is not the way: do you not see you move him? let me alone with him.
| Fabian |
No way but gentleness; gently, gently: the fiend is rough, and will not be roughly used. |
| Sir Toby |
Why, how now, my bawcock! how dost thou, chuck? |
| Malvolio |
Sir! |
| Sir Toby |
Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, man! ’tis not for gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan: hang him, foul collier! |
| Maria |
Get him to say his prayers, good Sir Toby, get him to pray. |
| Malvolio |
My prayers, minx! |
| Maria |
No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godliness. |
| Malvolio |
Go, hang yourselves all! you are idle shallow things: I am not of your element: you shall know more hereafter. Exit. |
| Sir Toby |
Is’t possible? |
| Fabian |
If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction. |
| Sir Toby |
His very genius hath taken the infection of the device, man. |
| Maria |
Nay, pursue him now, lest the device take air and taint. |
| Fabian |
Why, we shall make him mad indeed. |
| Maria |
The house will be the quieter. |
| Sir Toby |
Come, we’ll have him in a dark room and bound. My niece is already in the belief that he’s mad: we may carry it thus, for our pleasure and his penance, till our very pastime, tired out of breath, prompt us to have mercy on him: at which time we will bring the device to the bar and crown thee for a finder of madmen. But see, but see. |
|
Enter Sir Andrew. |
| Fabian |
More matter for a May morning. |
| Sir Andrew |
Here’s the challenge, read it: I warrant there’s vinegar and pepper in’t. |
| Fabian |
Is’t so saucy? |
| Sir Andrew |
Ay, is’t, I warrant him: do but read. |
| Sir Toby |
Give me. Reads.
“Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art but a scurvy fellow.”
|
| Fabian |
Good, and valiant. |
| Sir Toby |
Reads.
“Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind, why I do call thee so, for I will show thee no reason for’t.”
|
| Fabian |
A good note; that keeps you from the blow of the law. |
| Sir Toby |
Reads.
“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.”
|
| Fabian |
Very brief, and to exceeding good sense—less. |
| Sir Toby |
Reads.
“I will waylay thee going home; where if it be thy chance to kill me,”—
|
| Fabian |
Good. |
| Sir Toby |
Reads.
“Thou killest me like a rogue and a villain.”
|
| Fabian |
Still you keep o’ the windy side of the law: good. |
| Sir Toby |
Reads.
“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,
If this letter move him not, his legs cannot: I’ll give’t him.
|
| Maria |
You may have very fit occasion for’t: he is now in some commerce with my lady, and will by and by depart. |
| Sir Toby |
Go, Sir Andrew: scout me for him at the corner the orchard like a bum-baily: 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 Andrew |
Nay, let me alone for swearing. Exit. |
| Sir Toby |
Now will not I 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 Aguecheek 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 impetuosity. This will so fright them both that they will kill one another by the look, like cockatrices. |
|
Re-enter Olivia, with Viola. |
| Fabian |
Here he comes with your niece: give them way till he take leave, and presently after him. |
| Sir Toby |
I will meditate the while upon some horrid message for a challenge. Exeunt Sir Toby, Fabian, and Maria. |
| Olivia |
I have said too much unto a heart of stone
And laid mine honour too unchary out:
There’s something in me that reproves my fault;
But such a headstrong potent fault it is,
That it but mocks reproof.
|
| Viola |
With the same ’havior that your passion bears
Goes on my master’s grief.
|
| Olivia |
Here, wear this jewel for me, ’tis my picture;
Refuse it not; it hath no tongue to vex you;
And I beseech you come again to-morrow.
What shall you ask of me that I’ll deny,
That honour saved may upon asking give?
|
| Viola |
Nothing but this; your true love for my master. |
| Olivia |
How with mine honour may I give him that
Which I have given to you?
|
| Viola |
I will acquit you. |
| Olivia |
Well, come again to-morrow: fare thee well:
A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell. Exit.
|
|
Re-enter Sir Toby and Fabian. |
| Sir Toby |
Gentleman, God save thee. |
| Viola |
And you, sir. |
| Sir Toby |
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 despite, bloody as the hunter, attends thee at the orchard-end: dismount thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation, for thy assailant is quick, skilful and deadly. |
| Viola |
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 Toby |
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. |
| Viola |
I pray you, sir, what is he? |
| Sir Toby |
He is knight, |
