The Complete Works of William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare (book suggestions TXT) 📖

firm, You should find better dealing. What’s to do?

Shall we go see the reliques of this town?

ANTONIO. Tomorrow, sir; best first go see your lodging.

SEBASTIAN. I am not weary, and ‘tis long to night; I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes

With the memorials and the things of fame That do renown this city.

ANTONIO. Would you’d pardon me.

I do not without danger walk these streets: Once in a sea-fight ‘gainst the Count his galleys I did some service; of such note, indeed, That, were I ta’en here, it would scarce be answer’d.

SEBASTIAN. Belike you slew great number of his people.

ANTONIO.Th’ offence is not of such a bloody nature; Albeit the quality of the time and quarrel Might well have given us bloody argument.

It might have since been answer’d in repaying What we took from them; which, for traffic’s sake, Most of our city did. Only myself stood out; For which, if I be lapsed in this place, I shall pay dear.

SEBASTIAN. Do not then walk too open.

ANTONIO. It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here’s my purse; In the south suburbs, at the Elephant, Is best to lodge. I will bespeak our diet, Whiles you beguile the time and feed your knowledge With viewing of the town; there shall you have me.

SEBASTIAN. Why I your purse?

ANTONIO. Haply your eye shall light upon some toy You have desire to purchase; and your store, I think, is not for idle markets, sir.

SEBASTIAN. I’ll be your purse-bearer, and leave you for An hour.

ANTONIO. To th’ Elephant.

SEBASTIAN. I do remember. Exeunt

SCENE IV.

OLIVIA’S garden

 

Enter OLIVIA and MARIA

 

OLIVIA. I have sent after him; he says he’ll come.

How shall I feast him? What bestow of him?

For youth is bought more oft than begg’d or borrow’d.

I speak too loud.

Where’s Malvolio? He is sad and civil, And suits well for a servant with my fortunes.

Where is Malvolio?

MARIA. He’s coming, madam; but in very strange manner.

He is sure possess’d, madam.

OLIVIA. Why, what’s the matter? Does he rave?

MARIA. No, madam, he does nothing but smile. Your ladyship were best to have some guard about you if he come; for sure the man is tainted in’s wits.

OLIVIA. Go call him hither. Exit MARIA I am as mad as he,

If sad and merry madness equal be.

 

Re-enter MARIA with MALVOLIO

 

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?

SIR TOBY. How is’t with you, man?

MALVOLIO. Go off; I discard you. Let me enjoy my private; go off.

MARIA. 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.

MALVOLIO. Ah, ha! does she so?

SIR TOBY. Go to, go to; peace, peace; we must deal gently with him.

Let me alone. How do you, Malvolio? How is’t with you? What, man, defy the devil; consider, he’s an enemy to mankind.

MALVOLIO. Do you know what you say?

MARIA. La you, an you speak ill of the devil, how he takes it at heart! Pray God he be not bewitched.

FABIAN. Carry his water to th’ wise woman.

MARIA. Marry, and it shall be done tomorrow morning, if I live. My lady would not lose him for more than I’ll say.

MALVOLIO. How now, mistress!

MARIA. O Lord!

SIR TOBY. Prithee hold thy peace; this 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 us’d.

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 cherrypit 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 play’d 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.

AGUECHEEK. Here’s the challenge; read it. I warrant there’s vinegar and pepper in’t.

FABIAN. Is’t so saucy?

AGUECHEEK. 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 com’st 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 senseless.

SIR TOBY. [Reads] ‘I will waylay thee going home; where if it be thy chance to kill me’-

FABIAN. Good.

SIR TOBY. ‘Thou kill’st me like a rogue and a villain.’

FABIAN. Still you keep o’ th’ 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,

ANDREW AGUECHEEK.’

 

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 of the orchard, like a bum-baily; so soon as ever thou seest him, draw; and as thou draw’st, swear horrible; for it comes to pass oft that a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent sharply twang’d off, gives manhood more approbation than ever proof itself would have earn’d him. Away.

AGUECHEEK. 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 notable report of valour, and drive the gentleman-as 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 haviour that your passion bears Goes on my master’s griefs.

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 tomorrow.

What shall you ask of me that I’ll deny, That honour sav’d may upon asking give?

VIOLA. Nothing but this-your true love for my master.

OLIVIA. How with mine honour may I give him