Ant. To the Elephant.- yourselves into stitches follow me: yon' gull Mal- Sir To. And cross-gartered? Mar. Most villanously; like a pedant that keeps SCENE III. A Street. Enter ANTONIO and Seb. I would not, by my will, have troubled you; Ant. I could not stay behind you; my desire, Seb. My kind Antonio, Ant. To-morrow, sir; best, first, go see your Seb. I am not weary, and 'tis long to night; With the memorials, and the things of fame, Ant. I shall pay dear. Seb. Do not then walk too open. Ant. It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here's my purse: In the south suburbs, at the Elephant, I do remember. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Olivia's Garden. Enter OLIVIA Oli. I have sent after him: He says he'll come : row'd. Where is Malvolio?-he is sad, and civil,4 Mar. He's coming, madam; but in very strange manner. He is sure possessed, madam. Oli. Why, what's the matter? does he rave? Mar. No, madam, he does nothing but smile: your ladyship were best to have some guard about you, if he come; for, sure, the man is tainted in his wits. Oli. Go call him hither.-I'm as mad as he, How now, Malvolio! Mar. Sweet lady, ho, ho. [Smiles fantastically. I sent for thee upon a sad occasion. Mal. Sad, lady? I could be sad: This does make some obstruction in the blood, this cross-gartering: But what of that, if it please the eye of one, it is with me as the very true sonnet is: Please one, and please all. Oli. Why, how dost thou, man? what is the matter with thee? Mal. Not black in my mind, though yellow in my legs: It did come to his hands, and commands shall be executed. I think, we do know the sweet Roman hand. Oli. Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio? Mal. To bed? ay, sweet-heart; and I'll come to thee. Oli. God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so, and kiss thy hand so oft? Mar. How do you, Malvolio? Mal. At your request? Yes; Nightingales answer daws. Mar. Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady? Mal. Be not afraid of greatness :-'Twas well writ. Is best to lodge; I will bespeak our diet, With viewing of the town; there shall you have me. Ant. Haply, your eye shall light upon some toy Seb. I'll be your purse-bearer, and leave you for last hatched birds are usually the smallest of the brood. The boy who played Maria's part was probably of diIninutive size. 1 Alluding to a Map engraved for the English trans lation of Linschoten's Voyage, published in 1598. This tap is multilineal in the extreme, and is the first in which the Eastern Islands are included. 2 Wealth, or fortune. Oli. Thy yellow stockings? Mal. And wished to see thee cross-gartered. Mal. Go to: thou art made, if thou desirest to be Oli. Am I made? Mal. If not, let me see thee a servant still. Ser. Madam, the young gentleman of the count 3 Lapsed, for lapsing or transgressing. See note on Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 4. -he is sad and civil. That is serious and grave, or solemn. Thus in Romeo and Juliet:-Come, civil night, 4. Oli. I'll come to him. [Exit Servant.] Good Maria, let this fellow be looked to. Where's my consin Toby? Let some of my people have a special care of him; I would not have him miscarry for the half of my dowry. Fab. If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction. Sir To. His very genius hath taken the infection of the device, man. Mar. Nay, pursue him now; lest the device take air, and taint. Fab. Why, we shall make him mad, indeed. [Exeunt OLIVIA and MARIA. Mal. Oh, ho! do you come near me now? no worse man than Sir Toby to look to me? This concurs directly with the letter: she sends him on pur- Sir To. Come, we'll have him in a dark room, pose, that I may appear stubborn to him; for she and bound. My niece is already in the belief that incites me to that in the letter. Cast thy humble he is mad; we may carry it thus, for our pleasure, slough, says she; be opposite with a kinsman, surly and his penance, till our very pastime, tired out of with servants, let thy tongue tang with arguments breath, prompt us to have mercy on him: at which of state,-put thyself into the trick of singularity;-time, we will bring the device to the bar, and crown and, consequently, sets down the manner how; as, thee for a finder of madmen. But see, but see. a sad face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in the habit of some sir of note, and so forth. I have limed her; but it is Jove's doing, and Jove make me thankful! And, when she went away now, Let this fellow be looked to: Fellow! not Malvolio, nor after my degree, but fellow. Why every thing adheres together; that no dram of a scruple, no scruple of a scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous or unsafe circumstance,-What can be said? Nothing that can be, can come between me and the full prospect of my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked." Re-enter MARIA, with SIR TOBY BELCH and Sir To. Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all the devils in hell be drawn in little, and Legion himself possessed him, yet I'll speak to him. Fab. Here he is, here he is:-How is't with you, sir? how is't with you, man? Mal. Go off: I discard you; let me enjoy my private; go off. Mar. Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did not I tell you?-Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a care of him. Mal. Ah, ha! does she so? Sir To. Go to, go to; peace, peace, we must deal gently with him; let me alone. How do you, Malvolio? how is't with you? What man! defy the devil; consider, he's an enemy to mankind. Mal. Do you know what you say? Mal. How now, mistress? Sir To. Pr'ythee, hold thy peace; this is not the way: Do you not see, you move him; let me alone with him. Fab. No way but gentleness; gently, gently; the fiend is rough, and will not be roughly used. Sir To. Why, how now, my bawcock ? how dost thou, chuck? Mal. Sir? Sir To. Ay, biddy, come with me. What, man! 'tis not for gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan: Hang him, foul collier!5 Enter SIR ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK. Sir And. Here's the challenge, read it; I war- Sir And. Ay is it, I warrant him; do but read. Sir To. Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind, why I do call thee so, for I will show thee no reason for't. Fab. A good note: that keeps you from the blow of the law. Sir To. Thou comest to the lady Olivia, and in my sight she uses thee kindly: but thou liest in thy throat, that is not the matter I challenge thee for. it Fab. Very brief, and exceeding good sense-less. Sir To. Thou killest me like a rogue and a villain. Sir To. Fare thee well: And God have mercy upon one of our souls! He may have mercy upon mine; but my hope is better, and so look to thyself. Thy friend, as thou usest him, and thy sworn enemy.– ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK. Sir To. If this letter move him not, his legs cannot: I'll give't him. Mar. You may have very fit occasion for't; he is now in some commerce with my lady, and will by and by depart. Sir To. Go, Sir Andrew; scout me for him at the corner of the orchard, like a bum-bailiff: so soon as ever thou seest him, draw; and, as thou drawest, swear horrible; for it comes to pass oft, that a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent, sharply twanged off, gives manhood more approbation than ever proof itself would have earned him. Away. Sir And. Nay, let me alone for swearing. [Exit. Sir To. Now will I not deliver his letter: for the behaviour of the young gentleman gives him out to be of good capacity and breeding; his employment between his lord and my niece confirms no less; therefore this letter, being so excellently ignorant, will breed no terror in the youth, he will find it comes from a clodpole. But, sir, I will deliver his challenge by word of mouth; set upon Ague-cheek a notable report of valour; and drive the gentleman (as I know his youth will aptly receive it) into a most hideous opinion of his rage, skill, fury, and Mal. Go, hang yourselves all! you are idle shal-impetuosity. This will so fright them both, that low things: I am not of your element; you shall they will kill one another by the look, like cocka Mar. Get him to say his prayers; good Sir Toby, get him to pray. Mal. My prayers, minx? Mar. No, I warrant you, he will not hear of god liness. know more hereafter. Sir To. Is't possible? 1 Caught her as a bird with birdlime. [Exit. trices. 2 Malvolio takes the word in its old favourable sense of companion. 3 See Winter's Tale, Act i. Sc. 5. 4 A play among boys. 5 Collier was in Shakspeare's time a term of the highest reproach. The coal venders were in bad repute, not only from the blackness of their appearance, but that many of them were also great cheats. The devil is called collier for his blackness. Hence the pro- 7 It was usual on the First of May to exhibit metrical interludes of the comic kind, as well as other sports, such as the Morris Dance. 8 Adjectives are often used by Shakspeare and his cotemporaries adverbially. Enter OLIVIA and VIOLA. Fab. Here he comes with your niece: give them [Erennt SIR TOBY, FABIAN, and MARIA. 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 Vio. With the same 'haviour that your passion possibly have found in any part of Illyria: Will bears, Go on my master's griefs. Oli. Here, wear this jewel2 for me, 'tis my pic ture; Refuse it not, it hath no tongue to vex you: master. 05. How with mine honour may I give him that Which I have given to you? Vis. I will acquit you. A fend, like thee, might bear my soul to hell. [Exit. 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 met[Exeunt. tle. Re-enter SIR TOBY, with SIR ANDREW. Sir And. Pox on't, I'll not meddle with him. Sir And. Plague on't: an I thought he had been valiant and so cunning in fence, I'd have seen him the matter slip, and I'll give him my horse, grey damned ere I'd have challenged him. Let him let Capilet. I ride you. [Aside. Sir To. That defence thou hast, betake thee to't: of what nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know not; but thy intercepter, full of despight, Sir To. I'll make the motion: stand here, make bloody as the hunter, attends thee at the orchard a good show on't; this shall end without the perdiend: dismount thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation of souls: Marry, I'll ride your horse as well as tion, for thy assailant is quick, skilful, and deadly. Vio. You mistake, sir; I am sure no man hath any quarrel to me; my remembrance is very free and clear from any image of offence done to any man. Sir Te. You'll find it otherwise, I assure you: therefore, if you hold your life at any price, betake you to your guard; for your opposite hath in him what youth, strength, skill, and wrath, can furnish man withal. Vio. I pray you, sir, what is he? Sir To. He is knight, dubbed with unhatched rapier, and on carpet consideration; but he is a devil in private brawl: souls and bodies hath he divorced tree; 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, Lis 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 medyou must, that's certain, or forswear to wear iron about you. de 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. 1 Uncautiously. 2 Jerel anciently signified any precious ornament of reperfluity. 4 Ready, nimble. 3 Rapier. 51. e. he is a carpet-knight not dubbed in the field, ut on some peaceable occasion; unhatch'd was proba ly used in the sense of unhack'd. But perhaps we should read an hatch'd rapier, i. e. a rapier the hilt of Watch was enriched with silver or gold. A corruption most probably of hab or nab: have have not, hit or miss at a venture. Quasi, hate, or ware, i. e. have not, from the Saxon habban, to have; Re-enter FABIAN and VIOLA. have his horse [to FAB.] to take up the quarrel; I have persuaded him, the youth's a devil. I Fab. He is as horribly conceited' of him; and pants, and looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels. Sir To. There's no remedy, sir; he will fight with you for his oath's 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. Pray God defend me! A little thing would make me tell them how much I lack of a man. [Aside. 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. Enter ANTONIO. Vio. I do assure you, 'tis against my will. [Draws. Ant. Put up your sword;-If this young gentle man Have done offence, I take the fault on me; [Drawing. Sir To. You, sir? why, what are you? nabban, not to have. So, in Holinshed's description of in Jonson's Silent Woman, which was printed in 1609. have never seen the most furious woman so obstrepe11 Firago, for virago. The meaning appears to be, I rous and violent as he is. 12 A corruption of stoccata, an Italian term in fencing 14 He has a horrid conception of him. You do mistake me, sir. 1 Off. No, sir, no jot; I know your favour well. Though now you have no sea-cap on your head.Take him away; he knows, I know him well. Ant. I must obey.-This comes with seeking you; But there's no remedy; I shall answer it. What will you do? Now my necessity Makes me to ask you for my purse: It grieves me Much more, for what I cannot do for you, Than what befalls myself. You stand amaz'd; But be of comfort. 2 Off. Come, sir, away. Ant. I must entreat of you some of that money. Vio. What money, sir? For the fair kindness you have show'd me here, I'll lend you something: my having2 is not much Ant. ; Will you deny me now? Is't possible, that my deserts to you Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery, As to upbraid you with those kindnesses Vio. I know of none; Nor know I you by voice, or any feature: Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, 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'erflourished3 by the devil. 1 Of. The man grows mad; away with him. Come, come, sir. Ant. Lead me on. [Exeunt Officers with ANT. Vio. Methinks, his words do from such passion fly, That he believes himself; so do not I.4 Prove true, imagination, O, prove true, That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you! 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 For him I imitate; O, if it prove, Still in this fashion, colour, ornament, Tempests are kind, and salt waves fresh in love! [Exit. coward than a hare: his dishonesty appears, in Sir To. A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a leaving his friend here in necessity, and denying him; and for his cowardice, ask Fabian. Sir To. Come hither, knight; come hither, Fabian; we'll whisper o'er a couplet or two of most sage saws. 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. [Exit. Sir To. I dare lay any money, 'twill be nothing yet. [Exeunt. ACT IV.-SCENE I. The Street before Olivia's House. Enter SEBASTIAN and Clown. Clo. 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. Clo. Well held out, i'faith! No, I do not know you; nor am I 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 them selves 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. Sir To. Come on, sir; hold. [Exit Clown. [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 its 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 wouldst thou now? If thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword. [Drains. Sir To. What, what! Nay, then I must have an ounce or two of this malapert blood from you. [Draws. 6 A merry Greek, or a foolish Greek were ancient proverbial expressions applied to boon companions, good fellows, as they were called who spent their time in riotous mirth. Whether the Latin pergræcari, of the same import, furnished the phrase or not, it was in use in France and Italy as well as in England. 7 i. e. at a very extravagant price, twelve years' purI chase being then the current price of estates. Enter OLIVIA. Olt. 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 ? Rudesby, be gone ?-I pr'ythee, gentle friend, [Exeunt SIR TOBY, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN. Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway In this uncivil and unjust extent2 Against thy peace. Go with me to my house; And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks This ruffian hath botch'd up,3 that thou thereby May'st smile at this: thou shalt not choose but go; Do not deny: Beshrew his soul for me, He started one poor hearts of mine in thee. 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! Clo. Sir Topas the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio the lunatic. 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. barricadoes,and the clear stories 12 towards the southClo. Why, it hath bay-windows11 transparent as 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 Oli. Nay, come, I pr'ythee: 'Would thou'dst be puzzled than the Egyptians in their fog. rul'd by me! Seb. Madam, I will. Oli. 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. 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 con stant question.13 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, 14 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. Enter SIR TOBY BELCH and MARIA. Sir To. Jove bless thee, master parson. Sir To. To him in thine own voice, and bring me Clo. Bonos dies, Sir Toby: for as the old hermit word how thou findest him; I would, we were well of Prague, that never saw pen and ink, very wittily rid of this knavery. If he may be conveniently de said to a niece of king Gorboduc, That, that is, is:livered, I would he were; for I am now so far in so I, being master parson, am master parson: For what is that, but that? and is, but is ?io Sir To. To him, Sir Topas. Clo. What, hoa, I say;-Peace in this prison! Sir To. The knave counterfeits well: a good knave. Mal. [in an inner chamber.] Who calls there? 5 An equivoque is here intended between hart and heart; they were formerly written alike. 6 i. e. how does this taste? what judgment am I to make of it? 7 i. e. disguise. Shakspeare has here used a Latinism. Dissimulo, to disseinble, to cloak, to hide, says Hutton's Dictionary, 1593. And Ovid, speaking of Achilles 'Veste virum longa dissimulatus erat.' 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,16 Tell me how thy lady does. [Singing. 14 The clown mentions a woodcock because it was proverbial as a foolish bird, and therefore a proper ancestor for a man out of his wits. 15 A proverbial phrase not yet satisfactorily explain. ed. The meaning, however, appears to be I can turn my hand to any thing, or assume any character. Flo9 The modern editors have changed this to fat with- rio in his translation of Montaigne, speaking of Arisout any apparent reason. 9 Confederates. 10 A humorous banter upon the language of the echools. 11 Bay windows were large projecting windows, probably so called because they occupied a whole bay or space between two cross beams in a building. Minshew says a bay window, so called because it is builded in manner of a bay or road for ships, i. e. round.' 12 Clear stories, in Gothic Architecture, denote the row of windows running along the upper part of a lofty hall or of a church, over the arches of the nave: q. d. a clear story, a story without joists, rafters, or flooring. Over each side of the nave is a row of clere story windows.'-Ormerod's Hist. of Cheshire, i. 450. The totle, says he hath an oar in every water, and meddleth with all things.' And in his Second Frutes, there is an expression more resembling the import of that in the text. I am a knight for all saddles. Nash in his Lenten Stuffe, 1599, has almost the language of the clown. He is first broken to the sea in the Herringman's skiffe or cock-boate, where having learned to brooke all waters, and drink as he can out of a tarrie can.' Mason's conjecture, that the allusion is to the water hue or colour of precious stones, is surely inad missible. 16 This ballad may be found in Percy's Reliques of Ancient Poetry, Vol. i. p. 194, ed. 1794. Dr. Not has also printed it among the poems of Sir Thomas Wiatt the elder, p. 188. |