Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will 298not open my lips so wide as a bristle may enter, in way 299of thy excuse. My lady will hang thee for thy absence.

Let her hang me; he that is well hanged in this 301world needs to fear no colors.

Make that good.

He shall see none to fear!

A good lenten answer. I can tell thee where that 305saying was born, of "I fear no colors."

Where, good Mistress Mary?

In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in 308your foolery.

Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and 310those that are fools, let them use their talents.

Yet you will be hanged for being so long absent; 312or to be turned away--is not that as good as a hanging to 313you?

Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage; 315and for turning away, let summer bear it out.

You are resolute, then?

Not so neither, but I am resolved on two points--

That if one break, the other will hold; or if both 319break, your gaskins fall!

Apt in good faith, very apt. Well, go thy way; if 321Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a piece 322of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria.

Peace, you rogue, no more o'that! 325

1.5.16Here comes my 324lady. Make your excuse wisely, you were best.

[To the audience] Wit, an't be thy will, put me into good fooling! 327Those wits that think they have thee, do very oft prove 328fools; and I, that am sure I lack thee, may pass for a 329wise man. For what says Quinapalus? "Better a witty fool, 330than a foolish wit." [To Olivia] God bless thee, lady!

[To the Gentlemen] Take the fool away.

Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady.

Go to, y'are a dry fool; I'll no more of you. 334Besides, you grow dishonest.

Two faults, madonna, that drink and good counsel 336will amend: for give the dry fool drink, then is the fool 337not dry. Bid the dishonest man mend himself: if he mend, 338he is no longer dishonest; if he cannot, let the botcher 339mend him. Anything that's mended is but patched; virtue 340that transgresses is but patched with sin, and sin that 341amends is but patched with virtue. If that this simple 342syllogism will serve, so; if it will not, what remedy? 343As there is no true cuckold but calamity, so beauty's a 344flower. The lady bade take away the fool, therefore I 345say again, take her away.

Sir, I bade them take away you.

Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, cucullus 348non facit monachum--that's as much to say, as "I wear not 349motley in my brain." Good madonna, give me leave to 350prove you a fool.

Can you do it?

Dexteriously, good madonna.

Make your proof.

I must catechize you for it, madonna. Good my 355mouse of virtue, answer me.

Well sir, for want of other idleness, I'll bide your 357proof.

Good madonna, why mourn'st thou?

Good fool, for my brother's death.

I think his soul is in hell, madonna.

I know his soul is in heaven, fool.

The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your 363brother's soul, being in heaven. [To the Gentlemen] Take away the fool, 364gentlemen.

What think you of this fool, Malvolio? Doth he 366not mend?

Yes, and shall do, till the pangs of death shake 368him: infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever make the 369better fool.

God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the 371better increasing your folly: Sir Toby will be sworn that 372I am no fox, but he will not pass his word for twopence 373that you are no fool.

How say you to that, Malvolio?

I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such 376a barren rascal. I saw him put down the other day with 377an ordinary fool, that has no more brain than a stone. 378Look you now, he's out of his guard already. Unless you 379laugh and minister occasion to him, he is gagged. I protest 380I take these wise men, that crow so at these set kind of 381fools, no better than the fools' zanies.

Oh, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste 383with a distempered appetite. To be generous, guiltless, 384and of free disposition, is to take those things for 385bird-bolts that you deem cannon bullets. There is no 386slander in an allowed fool, though he do nothing but rail; 387nor no railing in a known discreet man, though he do 388nothing but reprove.

Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for thou 390speak'st well of fools.

Madam, there is at the gate a young 393gentleman much desires to speak with you.

From the Count Orsino, is it?

I know not, madam. 'Tis a fair young man, and 396well attended.

Who of my people hold him in delay?

Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman.

Fetch him off, I pray you, he speaks nothing but 400madman. Fie on him!

1.5.47Go you, Malvolio; if it be a suit 401from the count, I am sick, or not at home. What you 402will, to dismiss it.

1.5.48403Now you see, sir, how your fooling grows old, and 404people dislike it.

Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy eldest 406son should be a fool; whose skull Jove cram with 407brains, for--

1.5.50here he comes-- 408one of thy kin has a most weak pia mater.

By mine honor, half drunk. What is he at the 410gate, cousin?

A gentleman.

A gentleman? What gentleman?

'Tis a gentleman here--[belching] a plague o'these pickle 414herring! [To Clown] How now, sot!

Good Sir Toby!

Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by 417this lethargy?

Lechery? I defy lechery! There's one at the 419gate.

Ay, marry, what is he?

Let him be the devil an he will, I care not; give 422me faith, say I. Well, it's all one.

What's a drunken man like, fool?

Like a drowned man, a fool, and a madman: 425one draught above heat makes him a fool, the second 426mads him, and a third drowns him.

Go thou and seek the coroner, and let him sit 428o'my coz, for he's in the third degree of drink: he's 429drowned. Go look after him.

He is but mad yet, madonna, and the fool shall 431look to the madman.

Madam, yond young fellow swears he will 434speak with you. I told him you were sick; he takes on 435him to understand so much, and therefore comes to speak 436with you. I told him you were asleep; he seems to have 437a foreknowledge of that too, and therefore comes to 438speak with you. What is to be said to him, lady? He's 439fortified against any denial.

Tell him he shall not speak with me.

He has been told so; and he says he'll stand at 442your door like a sheriff's post, and be the supporter to 443a bench, but he'll speak with you.

What kind o'man is he?

Why, of mankind.

What manner of man?

Of very ill manner: he'll speak with you, will 448you or no.

Of what personage and years is he?

Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough 451for a boy: as a squash is before 'tis a peascod, or a codling 452when 'tis almost an apple. 'Tis with him in standing 453water between boy and man. He is very well-favored, 454and he speaks very shrewishly; one would think his 455mother's milk were scarce out of him.

Let him approach. Call in my gentlewoman.

[Calling offstage] Gentlewoman, my lady calls.

Give me my veil. Come, throw it o'er my face.

1.5.76460We'll once more hear Orsino's embassy.

The honorable lady of the house, which is she?

Speak to me, I shall answer for her. Your will?

Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable 465beauty--[To Maria or a Gentleman] I pray you tell me if this be the lady of the house, 466for I never saw her. I would be loath to cast away my 467speech; for besides that it is excellently well penned, I have 468taken great pains to con it. [Olivia and others laugh.] Good beauties, let me 469sustain no scorn; I am very comptible, even to the least 470sinister usage.

Whence came you, sir?

I can say little more than I have studied, and that 473question's out of my part. Good gentle one, give me 474modest assurance if you be the lady of the house, that I 475may proceed in my speech.

Are you a comedian?

No, my profound heart; and yet--by the very 478fangs of malice I swear--I am not that I play. Are you 479the lady of the house?

If I do not usurp myself, I am.

Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp your482self, for what is yours to bestow is not yours to 483reserve. But this is from my commission. I will on with 484my speech in your praise, and then show you the heart of 485my message.

Come to what is important in't, I forgive you 487the praise.

Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis 489poetical.

It is the more like to be feigned, I pray you keep 491it in. I heard you were saucy at my gates, and allowed your 492approach rather to wonder at you, than to hear you. If 493you be not mad, be gone. If you have reason, be brief. 494'Tis not that time of moon with me to make one in so 495skipping a dialogue.

Will you hoist sail, sir? Here lies your way.

[To Maria] No, good swabber, I am to hull here a little 498longer. [To Olivia] Some mollification for your Giant, sweet lady! 499Tell me your mind, I am a messenger.

Sure you have some hideous matter to deliver, 501when the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak your office.

It alone concerns your ear. I bring no 503overture of war, no taxation of homage. I hold the olive 504in my hand. My words are as full of peace as matter.

Yet you began rudely. What are you? 506What would you?

The rudeness that hath appeared in me, have I 508learned from my entertainment. What I am, and what I 509would, are as secret as maidenhead: to your ears, 510divinity; to any others', profanation.

Give us the place alone; 512we will hear this divinity.

1.5.96Now sir, what is your text?

Most sweet lady--

A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said 515of it. Where lies your text?

In Orsino's bosom.

In his bosom! In what chapter of his bosom?

To answer by the method, in the first of his heart.

O, I have read it. It is heresy. Have you no more 520to say?

Good madam, let me see your face.

Have you any commission from your lord to 523negotiate with my face? You are now out of your text. 524But we will draw the curtain, and show you the picture.

1.5.105525Look you, sir, such a one I was this present. Is't not well 526done?

Excellently done, if god did all.

'Tis in grain, sir, 'twill endure wind and 529weather.

'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white

1.5.109531Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on.

1.5.110532Lady, you are the cruel'st she alive

1.5.111533If you will lead these graces to the grave,

1.5.112534And leave the world no copy.

O sir, I will not be so hardhearted. I will give 536out divers schedules of my beauty. It shall be inventoried, 537and every particle and utensil labeled to my will: as, 538item, [Indicating] two lips, indifferent red; item, two grey eyes, 539with lids to them; item, one neck; one chin; and so forth. 540Were you sent hither to praise me?

I see you what you are, you are too proud;

1.5.115542But if you were the devil, you are fair.

1.5.116543My lord and master loves you. O, such love

1.5.117544Could be but recompensed, though you were crowned

1.5.118545The nonpareil of beauty.

The nonpareil of beauty. How does he love me?

With adorations, fertile tears,

1.5.120548With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.

Your lord does know my mind, I cannot love him.

1.5.122550Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble,

1.5.123551Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth;

1.5.124552In voices well divulged, free, learn'd, and valiant,

1.5.125553And in dimension, and the shape of nature,

1.5.126554A gracious person. But yet I cannot love him.

1.5.127555He might have took his answer long ago.

If I did love you in my master's flame,

1.5.129557With such a suff'ring, such a deadly life,

1.5.130558In your denial I would find no sense;

1.5.131559I would not understand it.

I would not understand it. Why, what would you?

Make me a willow cabin at your gate,

1.5.133562And call upon my soul within the house;

1.5.134563Write loyal cantos of contemnèd love,

1.5.135564And sing them loud even in the dead of night;

1.5.136565Hallow your name to the reverberate hills,

1.5.137566And make the babbling gossip of the air

1.5.138567Cry out "Olivia!" O you should not rest

1.5.139568Between the elements of air and earth,

1.5.140569But you should pity me.

But you should pity me. You might do much!

1.5.141571What is your parentage?

Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:

1.5.143573I am a gentleman.

I am a gentleman. Get you to your lord.

1.5.144575I cannot love him. Let him send no more,

1.5.145576Unless, perchance, you come to me again,

1.5.146577To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well.

1.5.147578[Offering a purse] I thank you for your pains. Spend this for me.

I am no fee'd post, lady; keep your purse.

1.5.149580My master, not myself, lacks recompense.

1.5.150581Love make his heart of flint, that you shall love,

1.5.151582And let your fervor, like my master's, be

583Placed in contempt. Farwell, fair cruelty.

"What is your parentage?"

1.5.153585"Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:

1.5.154586I am a gentleman." I'll be sworn thou art!

1.5.155587Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit,

1.5.156588Do give thee five-fold blazon. Not too fast! Soft, soft!

1.5.157589Unless the master were the man. How now!

1.5.158590Even so quickly may one catch the plague?

1.5.159591Methinks I feel this youth's perfections

1.5.160592With an invisible and subtle stealth

1.5.161593To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.

1.5.162594[Calling] What ho, Malvolio!

[Calling] What ho, Malvolio! Here, madam, at your service.

Run after that same peevish messenger,

1.5.164598The county's man. He left this ring behind him,

1.5.165599Would I or not. Tell him I'll none of it.

1.5.166600Desire him not to flatter with his lord,

1.5.167601Nor hold him up with hopes; I am not for him.

1.5.168602If that the youth will come this way tomorrow,

1.5.169603I'll give him reasons for't. Hie thee, Malvolio.

Madam, I will.

[To the audience] I do I know not what, and fear to find

1.5.172606Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind.

1.5.173607Fate, show thy force, ourselves we do not owe;

1.5.174608What is decreed must be; and be this so.