Twelfth Night; or, What You Will

[Smiles fantastically.

Oli. Smilest thou?

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. Heaven 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.

Oli. What mean'st thou by that, Malvolio?

Mal.Some are born great, —

Oli. Ha?

Mal.Some achieve greatness, —

Oli. What say'st thou?

Mal.And some have greatness thrust upon them.

Oli. Heaven restore thee!

Mal.Remember who commended thy yellow stockings; —

Oli. Thy yellow stockings?

MalAnd wished to see thee cross-garter'd.

Oli. Cross-garter'd?

Mal.Go to: thou art made, if thou desirest to be so; —

Oli. Am I made?

Mal.If not, let me see thee a servant still.

Oli. Why, this is very Midsummer madness.

Enter Fabian.

Fab. Madam, the young gentleman of the Duke Orsino's is returned; I could hardly entreat him back: he attends your ladyship's pleasure.

Oli. I'll come to him. Good Maria, let this fellow be look'd to. – Call my uncle Toby.

[Exit Fabian.

Let some of my people have a special care of him; I would not have him miscarry for the half of my dowry.

[Exeunt Olivia and Maria.

Mal. Oh, ho! do you come near me now? No worse man than Sir Toby to look to me? She sends him on purpose, that I may appear stubborn to him; for she incites me to that in the letter. I have limed her. – 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. – Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked.

Sir To. [Without] 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.

Enter Fabian, Sir Toby, and Maria.

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; we must deal gently with him. 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?

Mar. La you, an you speak ill of the devil, how he takes it at heart! Pray, heaven, he be not bewitch'd.

Fab. Carry his water to the wise woman.

Sir To. Pr'ythee, hold thy peace; 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!