1    Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will
2    not open my lips so wide as a bristle may enter in
3    way of thy excuse: my lady will hang thee for thy absence.

4    Let her hang me: he that is well hanged in this
5    world needs to fear no colours.

6    Make that good.

7    He shall see none to fear.

8    A good lenten answer: I can tell thee where that
9    saying was born, of 'I fear no colours.'

10   Where, good Mistress Mary?

11   In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in your foolery.

12   Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those
13   that are fools, let them use their talents.

14   Yet you will be hanged for being so long absent; or,
15   to be turned away, is not that as good as a hanging to you?

16   Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage; and,
17   for turning away, let summer bear it out.

18   You are resolute, then?

19   Not so, neither; but I am resolved on two points.

20   That if one break, the other will hold; or, if both
21   break, your gaskins fall.

22   Apt, in good faith; very apt. Well, go thy way; if
23   Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a
24   piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria.

25   Peace, you rogue, no more o' that. Here comes my
26   lady: make your excuse wisely, you were best.

27   Wit, an't be thy will, put me into good fooling!
28   Those wits, that think they have thee, do very oft
29   prove fools; and I, that am sure I lack thee, may
30   pass for a wise man: for what says Quinapalus?
31   'Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit.'
Enter OLIVIA with MALVOLIO
32   God bless thee, lady!

33   Take the fool away.

34   Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady.

35   Go to, you're a dry fool; I'll no more of you:
36   besides, you grow dishonest.

37   Two faults, madonna, that drink and good counsel
38   will amend: for give the dry fool drink, then is
39   the fool not dry: bid the dishonest man mend
40   himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if
41   he cannot, let the botcher mend him. Any thing
42   that's mended is but patched: virtue that
43   transgresses is but patched with sin; and sin that
44   amends is but patched with virtue. If that this
45   simple syllogism will serve, so; if it will not,
46   what remedy? As there is no true cuckold but
47   calamity, so beauty's a flower. The lady bade take
48   away the fool; therefore, I say again, take her away.

49   Sir, I bade them take away you.

50   Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, cucullus non
51   facit monachum; that's as much to say as I wear not
52   motley in my brain. Good madonna, give me leave to
53   prove you a fool.

54   Can you do it?

55   Dexterously, good madonna.

56   Make your proof.

57   I must catechise you for it, madonna: good my mouse
58   of virtue, answer me.

59   Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I'll bide your proof.

60   Good madonna, why mournest thou?

61   Good fool, for my brother's death.

62   I think his soul is in hell, madonna.

63   I know his soul is in heaven, fool.

64   The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your brother's
65   soul being in heaven. Take away the fool, gentlemen.

66   What think you of this fool, Malvolio? doth he not mend?

67   Yes, and shall do till the pangs of death shake him:
68   infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever make the
69   better fool.

70   God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the
71   better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will be
72   sworn that I am no fox; but he will not pass his
73   word for two pence that you are no fool.

74   How say you to that, Malvolio?

75   I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such a
76   barren rascal: I saw him put down the other day
77   with an ordinary fool that has no more brain
78   than a stone. Look you now, he's out of his guard
79   already; unless you laugh and minister occasion to
80   him, he is gagged. I protest, I take these wise men,
81   that crow so at these set kind of fools, no better
82   than the fools' zanies.

83   Oh, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste
84   with a distempered appetite. To be generous,
85   guiltless and of free disposition, is to take those
86   things for bird-bolts that you deem cannon-bullets:
87   there is no slander in an allowed fool, though he do
88   nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known discreet
89   man, though he do nothing but reprove.

90   Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for thou
91   speakest well of fools!

92   Madam, there is at the gate a young gentleman much
93   desires to speak with you.

94   From the Count Orsino, is it?

95   I know not, madam: 'tis a fair young man, and well attended.

96   Who of my people hold him in delay?

97   Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman.

98   Fetch him off, I pray you; he speaks nothing but
99   madman: fie on him!
Exit MARIA
100  Go you, Malvolio: if it be a suit from the count, I
101  am sick, or not at home; what you will, to dismiss it.
Exit MALVOLIO
102  Now you see, sir, how your fooling grows old, and
103  people dislike it.

104  Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy eldest
105  son should be a fool; whose skull Jove cram with
106  brains! for,--here he comes,--one of thy kin has a
107  most weak pia mater.

108  By mine honour, half drunk. What is he at the gate, cousin?

109  A gentleman.

110  A gentleman! what gentleman?

111  'Tis a gentle man here--a plague o' these
112  pickle-herring! How now, sot!

113  Good Sir Toby!

114  Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by this lethargy?

115  Lechery! I defy lechery. There's one at the gate.

116  Ay, marry, what is he?

117  Let him be the devil, an he will, I care not: give
118  me faith, say I. Well, it's all one.

119  What's a drunken man like, fool?

120  Like a drowned man, a fool and a mad man: one
121  draught above heat makes him a fool; the second mads
122  him; and a third drowns him.

123  Go thou and seek the crowner, and let him sit o' my
124  coz; for he's in the third degree of drink, he's
125  drowned: go, look after him.

126  He is but mad yet, madonna; and the fool shall look
127  to the madman.

128  Madam, yond young fellow swears he will speak with
129  you. I told him you were sick; he takes on him to
130  understand so much, and therefore comes to speak
131  with you. I told him you were asleep; he seems to
132  have a foreknowledge of that too, and therefore
133  comes to speak with you. What is to be said to him,
134  lady? he's fortified against any denial.

135  Tell him he shall not speak with me.

136  Has been told so; and he says, he'll stand at your
137  door like a sheriff's post, and be the supporter to
138  a bench, but he'll speak with you.

139  What kind o' man is he?

140  Why, of mankind.

141  What manner of man?

142  Of very ill manner; he'll speak with you, will you or no.

143  Of what personage and years is he?

144  Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough for
145  a boy; as a squash is before 'tis a peascod, or a
146  cooling when 'tis almost an apple: 'tis with him
147  in standing water, between boy and man. He is very
148  well-favoured and he speaks very shrewishly; one
149  would think his mother's milk were scarce out of him.

150  Let him approach: call in my gentlewoman.

151  Gentlewoman, my lady calls.

152  Give me my veil: come, throw it o'er my face.
153  We'll once more hear Orsino's embassy.

154  The honourable lady of the house, which is she?

155  Speak to me; I shall answer for her.
156  Your will?

157  Most radiant, exquisite and unmatchable beauty,--I
158  pray you, tell me if this be the lady of the house,
159  for I never saw her: I would be loath to cast away
160  my speech, for besides that it is excellently well
161  penned, I have taken great pains to con it. Good
162  beauties, let me sustain no scorn; I am very
163  comptible, even to the least sinister usage.

164  Whence came you, sir?

165  I can say little more than I have studied, and that
166  question's out of my part. Good gentle one, give me
167  modest assurance if you be the lady of the house,
168  that I may proceed in my speech.

169  Are you a comedian?

170  No, my profound heart: and yet, by the very fangs
171  of malice I swear, I am not that I play. Are you
172  the lady of the house?

173  If I do not usurp myself, I am.

174  Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp
175  yourself; for what is yours to bestow is not yours
176  to reserve. But this is from my commission: I will
177  on with my speech in your praise, and then show you
178  the heart of my message.

179  Come to what is important in't: I forgive you the praise.

180  Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis poetical.

181  It is the more like to be feigned: I pray you,
182  keep it in. I heard you were saucy at my gates,
183  and allowed your approach rather to wonder at you
184  than to hear you. If you be not mad, be gone; if
185  you have reason, be brief: 'tis not that time of
186  moon with me to make one in so skipping a dialogue.

187  Will you hoist sail, sir? here lies your way.

188  No, good swabber; I am to hull here a little
189  longer. Some mollification for your giant, sweet
190  lady. Tell me your mind: I am a messenger.

191  Sure, you have some hideous matter to deliver, when
192  the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak your office.

193  It alone concerns your ear. I bring no overture of
194  war, no taxation of homage: I hold the olive in my
195  hand; my words are as fun of peace as matter.

196  Yet you began rudely. What are you? what would you?

197  The rudeness that hath appeared in me have I
198  learned from my entertainment. What I am, and what I
199  would, are as secret as maidenhead; to your ears,
200  divinity, to any other's, profanation.

201  Give us the place alone: we will hear this divinity.
Exeunt MARIA and Attendants
202  Now, sir, what is your text?

203  Most sweet lady,--

204  A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said of it.
205  Where lies your text?

206  In Orsino's bosom.

207  In his bosom! In what chapter of his bosom?

208  To answer by the method, in the first of his heart.

209  O, I have read it: it is heresy. Have you no more to say?

210  Good madam, let me see your face.

211  Have you any commission from your lord to negotiate
212  with my face? You are now out of your text: but
213  we will draw the curtain and show you the picture.
214  Look you, sir, such a one I was this present: is't
215  not well done?

216  Excellently done, if God did all.

217  'Tis in grain, sir; 'twill endure wind and weather.

218  'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white
219  Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on:
220  Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive,
221  If you will lead these graces to the grave
222  And leave the world no copy.

223  O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will give
224  out divers schedules of my beauty: it shall be
225  inventoried, and every particle and utensil
226  labelled to my will: as, item, two lips,
227  indifferent red; item, two grey eyes, with lids to
228  them; item, one neck, one chin, and so forth. Were
229  you sent hither to praise me?

230  I see you what you are, you are too proud;
231  But, if you were the devil, you are fair.
232  My lord and master loves you: O, such love
233  Could be but recompensed, though you were crown'd
234  The nonpareil of beauty!

235  How does he love me?

236  With adorations, fertile tears,
237  With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.

238  Your lord does know my mind; I cannot love him:
239  Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble,
240  Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth;
241  In voices well divulged, free, learn'd and valiant;
242  And in dimension and the shape of nature
243  A gracious person: but yet I cannot love him;
244  He might have took his answer long ago.

245  If I did love you in my master's flame,
246  With such a suffering, such a deadly life,
247  In your denial I would find no sense;
248  I would not understand it.

249  Why, what would you?

250  Make me a willow cabin at your gate,
251  And call upon my soul within the house;
252  Write loyal cantons of contemned love
253  And sing them loud even in the dead of night;
254  Halloo your name to the reverberate hills
255  And make the babbling gossip of the air
256  Cry out 'Olivia!' O, You should not rest
257  Between the elements of air and earth,
258  But you should pity me!

259  You might do much.
260  What is your parentage?

261  Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:
262  I am a gentleman.

263  Get you to your lord;
264  I cannot love him: let him send no more;
265  Unless, perchance, you come to me again,
266  To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well:
267  I thank you for your pains: spend this for me.

268  I am no fee'd post, lady; keep your purse:
269  My master, not myself, lacks recompense.
270  Love make his heart of flint that you shall love;
271  And let your fervor, like my master's, be
272  Placed in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty.

273  'What is your parentage?'
274  'Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:
275  I am a gentleman.' I'll be sworn thou art;
276  Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions and spirit,
277  Do give thee five-fold blazon: not too fast:
278  soft, soft!
279  Unless the master were the man. How now!
280  Even so quickly may one catch the plague?
281  Methinks I feel this youth's perfections
282  With an invisible and subtle stealth
283  To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.
284  What ho, Malvolio!

285  Here, madam, at your service.

286  Run after that same peevish messenger,
287  The county's man: he left this ring behind him,
288  Would I or not: tell him I'll none of it.
289  Desire him not to flatter with his lord,
290  Nor hold him up with hopes; I am not for him:
291  If that the youth will come this way to-morrow,
292  I'll give him reasons for't: hie thee, Malvolio.

293  Madam, I will.

294  I do I know not what, and fear to find
295  Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind.
296  Fate, show thy force: ourselves we do not owe;
297  What is decreed must be, and be this so.