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FABIAN
I would exult, man: you know, he brought me out o'
favour with my lady about a bear-baiting here.
SIR TOBY BELCH
To anger him we'll have the bear again; and we will
fool him black and blue: shall we not, Sir Andrew?
SIR ANDREW
An we do not, it is pity of our lives.
SIR TOBY BELCH
Here comes the little villain.
Enter MARIA
How now, my metal of India!
MARIA
Get ye all three into the box-tree: Malvolio's
coming down this walk: he has been yonder i' the
sun practising behavior to his own shadow this half
hour: observe him, for the love of mockery; for I
know this letter will make a contemplative idiot of
him. Close, in the name of jesting!
Throws down a letter
Lie thou there, for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling.
Exit
Enter MALVOLIO
MALVOLIO
'Tis but fortune; all is fortune. Maria once told
me she did affect me: and I have heard herself come
thus near, that, should she fancy, it should be one
of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a more
exalted respect than any one else that follows her.
What should I think on't?
SIR TOBY BELCH
Here's an overweening rogue!
FABIAN
O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock
of him: how he jets under his advanced plumes!
SIR ANDREW
'Slight, I could so beat the rogue!
SIR TOBY BELCH
Peace, I say.
MALVOLIO
To be Count Malvolio!
SIR TOBY BELCH
Ah, rogue!
SIR ANDREW
Pistol him, pistol him.
SIR TOBY BELCH
Peace, peace!
MALVOLIO
There is example for't; the lady of the Strachy
married the yeoman of the wardrobe.
SIR ANDREW
Fie on him, Jezebel!
FABIAN
O, peace! now he's deeply in: look how
imagination blows him.
MALVOLIO
Having been three months married to her, sitting in
my state,--
SIR TOBY BELCH
O, for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye!
MALVOLIO
Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet
gown; having come from a day-bed, where I have left
Olivia sleeping,--
SIR TOBY BELCH
Fire and brimstone!
FABIAN
O, peace, peace!
MALVOLIO
And then to have the humour of state; and after a
demure travel of regard, telling them I know my
place as I would they should do theirs, to for my
kinsman Toby,--
SIR TOBY BELCH
Bolts and shackles!
FABIAN
O peace, peace, peace! now, now.
MALVOLIO
Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make
out for him: I frown the while; and perchance wind
up watch, or play with my--some rich jewel. Toby
approaches; courtesies there to me,--
SIR TOBY BELCH
Shall this fellow live?
FABIAN
Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace.
MALVOLIO
I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar
smile with an austere regard of control,--
SIR TOBY BELCH
And does not Toby take you a blow o' the lips then?
MALVOLIO
Saying, 'Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast me on
your niece give me this prerogative of speech,'--
SIR TOBY BELCH
What, what?
MALVOLIO
'You must amend your drunkenness.'
SIR TOBY BELCH
Out, scab!
FABIAN
Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot.
MALVOLIO
'Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with
a foolish knight,'--
SIR ANDREW
That's me, I warrant you.
MALVOLIO
'One Sir Andrew,'--
SIR ANDREW
I knew 'twas I; for many do call me fool.
MALVOLIO
What employment have we here?
Taking up the letter
FABIAN
Now is the woodcock near the gin.
SIR TOBY BELCH
O, peace! and the spirit of humour intimate reading
aloud to him!
MALVOLIO
By my life, this is my lady's hand these be her
very C's, her U's and her T's and thus makes she her
great P's. It is, in contempt of question, her hand.
SIR ANDREW
Her C's, her U's and her T's: why that?
MALVOLIO
[Reads] 'To the unknown beloved, this, and my good
wishes:'--her very phrases! By your leave, wax.
Soft! and the impressure her Lucrece, with which she
uses to seal: 'tis my lady. To whom should this be?
FABIAN
This wins him, liver and all.
MALVOLIO
[Reads]
Jove knows I love: But who?
Lips, do not move;
No man must know.'
'No man must know.' What follows? the numbers
altered! 'No man must know:' if this should be
thee, Malvolio?
SIR TOBY BELCH
Marry, hang thee, brock!
MALVOLIO
[Reads]
I may command where I adore;
But silence, like a Lucrece knife,
With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore:
M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.
FABIAN
A fustian riddle!
SIR TOBY BELCH
Excellent wench, say I.
MALVOLIO
'M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.' Nay, but first, let
me see, let me see, let me see.
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