Chapter: SCENE II.


            _A Dining-room in_ OLIVIA'S _House_.

     SIR TOBY _and_ SIR ANDREW _discovered, drinking and smoking_.

    _Sir To._ Come, Sir Andrew: not to be a-bed after midnight, is to be
up betimes; and _diluculo surgere_, thou know'st,----

    _Sir And._ Nay, by my troth, I know not: but I know, to be up late,
is to be up late.

    _Sir To._ A false conclusion; I hate it as an unfill'd can: To be up
after midnight, and to go to bed then, is early; so that, to go to
bed after midnight, is to go to bed betimes. Do not our lives
consist of the four elements?

    _Sir And._ 'Faith, so they say; but, I think, it rather consists of
eating and drinking.

    _Sir To._ Thou art a scholar; let us therefore eat and
drink.--Maria, I say!----a stoop of wine!

                                           [_The_ CLOWN _sings without_.

                                      [SIR ANDREW _and_ SIR TOBY _rise_.

    _Sir And._ Here comes the fool, i'faith.

                           _Enter_ CLOWN.

    _Clo._ How now, my hearts? Did you never see the picture of we
three?

    _Sir To._ Welcome, ass.

    _Sir And._ I had rather than forty shillings I had such a leg; and
so sweet a voice to sing, as the fool has.--In sooth, thou wast in very
gracious fooling last night, when thou spokest of Pigrogromitus, of the
Vapians passing the equinoctial of Queubus; 'twas very good, i'faith. I
sent thee sixpence for thy leman: Hadst it?

    _Clo._ I did impeticos thy gratillity; for Malvolio's nose is no
whipstock: My lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no bottle
ale-houses.

    _Sir And._ Excellent! Why, this is the best fooling, when all is
done. Now, a song.

    _Sir To._ Come on: Shall we rouse the night-owl in a catch, that
will draw three souls out of one weaver? Shall we do that?

    _Sir And._ An you love me, let's do 't: I am dog at a catch.

    _Clo._ By'r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well.

    _Sir And._ Begin, fool: it begins,--[_Sings._] _Hold thy peace._

    _Clo._ Hold my peace!--I shall never begin, if I hold my peace.

    _Sir And._ Good, i'faith!--Come, begin:--that, or something
else,--or what you will.

                                                 [_They all three sing._

        _Christmas comes but once a year,
        And therefore we'll be merry._

                             _Enter_ MARIA.

    _Mar._ What a catterwauling do you keep here! If my lady have not
called up her steward, Malvolio, and bid him turn you out of doors,
never trust me.

    _Sir To._ My lady's a Cataian; we are politicians. Malvolio's a
Peg-a-Ramsay:--[_Sings._]--_And three merry men be we._

    _Sir And._ [_Sings._] _And three merry men be we._

    _Sir To._ Am I not consanguineous? Am I not of her blood?
Tilly-valley, lady!--[_Sings._]--_There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady,
lady!_

    _Sir And._ [_Sings_] _Lady_,----

    _Clo._ Beshrew me, the knight's in admirable fooling.

    _Sir And._ Ay, he does well enough, if he be disposed, and so do I
too; he does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural.
[_Sings_.] _Lady_,--

    _Sir To._ Let us have another.

                                       [_They all three sing and dance._

        _Which is the properest day to drink?
        Saturday,--Sunday,--Monday_,--

    _Mar._ For the love of heaven, peace.

          _Enter_ MALVOLIO, _in a Gown and Cap, with a Light_.

    _Mal._ My masters, are you mad? or what are you?

    _Sir And._ [_Sings._] _Monday_,--

    _Mal._ Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty, but to gabble like
tinkers at this time of night?

    _Sir To._ [_Sings._] _Saturday_,--

    _Mal._ Is there no respect of place, persons, nor time, in you?

    _Sir To._ We did keep time, sir, in our catches. Sneck up!

    _Mal._ Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My lady bade me tell you,
that, though she harbours you as her kinsman, she's nothing allied to
your disorders. If you can separate yourself and your misdemeanors, you
are welcome to the house; if not, an it would please you to take leave
of her, she is very willing to bid you farewell.

    _Sir To._ [_Sings._] _Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be
gone._

    _Mar._ Nay, good Sir Toby.

    _Clo._ [_Sings._] _His eyes do show his days are almost done._

    _Mal._ Is't even so?

    _Sir To._ [_Sings._] _But I will never die._  [_Falls on the floor._

    _Clo._ [_Sings._] _Sir Toby,--O, Sir Toby,--there you lie._

    _Mal._ This is much credit to you.         [CLOWN _raises_ SIR TOBY.

    _Sir To._ [_Sings._] _You lie._--Art any more than a steward? Dost
thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes
and ale?

    _Clo._ Yes, by Saint Anne; and ginger shall be hot i' the mouth too.

    _Sir To._ Thou'rt i' the right.--Go, sir, rub your chain with
crums:--A stoop of wine, Maria!

    _Mal._ Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady's favour at any thing
more than contempt, you would not give means for this uncivil rule:
She shall know of it, by this hand.

               [_Exit_ MALVOLIO, _followed by the_ CLOWN, _mocking him_.

    _Mar._ Go shake your ears.

    _Sir And._ 'Twere as good a deed as to drink when a man's a hungry,
to challenge him to the field; and then to break promise with him, and
make a fool of him.

    _Sir To._ Do't, knight; I'll write thee a challenge: or I'll deliver
thy indignation to him by word of mouth.

    _Mar._ Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for to-night; since the youth of
the Duke's was to-day with my lady, she is much out of quiet. For
Monsieur Malvolio, let me alone with him: if I do not gull him into a
nayword, and make him a common recreation, do not think I have wit
enough to lie straight in my bed: I know, I can do it.

    _Sir To._ Possess us, possess us; tell us something of him.

    _Mar._ Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of Puritan.

    _Sir And._ O, if I thought that, I'd beat him like a dog.

    _Sir To._ What, for being a Puritan? Thy exquisite reason, dear
knight?

    _Sir And._ I have no exquisite reason for't, but I have reason good
enough.

    _Mar._ The devil a Puritan that he is, or any thing constantly but a
time-pleaser; an affectioned ass; so crammed, as he thinks, with
excellencies, that it is his ground of faith, that all, that look on
him, love him; and on that vice in him will my revenge find notable
cause to work.

    _Sir To._ What wilt thou do?

    _Mar._ I will drop in his way some obscure epistles of love;
wherein, by the colour of his beard, the shape of his leg, the manner of
his gait, the expressure of his eye, he shall find himself most
feelingly personated: I can write very like my lady, your niece; on a
forgotten matter we can hardly make distinction of our hands.

    _Sir To._ Excellent! I smell a device.

    _Sir And._ I have't in my nose too.

    _Sir To._ He shall think, by the letters that thou wilt drop, that
they come from my niece, and that she is in love with him?

    _Sir And._ O, 'twill be admirable.

    _Mar._ Sport royal, I warrant you. I will plant you two, and let
Fabian make a third, where he shall find the letter; observe his
construction of it. For this night, to bed, and dream on the event.
Farewell.                                                 [_Exit_ MARIA.

    _Sir To._ Good night, Penthesilea.

    _Sir And._ Before me, she's a good wench.

    _Sir To._ She's a beagle, true bred, and one that adores me; What o'
that?

    _Sir And._ I was adored once too.

    _Sir To._ Let's to bed, knight.--Thou hadst need send for more
money.

    _Sir And._ If I cannot recover your niece, I am a foul way out.

    _Sir To._ Send for money, knight; if thou hast her not i' the end,
call me Cut.

    _Sir And._ If I do not, never trust me, take it how you will.

    _Sir To._ Come, come; I'll go burn some sack, 'tis too late to go to
bed now.

    _Sir And._ I'll call you Cut.

    _Sir To._ Come, knight,--come, knight.

    _Sir And._ I'll call you Cut.                             [_Exeunt._

 Meanwhile, outside Olivia's house, Malvolio has caught up with Viola. Malvolio gives Cesario the ring that Olivia has sent with him, rebuking him for having left it with Olivia. Viola realizes Olivia's deception and plays along with it, pretending that she did indeed give the ring to Olivia. She tells Malvolio that Olivia took the ring and insists that Olivia must keep it. Malvolio throws the ring onto the ground and exits. Alone, the confused Viola picks up the ring and wonders why Olivia has given it to her. She wonders if it means that Olivia has fallen in love with Cesario. If such is the case, Viola reflects, then events have indeed taken an ironic turn, because Olivia has unknowingly fallen in love with another woman. Poor lady, she were better love a dream," Viola says to herself. Apparently loved by Olivia and in love with Orsino, who loves Olivia, Viola expresses her hope that time will untangle these problems since she certainly cannot figure out how to solve them

