Who was it?	11
CURIO Feste the jester, my lord, a Fool that the Lady	12
Olivia’s father took much delight in. He is about	13
the house.	14
ORSINO
Seek him out <Curio exits,> and play the tune the	15
while.	16

Music plays.

<To Viola.> Come hither, boy. If ever thou shalt love,	17
In the sweet pangs of it remember me,	18
For such as I am, all true lovers are,	19
Unstaid and skittish in all motions else	20
Save in the constant image of the creature	21
That is beloved. How dost thou like this tune?	22
VIOLA
It gives a very echo to the seat	23
Where love is throned.	24
ORSINO Thou dost speak masterly.	25
My life upon ’t, young though thou art, thine eye	26
Hath stayed upon some favor that it loves.	27
Hath it not, boy?	28
VIOLA A little, by your favor.	29
ORSINO
What kind of woman is ’t?	30
VIOLA Of your complexion.	31
ORSINO
She is not worth thee, then. What years, i’ faith?	32
VIOLA About your years, my lord.	33
ORSINO
Too old, by heaven. Let still the woman take	34
An elder than herself. So wears she to him;	35
So sways she level in her husband’s heart.	36
For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,	37
Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,	38
More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn,	39
Than women’s are.	40
VIOLA I think it well, my lord.	41
ORSINO
Then let thy love be younger than thyself,	42
Or thy affection cannot hold the bent.	43
For women are as roses, whose fair flower,	44
Being once displayed, doth fall that very hour.	45
VIOLA
And so they are. Alas, that they are so,	46
To die even when they to perfection grow!	47

Enter Curio and <Feste, the Fool.>

ORSINO
O, fellow, come, the song we had last night.—	48
Mark it, Cesario. It is old and plain;	49
The spinsters and the knitters in the sun	50
And the free maids that weave their thread with	51
bones	52
Do use to chant it. It is silly sooth,	53
And dallies with the innocence of love	54
Like the old age.	55
FOOL Are you ready, sir?	56
ORSINO Ay, prithee, sing.	57

Music.

The Song.

<FOOL>
Come away, come away, death,	58
And in sad cypress let me be laid.	59
<Fly> away, <fly> away, breath,	60
I am slain by a fair cruel maid.	61
My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,	62
O, prepare it!	63
My part of death, no one so true	64
Did share it.	65
Not a flower, not a flower sweet	66
On my black coffin let there be strown;	67
Not a friend, not a friend greet	68
My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown.	69
A thousand thousand sighs to save,	70
Lay me, O, where	71
Sad true lover never find my grave,	72
To weep there.	73
ORSINO, <giving money> There’s for thy pains.	74
FOOL No pains, sir. I take pleasure in singing, sir.	75
ORSINO I’ll pay thy pleasure, then.	76
FOOL Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or	77
another.	78
ORSINO Give me now leave to leave thee.	79
FOOL Now the melancholy god protect thee, and the	80
tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffeta, for thy	81
mind is a very opal. I would have men of such	82
constancy put to sea, that their business might be	83
everything and their intent everywhere, for that’s it	84
that always makes a good voyage of nothing. Fare-	85
well.	86

He exits.

ORSINO
Let all the rest give place.	87
<All but Orsino and Viola exit.>
Once more, Cesario,	88
Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty.	89
Tell her my love, more noble than the world,	90
Prizes not quantity of dirty lands.	91
The parts that fortune hath bestowed upon her,	92
Tell her, I hold as giddily as fortune.	93
But ’tis that miracle and queen of gems	94
That nature pranks her in attracts my soul.	95
VIOLA But if she cannot love you, sir—	96
ORSINO
<I> cannot be so answered.	97
VIOLA Sooth, but you must.	98
Say that some lady, as perhaps there is,	99
Hath for your love as great a pang of heart	100
As you have for Olivia. You cannot love her;	101
You tell her so. Must she not then be answered?	102
ORSINO There is no woman’s sides	103
Can bide the beating of so strong a passion	104
As love doth give my heart; no woman’s heart	105
So big, to hold so much; they lack retention.	106
Alas, their love may be called appetite,	107
No motion of the liver, but the palate,	108
That suffer surfeit, cloyment, and revolt;	109
But mine is all as hungry as the sea,	110
And can digest as much. Make no compare	111
Between that love a woman can bear me	112
And that I owe Olivia.	113
VIOLA Ay, but I know—	114
ORSINO What dost thou know?	115
VIOLA
Too well what love women to men may owe.	116
In faith, they are as true of heart as we.	117
My father had a daughter loved a man	118
As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman,	119
I should your Lordship.	120
ORSINO And what’s her history?	121
VIOLA
A blank, my lord. She never told her love,	122
But let concealment, like a worm i’ th’ bud,	123
Feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought,	124
And with a green and yellow melancholy	125
She sat like Patience on a monument,	126
Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?	127
We men may say more, swear more, but indeed	128
Our shows are more than will; for still we prove	129
Much in our vows but little in our love.	130
ORSINO
But died thy sister of her love, my boy?	131
VIOLA
I am all the daughters of my father’s house,	132
And all the brothers, too—and yet I know not.	133
Sir, shall I to this lady?	134
ORSINO Ay, that’s the theme.	135
To her in haste. Give her this jewel. Say	136
My love can give no place, bide no denay.	137

<He hands her a jewel and> they exit.

Scene 5

Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian.

TOBY Come thy ways, Signior Fabian.	1
FABIAN Nay, I’ll come. If I lose a scruple of this sport,	2
let me be boiled to death with melancholy.	3
TOBY Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly	4
rascally sheep-biter come by some notable shame?	5
FABIAN I would exult, man. You know he brought me	6
out o’ favor with my lady about a bearbaiting here.	7
TOBY To anger him, we’ll have the bear again, and we	8
will fool him black and blue, shall we not, Sir	9
Andrew?	10
ANDREW An we do not, it is pity of our lives.	11

Enter Maria.

TOBY Here comes the little villain.—How now, my	12
metal of India?	13
MARIA Get you all three into the boxtree. Malvolio’s	14
coming down this walk. He has been yonder i’ the	15
sun practicing behavior to his own shadow this half	16
hour. Observe him, for the love of mockery, for I	17
know this letter will make a contemplative idiot of	18
him. Close, in the name of jesting! <They hide.> Lie	19
thou there <putting down the letter,> for here comes	20
the trout that must be caught with tickling.	21

She exits.

Enter Malvolio.

MALVOLIO ’Tis but fortune, all is fortune. Maria once	22
told me she did affect me, and I have heard herself	23
come thus near, that should she fancy, it should be	24
one of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a	25
more exalted respect than anyone else that follows	26
her. What should I think on ’t?	27
TOBY, <aside> Here’s an overweening rogue.	28
FABIAN, <aside> O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare	29
turkeycock of him. How he jets under his advanced	30
plumes!	31
ANDREW, <aside> ’Slight, I could so beat the rogue!	32
TOBY, <aside> Peace, I say.	33
MALVOLIO To be Count Malvolio.	34
TOBY, <aside> Ah, rogue!	35
ANDREW, <aside> Pistol him, pistol him!	36
TOBY, <aside> Peace, peace!	37
MALVOLIO There is example for ’t. The lady of the	38
Strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe.	39
ANDREW, <aside> Fie on him, Jezebel!	40
FABIAN,< aside> O, peace, now he’s deeply in. Look how	41
imagination blows him.	42
MALVOLIO Having been three months married to her,	43
sitting in my state—	44
TOBY, <aside> O, for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye!	45
MALVOLIO Calling my officers about me, in my	46
branched velvet gown, having come from a daybed,	47
where I have left Olivia sleeping—	48
TOBY, <aside> Fire and brimstone!	49
FABIAN, <aside> O, peace, peace!	50
MALVOLIO And then to have the humor of state; and	51
after a demure travel of regard, telling them I	52
know my place, as I would they should do theirs, to	53
ask for my kinsman Toby—	54
TOBY, <aside> Bolts and shackles!	55
FABIAN, <aside> O, peace, peace, peace! Now, now.	56
MALVOLIO Seven of my people, with an obedient start,	57
make out for him. I frown the while, and per-	58
chance wind up my watch, or play with my—some	59
rich jewel. Toby approaches; curtsies there to me—	60
TOBY, <aside> Shall this fellow live?	61
FABIAN, <aside> Though our silence be drawn from us	62
with cars, yet peace.	63
MALVOLIO I extend my hand to him thus, quenching	64
my familiar smile with an austere regard of con-	65
trol—	66
TOBY, <aside> And does not Toby take you a blow o’ the	67
lips then?	68
MALVOLIO Saying “Cousin Toby, my fortunes, having	69
cast me on your niece, give me this prerogative of	70
speech—”	71
TOBY, <aside> What, what?	72
MALVOLIO “You must amend your drunkenness.”	73
TOBY, <aside> Out, scab!	74
FABIAN, <aside> Nay, patience, or we break the sinews	75
of our plot.	76
MALVOLIO “Besides, you waste the treasure of your	77
time with a foolish knight—”	78
ANDREW, <aside> That’s me, I warrant you.	79
MALVOLIO “One Sir Andrew.”	80
ANDREW, <aside> I knew ’twas I, for many do call me	81
fool.	82
MALVOLIO, <seeing the letter> What employment have	83
we here?	84
FABIAN, <aside> Now is the woodcock near the gin.	85
TOBY, <aside> O, peace, and the spirit of humors inti-	86
mate reading aloud to him.	87
MALVOLIO, <taking up the letter> By my life, this is my	88
lady’s hand! These be her very c’s, her u’s, and her	89
t’s, and thus makes she her great P’s. It is in	90
contempt of question her hand.	91
ANDREW, <aside> Her c’s, her u’s, and her t’s. Why that?	92
MALVOLIO <reads> To the unknown beloved, this, and my	93
good wishes—Her very phrases! By your leave, wax.	94
Soft. And the impressure her Lucrece, with which	95
she uses to seal—’tis my lady!	96

To whom should this be?	97
FABIAN, <aside> This wins him, liver and all.	98
MALVOLIO <reads>
Jove knows I love,	99
But who?	100
Lips, do not move;	101
No man must know.	102
“No man must know.” What follows? The numbers	103
altered. “No man must know.” If this should be	104
thee, Malvolio!	105
TOBY, <aside> Marry, hang thee, brock!	106
MALVOLIO <reads>
I may command where I adore,	107
But silence, like a Lucrece knife,	108
With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore;	109
M.O.A.I. doth sway my life.	110
FABIAN, <aside> A fustian riddle!	111
TOBY, <aside> Excellent wench, say I.	112
MALVOLIO “M.O.A.I. doth sway my life.” Nay, but first	113
let me see, let me see, let me see.	114
FABIAN, <aside> What dish o’ poison has she dressed	115
him!	116
TOBY, <aside> And with what wing the <staniel> checks	117
at it!	118
MALVOLIO “I may command where I adore.” Why, she	119
may command me; I serve her, she is my lady. Why,	120
this is evident to any formal capacity. There is no	121
obstruction in this. And the end—what should that	122
alphabetical position portend? If I could make that	123
resemble something in me! Softly! “M.O.A.I.”—	124
TOBY, <aside> O, ay, make up that.—He is now at a cold	125
scent.	126
FABIAN, <aside> Sowter will cry upon ’t for all this,	127
though it be as rank as a fox.	128
MALVOLIO “M”—Malvolio. “M”—why, that begins	129
my name!	130
FABIAN, <aside> Did not I say he would work it out? The	131
cur is excellent at faults.	132
MALVOLIO “M.” But then there is no consonancy in	133
the sequel that suffers under probation. “A” should	134
follow, but “O” does.	135
FABIAN, <aside> And “O” shall end, I hope.	136
TOBY, <aside> Ay, or I’ll cudgel him and make him cry	137
“O.”	138
MALVOLIO And then “I” comes behind.	139
FABIAN, <aside> Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you	140
might see more detraction at your heels than for-	141
tunes before you.	142
MALVOLIO “M.O.A.I.” This simulation is not as the	143
former, and yet to crush this a little, it would bow	144
to me, for every one of these letters are in my name.	145
Soft, here follows prose.	146
<He reads.> If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my	147
stars I am above thee, but be not afraid of greatness.	148
Some are <born> great, some <achieve> greatness, and	149
some have greatness thrust upon ’em. Thy fates open	150
their hands. Let thy blood and spirit embrace them.	151
And, to inure thyself to what thou art like to be, cast	152
thy humble slough and appear fresh. Be opposite with	153
a kinsman, surly with servants. Let thy tongue tang	154
arguments of state. Put thyself into the trick of singu-	155
larity. She thus advises thee that sighs for thee.	156
Remember who commended thy yellow stockings and	157
wished to see thee ever cross-gartered. I say, remem-	158
ber. Go to, thou art made, if thou desir’st to be so. If	159
not, let me see thee a steward still, the fellow of	160
servants, and not worthy to touch Fortune’s fingers.	161
Farewell. She that would alter services with thee.	162
The Fortunate-Unhappy.	163
Daylight and champian discovers not more! This is	164
open. I will be proud, I will read politic authors, I	165
will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off gross acquain-	166
tance, I will be point-devise the very man. I do not	167
now fool myself, to let imagination jade me; for	168
every reason excites to this, that my lady loves me.	169
She did commend my yellow stockings of late, she	170
did praise my leg being cross-gartered, and in this	171
she manifests herself to my love and, with a kind of	172
injunction, drives me to these habits of her liking. I	173
thank my stars, I am happy. I will be strange, stout,	174
in yellow stockings, and cross-gartered, even with	175
the swiftness of putting on. Jove and my stars be	176
praised! Here is yet a postscript.	177
<He reads.> Thou canst not choose but know who I	178
am. If thou entertain’st my love, let it appear in thy	179
smiling; thy smiles become thee well. Therefore in my	180
presence still smile, dear my sweet, I prithee.	181
Jove, I thank thee! I will smile. I will do everything	182
that thou wilt have me.	183

He exits.

FABIAN I will not give my part of this sport for a	184
pension of thousands to be paid from the Sophy.	185
TOBY I could marry this wench for this device.	186
ANDREW So could I, too.	187
TOBY And ask no other dowry with her but such	188
another jest.	189
ANDREW Nor I neither.	190

Enter Maria.

FABIAN Here comes my noble gull-catcher.	191
TOBY Wilt thou set thy foot o’ my neck?	192
ANDREW Or o’ mine either?	193
TOBY Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip and become	194
thy bondslave?	195
ANDREW I’ faith, or I either?	196
TOBY Why, thou hast put him in such a dream that	197
when the image of it leaves him he must run mad.	198
MARIA Nay, but say true, does it work upon him?	199
TOBY Like aqua vitae with a midwife.	200
MARIA If you will then see the fruits of the sport,	201
mark his first approach before my lady. He will	202
come to her in yellow stockings, and ’tis a color	203
she abhors, and cross-gartered, a fashion she de-	204
tests; and he will smile upon her, which will now	205
be so unsuitable to her disposition, being ad-	206
dicted to a melancholy as she is, that it cannot	207
but turn him into a notable contempt. If you will	208
see it, follow me.	209
TOBY To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent dev-	210
il of wit!	211
ANDREW I’ll make one, too.	212

They exit.

ACT 2