Twelfth Night; Or, What You Will

that has no more brain than a stone. Look you now, he's out of
his guard already; unless you laugh and minister occasion to him,
he is gagg'd. I protest I take these wise men that crow so at
these set kind of fools no better than the fools' zanies.

OLIVIA. O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste with a
distemper'd appetite. To be generous, guiltless, and of free
disposition, is to take those things for bird-bolts that you deem
cannon bullets. There is no slander in an allow'd fool, though he
do nothing but rail; nor no railing in known discreet man, though
he do nothing but reprove.

CLOWN. Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for thou speak'st well
of fools!

Re-enter MARIA

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

OLIVIA. From the Count Orsino, is it?

MARIA. I know not, madam; 'tis a fair young man, and well attended.

OLIVIA. Who of my people hold him in delay?

MARIA. Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman.

OLIVIA. Fetch him off, I pray you; he speaks nothing but madman.
Fie on him! [Exit MARIA] Go you, Malvolio: if it be a suit from
the Count, I am sick, or not at home- what you will to dismiss
it. [Exit MALVOLIO] Now you see, sir, how your fooling grows old,
and people dislike it.

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

Enter SIR TOBY

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

SIR TOBY. A gentleman.

OLIVIA. A gentleman! What gentleman?

SIR TOBY. 'Tis a gentleman here. [Hiccups] A plague o' these
pickle-herring! How now, sot!

CLOWN. Good Sir Toby!

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

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

OLIVIA. Ay, marry; what is he?

SIR TOBY. Let him be the devil an he will, I care not; give me
faith, say I. Well, it's all one. Exit

OLIVIA. What's a drunken man like, fool?

CLOWN. Like a drown'd man, a fool, and a madman: one draught above
heat makes him a fool; the second mads him; and a third drowns him.

OLIVIA. Go thou and seek the crowner, and let him sit o' my coz;
for he's in the third degree of drink, he's drown'd; go look  after him.

CLOWN. He is but mad yet, madonna, and the fool shall look to the
madman. Exit

Re-enter MALVOLIO

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

OLIVIA. Tell him he shall not speak with me.

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

OLIVIA. What kind o' man is he?

MALVOLIO. Why, of mankind.

OLIVIA. What manner of man?

MALVOLIO. Of very ill manner; he'll speak with you, will you or no.
OLIVIA. Of what personage and years is he?

MALVOLIO. Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough for a boy;
boy;
as a squash is before 'tis a peascod, or a codling when 'tis
almost an apple; 'tis with him in standing water, between boy and
and