give me leave to prove you a fool.
| Olivia |
Can you do it? |
| Clown |
Dexterously, good madonna. |
| Olivia |
Make your proof. |
| Clown |
I must catechize you for it, madonna: good my mouse of virtue, answer me. |
| Olivia |
Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I’ll bide your proof. |
| Clown |
Good madonna, why mournest thou? |
| Olivia |
Good fool, for my brother’s death. |
| Clown |
I think his soul is in hell, madonna. |
| Olivia |
I know his soul is in heaven, fool. |
| Clown |
The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your brother’s soul being in heaven. Take away the fool, gentlemen. |
| Olivia |
What think you of this fool, Malvolio? doth he not mend? |
| Malvolio |
Yes, and shall do till the pangs of death shake him: infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever make the better fool. |
| Clown |
God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will be sworn that I am no fox; but he will not pass his word for two pence that you are no fool. |
| Olivia |
How say you to that, Malvolio? |
| Malvolio |
I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such a barren rascal: I saw him put down the other day with an ordinary fool 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 gagged. 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 distempered 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 allowed fool, though he do nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known discreet man, though he do nothing but reprove. |
| Clown |
Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for thou speakest 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 gentle man here—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 drowned man, a fool and a mad man: 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 drowned: 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; 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 man. He is very well-favoured and he speaks very shrewishly; one would think his mother’s milk were scarce out of him. |
| Olivia |
Let him approach: call in my gentlewoman. |
| Malvolio |
Gentlewoman, my lady calls. Exit. |
|
Re-enter Maria. |
| Olivia |
Give me my veil: come, throw it o’er my face.
We’ll once more hear Orsino’s embassy.
|
|
Enter Viola, and Attendants. |
| Viola |
The honourable lady of the house, which is she? |
| Olivia |
Speak to me; I shall answer for her. Your will? |
| Viola |
Most radiant, exquisite and unmatchable beauty—I pray you, tell me if this be the lady of the house, for I never saw her: I would be loath to cast away my speech, for besides that it is excellently well penned, I have taken great pains to con it. Good beauties, let me sustain no scorn; I am very comptible, even to the least sinister usage. |
| Olivia |
Whence came you, sir? |
| Viola |
I can say little more than I have studied, and that question’s out of my part. Good gentle one, give me modest assurance if you be the lady of the house, that I may proceed in my speech. |
| Olivia |
Are you a comedian? |
| Viola |
No, my profound heart: and yet, by the very fangs of malice I swear, I am not that I play. Are you |