ACT II. SCENE V.
OLIVIA'S garden
Enter SIR TOBY, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN
| SIR TOBY. | Come thy ways, Signior Fabian.
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| FABIAN. | Nay, I'll come; if I lose a scruple of this sport let me be
boil'd to death with melancholy.
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| SIR TOBY. | Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly rascally
sheep-biter come by some notable shame?
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| FABIAN. | I would exult, man; you know he brought me out o' favour
with my lady about a bear-baiting here.
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| SIR TOBY. | To anger him we'll have the bear again; and we will fool
him black and blue- shall we not, Sir Andrew?
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| AGUECHEEK. | And we do not, it is pity of our lives.
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Enter MARIA
| SIR TOBY. | Here comes the little villain.
How now, my metal of India!
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| MARIA. | write_ads(1,1)> Get ye all three into the box-tree. Malvolio's coming down
this walk. He has been yonder i' the sun practising behaviour to
his own shadow this half hour. Observe him, for the love of
mockery, for I know this letter will make a contemplative idiot
of him. Close, in the name of jesting! [As the men hide she drops
a letter] Lie thou there; for here comes the trout that must be
caught with tickling.
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Exit
Enter MALVOLIO
| MALVOLIO. | 'Tis but fortune; all is fortune. Maria once told me she
did affect me; and I have heard herself come thus near, that,
should she fancy, it should be one of my complexion. Besides, she
uses me with a more exalted respect than any one else that
follows her. What should I think on't?
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| SIR TOBY. | Here's an overweening rogue!
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| FABIAN. | O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him;
how he jets under his advanc'd plumes!
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| AGUECHEEK. | write_ads(1,1)> 'Slight, I could so beat the rogue-
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| SIR TOBY. | Peace, I say.
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| MALVOLIO. | To be Count Malvolio!
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| SIR TOBY. | Ah, rogue!
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| AGUECHEEK. | Pistol him, pistol him.
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| SIR TOBY. | Peace, peace!
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| MALVOLIO. | There is example for't: the Lady of the Strachy married
the yeoman of the wardrobe.
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| AGUECHEEK. | Fie on him, Jezebel!
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| FABIAN. | O, peace! Now he's deeply in; look how imagination blows
him.
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| MALVOLIO. | Having been three months married to her, sitting in my
state-
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| SIR TOBY. | O, for a stone-bow to hit him in the eye!
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| MALVOLIO. | Calling my officers about me, in my branch'd velvet gown,
having come from a day-bed- where I have left Olivia sleeping-
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| SIR TOBY. | Fire and brimstone!
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| FABIAN. | O, peace, peace!
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| MALVOLIO. | And then to have the humour of state; and after a demure
travel of regard, telling them I know my place as I would they
should do theirs, to ask for my kinsman Toby-
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| SIR TOBY. | Bolts and shackles!
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| FABIAN. | O, peace, peace, peace! Now, now.
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| MALVOLIO. | Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for
him. I frown the while, and perchance wind up my watch, or play
with my- some rich jewel. Toby approaches; curtsies there to me-
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| SIR TOBY. | Shall this fellow live?
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| FABIAN. | Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace.
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| MALVOLIO. | I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar smile
with an austere regard of control-
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| SIR TOBY. | And does not Toby take you a blow o' the lips then?
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| MALVOLIO. | Saying 'Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast me on your
niece give me this prerogative of speech'-
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| SIR TOBY. | What, what?
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| MALVOLIO. | 'You must amend your drunkenness'-
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| SIR TOBY. | Out, scab!
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| FABIAN. | Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot.
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| MALVOLIO. | 'Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a
foolish knight'-
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| AGUECHEEK. | That's me, I warrant you.
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| MALVOLIO. | 'One Sir Andrew.'
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| AGUECHEEK. | I knew 'twas I; for many do call me fool.
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| MALVOLIO. | What employment have we here?
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[Taking up the letter]
| FABIAN. | Now is the woodcock near the gin.
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| SIR TOBY. | O, peace! And the spirit of humours intimate reading
aloud to him!
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| MALVOLIO. | By my life, this is my lady's hand: these be her very
C's, her U's, and her T's; and thus makes she her great P's. It
is, in contempt of question, her hand.
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| AGUECHEEK. | Her C's, her U's, and her T's. Why that?
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| MALVOLIO. | [Reads] 'To the unknown belov'd, this, and my good
wishes.' Her very phrases! By your leave, wax. Soft! And the
impressure her Lucrece with which she uses to seal; 'tis my lady.
To whom should this be?
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| FABIAN. | This wins him, liver and all.
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| MALVOLIO. | [Reads]
Jove knows I love,
But who?
Lips, do not move;
No man must know.'
'No man must know.' What follows? The numbers alter'd!
'No man must know.' If this should be thee, Malvolio?
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| SIR TOBY. | Marry, hang thee, brock!
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| MALVOLIO. | [Reads]
'I may command where I adore;
But silence, like a Lucrece knife,
With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore;
M. O. A. I. doth sway my life.'
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| FABIAN. | A fustian riddle!
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| SIR TOBY. | Excellent wench, say I.
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| MALVOLIO. | 'M. O. A. I. doth sway my life.'
Nay, but first let me see, let me see, let me see.
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| FABIAN. | What dish o' poison has she dress'd him!
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| SIR TOBY. | And with what wing the staniel checks at it!
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| MALVOLIO. | 'I may command where I adore.' Why, she may command me: I
serve her; she is my lady. Why, this is evident to any formal
capacity; there is no obstruction in this. And the end- what
should that alphabetical position portend? If I could make that
resemble something in me. Softly! M. O. A. I.-
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| SIR TOBY. | O, ay, make up that! He is now at a cold scent.
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| FABIAN. | Sowter will cry upon't for all this, though it be as rank
as a fox.
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| MALVOLIO. | M- Malvolio; M- why, that begins my name.
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| FABIAN. | Did not I say he would work it out?
The cur is excellent at faults.
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| MALVOLIO. | M- But then there is no consonancy in the sequel; that
suffers under probation: A should follow, but O does.
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| FABIAN. | And O shall end, I hope.
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| SIR TOBY. | Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make him cry 'O!'
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| MALVOLIO. | And then I comes behind.
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| FABIAN. | Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you might see more
detraction at your heels than fortunes before you.
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| MALVOLIO. | M. O. A. I. This simulation is not as the former; and
yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every
one of these letters are in my name. Soft! here follows prose. [Reads]
'If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I am
above thee; but be not afraid of greatness. Some are born great,
some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon
'em. Thy Fates open their hands; let thy blood and spirit embrace
them;and, to inure thyself to what thou art like to be, cast thy
humble slough and appear fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman,
surly with servants; let thy tongue tang arguments of state; put
thyself into the trick of singularity. She thus advises thee
that sighs for thee. Remember who commended thy yellow
stockings,and wish'd to see thee ever cross-garter'd. I
say,remember,Go to,thou art made, if thou desir'st to be so; if not,
let me see thee a steward still, the fellow of servants, and not
worthy to touch Fortune's fingers. Farewell. She that would alter
services with thee, THE FORTUNATE-UNHAPPY.'
Daylight and champain discovers not more. This is open. I
will be proud, I will read politic authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I
will wash off gross acquaintance, I will be point-devise the
very man. I do not now fool myself to let imagination jade me; for
every reason excites to this, that my lady loves me. She did
commend my yellow stockings of late, she did praise my leg
being cross-garter'd; and in this she manifests herself to my love,
and with a kind of injunction drives me to these habits of her
liking. I thank my stars I am happy. I will be strange,
stout, in yellow stockings, and cross-garter'd, even with the
swiftness of putting on. Jove and my stars be praised! Here is yet a postscript.
[Reads] 'Thou canst not choose but know who I am. If thou
entertain'st my love, let it appear in thy smiling; thy
smiles become thee well. Therefore in my presence still smile, dear
my sweet, I prithee.' Jove, I thank thee. I will smile; I will do everything that thou wilt have me
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Exit
| FABIAN. | I will not give my part of this sport for a pension of
thousands to be paid from the Sophy.
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| SIR TOBY. | I could marry this wench for this device.
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| AGUECHEEK. | So could I too.
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| SIR TOBY. | And ask no other dowry with her but such another jest.
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Enter MARIA
| AGUECHEEK. | Nor I neither.
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| FABIAN. | Here comes my noble gull-catcher.
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| SIR TOBY. | Wilt thou set thy foot o' my neck?
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| AGUECHEEK. | Or o' mine either?
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| SIR TOBY. | Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and become thy
bond-slave?
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| AGUECHEEK. | I' faith, or I either?
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| SIR TOBY. | Why, thou hast put him in such a dream that when the
image of it leaves him he must run mad.
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| MARIA. | Nay, but say true; does it work upon him?
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| SIR TOBY. | Like aqua-vita! with a midwife.
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| AIARIA. | If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark his
first approach before my lady. He will come to her in yellow
stockings, and 'tis a colour she abhors, and cross-garter'd, a
fashion she detests; and he will smile upon her, which will now
be so unsuitable to her disposition, being addicted to a
melancholy as she is, that it cannot but turn him into a notable
contempt. If you will see it, follow me.
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| SIR TOBY. | To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit!
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| AGUECHEEK. | I'll make one too
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Exeunt
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