Part 25
_Clo._ Nay, I'll ne'er believe a madman till I see his brains. I will fetch you light and paper and ink.
_Mal._ Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree: I prithee, be gone. 115
_Clo._ [_Singing_] I am gone, sir, And anon, sir, I'll be with you again, In a trice, Like to the old vice, 120 Your need to sustain;
Who, with dagger of lath, In his rage and his wrath, Cries, ah, ha! to the devil: Like a mad lad, 125 Pare thy nails, dad; Adieu, goodman Drivel. [_Exit._
LINENOTES:
## SCENE II.] SCENE III. Pope.
OLIVIA'S house.] Rowe.
[3] [Exit.] Exit M. Theobald.
[6] _tall_] _fat_ Reed (1803) (Farmer conj.). _pale_ Tyrwhitt conj. _of taille_ Becket conj.
[7] _student_] _studient_ F1.
[9] _careful_] _graceful_ Hanmer (Warburton).
[10] Enter Sir T. and M.] Theobald. Enter Toby. Ff.
[11] _Jove_] _God_ Edd. conj.
[11, 14, 15, 27] _master_] _M._ Ff and passim.
[13] _Prague_] Rowe. _Prage_ F1 F2 F3. _Prauge_ F4.
[14] _Gorboduc_] _Gorboduck_ Pope. _Gorbodacke_ F1 F2 F4. _Gorbodack_ F3.
[18] [rapping at an inner door. Capell.
[20] Mal. [within] Malvolio within (as a stage direction) Mal. Ff.
[26] _nothing but of_] _of nothing but_ Anon. conj.
[33] _that_] _this_ Rann. _the_ or _that_ _the_ Anon. conj.
[37] _clearstores_] _cleere stores_ F1. _cleare stones_ F2. _clear stones_ F3 F4. _clear stories_ Boswell (Blakeway conj.).
[49] _wild fowl_] _the soul_ Theobald conj.
[50] _haply_] Capell. _happily_ Ff.
[58] _soul_] _soule_ F1. _house_ F2 F3 F4.
[61] _waters_] _wanters_ or _ventures_ Anon. conj.
[65] _well_] F1. _all_ F2 F3 F4. _all well_ Collier MS.
[68] _to the upshot_] Rowe. _the upshot_ Ff.
[69] _chamber_] _champer_ F2.
[Exeunt....] Exit with Maria. Theobald. Exit Ff.
[70] SCENE IV. Pope.
[Singing] Rowe.
[70, 71] _Hey ... does._] _Hey, jolly Robin, tell to me, How does thy lady do?_ Farmer conj.
[71] _thy_] _my_ Rowe (ed. 2).
[83] _besides_] _beside_ Capell conj.
[86] _you are_] _thou art_ Rowe (ed. 2).
[88] _have here_] _have_ Pope.
[96] _be wi' you_] _buy you_ Ff. _b' w' you_ Pope.
[97] _sir, I will_] F1. _sir, I will sir_ F2 F3 F4.
[109, 110] _are you not_] _are you_ Johnson conj.
[110] _or_] _and_ Malone conj.
[116-127] Arranged as in Capell. As eight lines in Ff.
[116] [Singing] Rowe. on. Ff.
[119, 120] _In a trice, Like to the_] _With a trice, Like the_ Collier MS. _With a trice, Like to the_ Collier (ed. 2).
[126] _dad;_] _dad,_ Ff. _dad?_ Farmer conj.
[127] _goodman Drivel_] Rowe (ed. 2). _good man diuell_ F1. _good man Direll_ F2. _good man Devil_ F3 F4. _goodman Mean-evil_ Johnson conj. _good Mean-evil_ Mason conj. _goodman Civil,_ or _good man, be civil_ Anon. conj.
## SCENE III. OLIVIA'S _garden_.
_Enter_ SEBASTIAN.
_Seb._ This is the air; that is the glorious sun; This pearl she gave me, I do feel't and see't; And though 'tis wonder that enwraps me thus, Yet 'tis not madness. Where's Antonio, then? I could not find him at the Elephant: 5 Yet there he was; and there I found this credit, That he did range the town to seek me out. His counsel now might do me golden service; For though my soul disputes well with my sense, That this may be some error, but no madness, 10 Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune So far exceed all instance, all discourse, That I am ready to distrust mine eyes And wrangle with my reason, that persuades me To any other trust but that I am mad, 15 Or else the lady's mad; yet, if 'twere so, She could not sway her house, command her followers, Take and give back affairs and their dispatch With such a smooth, discreet, and stable bearing As I perceive she does: there's something in't 20 That is deceivable. But here the lady comes.
_Enter_ OLIVIA _and_ Priest.
_Oli._ Blame not this haste of mine. If you mean well, Now go with me and with this holy man Into the chantry by: there, before him, And underneath that consecrated roof, 25 Plight me the full assurance of your faith; That my most jealous and too doubtful soul May live at peace. He shall conceal it Whiles you are willing it shall come to note, What time we will our celebration keep 30 According to my birth. What do you say?
_Seb._ I'll follow this good man, and go with you; And, having sworn truth, ever will be true.
_Oliv._ Then lead the way, good father; and heavens so shine, That they may fairly note this act of mine! [_Exeunt._ 35
LINENOTES:
## SCENE III.] SCENE V. Pope.
OLIVIA'S garden.] Capell. Another apartment in O.'s house. Theobald.
[6] _this credit_] _in credit_ Becket conj. _this credit_ [He takes a letter from his pocket] Jackson conj.
_credit_] F3 F4. _credite_ F1 F2. _credent_ Theobald conj. _current_ Hanmer. _credited_ Mason conj.
[15] _I am_] _I'm_ Pope.
[18] _affairs and their dispatch_] _and thus dispatch affairs_ Collier (Collier MS.).
[21] _the lady comes_] _she comes_ Pope. _comes the lady_ Steevens.
[27] _jealous_] _iealious_ F1.
[28] _live_] _henceforth live_ Hanmer.
[29] _Whiles_] _While_ Grant White.
[34] _and heavens_] F1 F2. _and heaven_ F3 F4. _heav'ns_ Pope.
[35] [Exeunt.] Exeunt. Finis Actus Quartus. F1. Finis actus Quarti. F2 F3 F4.
## ACT V.
## SCENE I. _Before_ OLIVIA'S _house_.
_Enter_ Clown _and_ FABIAN.
_Fab._ Now, as thou lovest me, let me see his letter.
_Clo._ Good Master Fabian, grant me another request.
_Fab._ Any thing.
_Clo._ Do not desire to see this letter.
_Fab._ This is, to give a dog, and in recompense desire 5 my dog again.
_Enter_ DUKE, VIOLA, CURIO, _and_ Lords.
_Duke._ Belong you to the Lady Olivia, friends?
_Clo._ Ay, sir; we are some of her trappings.
_Duke._ I know thee well: how dost thou, my good fellow?
_Clo._ Truly, sir, the better for my foes and the worse 10 for my friends.
_Duke._ Just the contrary; the better for thy friends.
_Clo._ No, sir, the worse.
_Duke._ How can that be?
_Clo._ Marry, sir, they praise me and make an ass of 15 me; now my foes tell me plainly I am an ass: so that by my foes, sir, I profit in the knowledge of myself; and by my friends I am abused: so that, conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives make your two affirmatives, why then, the worse for my friends, and the better for my foes. 20
_Duke._ Why, this is excellent.
_Clo._ By my troth, sir, no; though it please you to be one of my friends.
_Duke._ Thou shalt not be the worse for me: there's gold.
_Clo._ But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I would 25 you could make it another.
_Duke._ O, you give me ill counsel.
_Clo._ Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this once, and let your flesh and blood obey it.
_Duke._ Well, I will be so much a sinner, to be a double-dealer: 30 there's another.
_Clo._ Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play; and the old saying is, the third pays for all: the triplex, sir, is a good tripping measure; or the bells of Saint Bennet, sir, may put you in mind; one, two, three. 35
_Duke._ You can fool no more money out of me at this throw: if you will let your lady know I am here to speak with her, and bring her along with you, it may awake my bounty further.
_Clo._ Marry, sir, lullaby to your bounty till I come again. 40 I go, sir; but I would not have you to think that my desire of having is the sin of covetousness: but, as you say, sir, let your bounty take a nap, I will awake it anon. [_Exit._
_Vio._ Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me.
_Enter_ ANTONIO _and_ Officers.
_Duke._ That face of his I do remember well; 45 Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmear'd As black as Vulcan in the smoke of war: A bawbling vessel was he captain of, For shallow draught and bulk unprizable; With which such scathful grapple did he make 50 With the most noble bottom of our fleet, That very envy and the tongue of loss Cried fame and honour on him. What's the matter?
_First Off._ Orsino, this is that Antonio That took the Phoenix and her fraught from Candy; 55 And this is he that did the Tiger board, When your young nephew Titus lost his leg: Here in the streets, desperate of shame and state, In private brabble did we apprehend him.
_Vio._ He did me kindness, sir, drew on my side; 60 But in conclusion put strange speech upon me: I know not what 'twas but distraction.
_Duke._ Notable pirate! thou salt-water thief! What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies, Whom thou, in terms so bloody and so dear, 65 Hast made thine enemies?
_Ant._ Orsino, noble sir, Be pleased that I shake off these names you give me: Antonio never yet was thief or pirate, Though I confess, on base and ground enough, Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither: 70 That most ingrateful boy there by your side, From the rude sea's enraged and foamy mouth Did I redeem; a wreck past hope he was: His life I gave him and did thereto add My love, without retention or restraint, 75 All his in dedication; for his sake Did I expose myself, pure for his love, Into the danger of this adverse town; Drew to defend him when he was beset: Where being apprehended, his false cunning, 80 Not meaning to partake with me in danger, Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance, And grew a twenty years removed thing While one would wink; denied me mine own purse, Which I had recommended to his use 85 Not half an hour before.
_Vio._ How can this be?
_Duke._ When came he to this town?
_Ant._ Today, my lord; and for three months before, No interim, not a minute's vacancy, Both day and night did we keep company. 90
_Enter_ OLIVIA _and_ Attendants.
_Duke._ Here comes the countess: now heaven walks on earth. But for thee, fellow; fellow, thy words are madness: Three months this youth hath tended upon me; But more of that anon. Take him aside.
_Oli._ What would my lord, but that he may not have, 95 Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable? Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.
_Vio._ Madam!
_Duke._ Gracious Olivia,--
_Oli._ What do you say, Cesario? Good my lord,-- 100
_Vio._ My lord would speak; my duty hushes me.
_Oli._ If it be aught to the old tune, my lord, It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear As howling after music.
_Duke._ Still so cruel?
_Oli._ Still so constant, lord. 105
_Duke._ What, to perverseness? You uncivil lady, To whom ingrate and unauspicious altars My soul the faithfull'st offerings hath breathed out That e'er devotion tender'd! What shall I do?
_Oli._ Even what it please my lord, that shall become him. 110
_Duke._ Why should I not, had I the heart to do it, Like to the Egyptian thief at point of death, Kill what I love?--a savage jealousy That sometime savours nobly. But hear me this: Since you to non-regardance cast my faith, 115 And that I partly know the instrument That screws me from my true place in your favour, Live you the marble-breasted tyrant still; But this your minion, whom I know you love, And whom, by heaven I swear, I tender dearly, 120 Him will I tear out of that cruel eye, Where he sits crowned in his master's spite. Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mischief: I 'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love, To spite a raven's heart within a dove. 125
_Vio._ And I, most jocund, apt and willingly, To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.
_Oli._ Where goes Cesario?
_Vio._ After him I love More than I love these eyes, more than my life, More, by all mores, than e'er I shall love wife. 130 If I do feign, you witnesses above Punish my life for tainting of my love!
_Oli._ Ay me, detested! how am I beguiled!
_Vio._ Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong?
_Oli._ Hast thou forgot thyself? is it so long? 135 Call forth the holy father.
_Duke._ Come, away!
_Oli._ Whither, my lord? Cesario, husband, stay.
_Duke._ Husband!
_Oli._ Ay, husband: can he that deny?
_Duke._ Her husband, sirrah!
_Vio._ No, my lord, not I.
_Oli._ Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear 140 That makes thee strangle thy propriety: Fear not, Cesario; take thy fortunes up; Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art As great as that thou fear'st.
_Enter_ Priest.
O, welcome, father! Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence, 145 Here to unfold, though lately we intended To keep in darkness what occasion now Reveals before 'tis ripe, what thou dost know Hath newly pass'd between this youth and me.
_Priest._ A contract of eternal bond of love, 150 Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands, Attested by the holy close of lips, Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings; And all the ceremony of this compact Seal'd in my function, by my testimony: 155 Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave I have travell'd but two hours.
_Duke._ O thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be When time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy case? Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow, 160 That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow? Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feet Where thou and I henceforth may never meet.
_Vio._ My lord, I do protest--
_Oli._ O, do not swear! Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear. 165
_Enter_ SIR ANDREW.
_Sir And._ For the love of God, a surgeon! Send one presently to Sir Toby.
_Oli._ What's the matter?
_Sir And._ He has broke my head across and has given Sir Toby a bloody coxcomb too: for the love of God, your 170 help! I had rather than forty pound I were at home.
_Oli._ Who has done this, Sir Andrew?
_Sir And._ The count's gentleman, one Cesario: we took him for a coward, but he's the very devil incardinate.
_Duke._ My gentleman, Cesario? 175
_Sir And._ 'Od's lifelings, here he is! You broke my head for nothing; and that that I did, I was set on to do't by Sir Toby.
_Vio._ Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you: You drew your sword upon me without cause; 180 But I bespake you fair, and hurt you not.
_Sir And._ If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me: I think you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb.
_Enter_ SIR TOBY _and_ Clown.
Here comes Sir Toby halting; you shall hear more: but if he had not been in drink, he would have tickled you othergates 185 than he did.
_Duke._ How now, gentleman! how is't with you?
_Sir To._ That's all one: has hurt me, and there's the end on't. Sot, didst see Dick surgeon, sot?
_Clo._ O, he's drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyes 190 were set at eight i' the morning.
_Sir To._ Then he's a rogue, and a passy measures panyn: I hate a drunken rogue.
_Oli._ Away with him! Who hath made this havoc with them? 195
_Sir And._ I'll help you, Sir Toby, because we'll be dressed together.
_Sir To._ Will you help? an ass-head and a coxcomb and a knave, a thin-faced knave, a gull!
_Oli._ Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to. 200 [_Exeunt Clown_, _Fabian_, _Sir Toby_, _and Sir Andrew_.
_Enter_ SEBASTIAN.
_Seb._ I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kinsman; But, had it been the brother of my blood, I must have done no less with wit and safety. You throw a strange regard upon me, and by that I do perceive it hath offended you: 205 Pardon me, sweet one, even for the vows We made each other but so late ago.
_Duke._ One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons, A natural perspective, that is and is not!
_Seb._ Antonio, O my dear Antonio! 210 How have the hours rack'd and tortured me, Since I have lost thee!
_Ant._ Sebastian are you?
_Seb._ Fear'st thou that, Antonio?
_Ant._ How have you made division of yourself? An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin 215 Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian?
_Oli._ Most wonderful!
_Seb._ Do I stand there? I never had a brother; Nor can there be that deity in my nature, Of here and every where. I had a sister, 220 Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd. Of charity, what kin are you to me? What countryman? what name? what parentage?
_Vio._ Of Messaline: Sebastian was my father; Such a Sebastian was my brother too, 225 So went he suited to his watery tomb: If spirits can assume both form and suit You come to fright us.
_Seb._ A spirit I am indeed; But am in that dimension grossly clad Which from the womb I did participate. 230 Were you a woman, as the rest goes even, I should my tears let fall upon your cheek, And say 'Thrice-welcome, drowned Viola!'
_Vio._ My father had a mole upon his brow.
_Seb._ And so had mine. 235
_Vio._ And died that day when Viola from her birth Had number'd thirteen years.
_Seb._ O, that record is lively in my soul! He finished indeed his mortal act That day that made my sister thirteen years. 240
_Vio._ If nothing lets to make us happy both But this my masculine usurp'd attire, Do not embrace me till each circumstance Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and jump That I am Viola: which to confirm, 245 I'll bring you to a captain in this town, Where lie my maiden weeds; by whose gentle help I was preserved to serve this noble count. All the occurrence of my fortune since Hath been between this lady and this lord. 250
_Seb._ [_To Olivia_] So comes it, lady, you have been mistook: But nature to her bias drew in that. You would have been contracted to a maid; Nor are you therein, by my life, deceived, You are betroth'd both to a maid and man. 255
_Duke._ Be not amazed; right noble is his blood. If this be so, as yet the glass seems true, I shall have share in this most happy wreck. [_To Viola_] Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times Thou never shouldst love woman like to me. 260
_Vio._ And all those sayings will I over-swear; And all those swearings keep as true in soul As doth that orbed continent the fire That severs day from night.
_Duke._ Give me thy hand; And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds. 265
_Vio._ The captain that did bring me first on shore Hath my maid's garments: he upon some action Is now in durance, at Malvolio's suit, A gentleman, and follower of my lady's.
_Oli._ He shall enlarge him: fetch Malvolio hither: 270 And yet, alas, now I remember me, They say, poor gentleman, he's much distract.
_Re-enter_ Clown _with a letter, and_ FABIAN.
A most extracting frenzy of mine own From my remembrance clearly banish'd his. How does he, sirrah? 275
_Clo._ Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the stave's end as well as a man in his case may do: has here writ a letter to you; I should have given 't you to-day morning, but as a madman's epistles are no gospels, so it skills not much when they are delivered. 280
_Oli._ Open 't, and read it.
_Clo._ Look then to be well edified when the fool delivers the madman. [_Reads_] By the Lord, madam,--
_Oli._ How now! art thou mad?
_Clo._ No, madam, I do but read madness: an your ladyship 285 will have it as it ought to be, you must allow Vox.
_Oli._ Prithee, read i' thy right wits.
_Clo._ So I do, madonna; but to read his right wits is to read thus: therefore perpend, my princess, and give ear.
_Oli._ Read it you, sirrah. [_To Fabian._ 290
_Fab._ [_Reads_] By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and the world shall know it: though you have put me into darkness and given your drunken cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my senses as well as your ladyship. I have your own letter that induced me to the semblance I put on; with the which I doubt not but to do 295 myself much right, or you much shame. Think of me as you please. I leave my duty a little unthought of and speak out of my injury.
THE MADLY-USED MALVOLIO.
_Oli._ Did he write this?
_Clo._ Ay, madam. 300
_Duke._ This savours not much of distraction.
_Oli._ See him deliver'd, Fabian; bring him hither. [_Exit Fabian._
My lord, so please you, these things further thought on, To think me as well a sister as a wife, One day shall crown the alliance on't, so please you, 305 Here at my house and at my proper cost.
_Duke._ Madam, I am most apt to embrace your offer. [_To Viola_] Your master quits you; and for your service done him, So much against the mettle of your sex, So far beneath your soft and tender breeding, 310 And since you call'd me master for so long, Here is my hand: you shall from this time be Your master's mistress.
_Oli._ A sister! you are she.
_Re-enter_ FABIAN, _with_ MALVOLIO.
_Duke._ Is this the madman?
_Oli._ Ay, my lord, this same. How now, Malvolio!
_Mal._ Madam, you have done me wrong, 315 Notorious wrong.
_Oli._ Have I, Malvolio? no.
_Mal._ Lady, you have. Pray you, peruse that letter. You must not now deny it is your hand: Write from it, if you can, in hand or phrase; Or say 'tis not your seal, not your invention: 320 You can say none of this: well, grant it then And tell me, in the modesty of honour, Why you have given me such clear lights of favour, Bade me come smiling and cross-garter'd to you, To put on yellow stockings and to frown 325 Upon Sir Toby and the lighter people; And, acting this in an obedient hope, Why have you suffer'd me to be imprison'd, Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest, And made the most notorious geek and gull 330 That e'er invention play'd on? tell me why.
_Oli._ Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing, Though, I confess, much like the character: But out of question 'tis Maria's hand. And now I do bethink me, it was she 335 First told me thou wast mad; then camest in smiling, And in such forms which here were presupposed Upon thee in the letter. Prithee, be content: This practice hath most shrewdly pass'd upon thee; But when we know the grounds and authors of it, 340 Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge Of thine own cause.
_Fab._ Good madam, hear me speak, And let no quarrel nor no brawl to come Taint the condition of this present hour, Which I have wonder'd at. In hope it shall not, 345 Most freely I confess, myself and Toby Set this device against Malvolio here, Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts We had conceived against him: Maria writ The letter at Sir Toby's great importance; 350 In recompense whereof he hath married her. How with a sportful malice it was follow'd, May rather pluck on laughter than revenge; If that the injuries be justly weigh'd That have on both sides pass'd. 355