Twelfth Night; Or, What You Will

How now, Malvolio!

MALVOLIO. Sweet lady, ho, ho.

OLIVIA. Smil'st thou?
I sent for thee upon a sad occasion.

MALVOLIO. 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.'

OLIVIA. Why, how dost thou, man? What is the matter with thee?

MALVOLIO. 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.

OLIVIA. Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio?

MALVOLIO. To bed? Ay, sweetheart, and I'll come to thee.

OLIVIA. God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so, and kiss thy hand so oft?

MARIA. How do you, Malvolio?

MALVOLIO. At your request? Yes, nightingales answer daws!

MARIA. Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady?

MALVOLIO. 'Be not afraid of greatness.' 'Twas well writ.

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

AIALVOLIO. 'Some are born great,'-

OLIVIA. Ha?

MALVOLIO. 'Some achieve greatness,'-

OLIVIA. What say'st thou?

MALVOLIO. 'And some have greatness thrust upon them.'

OLIVIA. Heaven restore thee!

MALVOLIO. 'Remember who commended thy yellow stockings,'-

OLIVIA. 'Thy yellow stockings?'

MALVOLIO. 'And wish'd to see thee cross-garterd.'

OLIVIA. 'Cross-garter'd?'

MALVOLIO. 'Go to, thou an made, if thou desir'st to be so'; -

OLIVIA. Am I made?

MALVOLIO. 'If not, let me see thee a servant still.'

OLIVIA. Why, this is very midsummer madness.

Enter SERVANT

SERVANT. Madam, the young gentleman of the Count Orsino's is
return'd; I could hardly entreat him back; he attends your
ladyship's pleasure.

OLIVIA. I'll come to him. [Exit SERVANT] Good Maria, let this
fellow be look'd to. Where's my cousin Toby? 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
MALVOLIO. O, 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 purpose, that I may appear stubborn to him; for she
incites me to that in the letter. 'Cast thy humble slough,' says
she. 'Be opposite with kinsman, surly with servants; let thy
tongue tang with arguments of state; put thyself into the trick
of singularity' and consequently sets down the manner how, as: a
sad face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in the habit of
some sir of note, and so forth. I have lim'd her; but it is
Jove's doing, and Jove make me thankful! And when she went away
now- 'Let this fellow be look'd to.' 'Fellow,' not 'Malvolio' nor
after my degree, but 'fellow.' Why, everything 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 and FABIAN

SIR TOBY. Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all the
devils of hell be drawn in little, and Legion himself possess'd
him, yet I'll speak to him.

FABIAN. Here he is, here he is. How is't with you, sir?