Chapter: ACT THE FOURTH. SCENE 1.



                                

                     _A Room in_ OLIVIA'S _House_.

                      _Enter_ OLIVIA _and_ MARIA.

    _Oli._ I have sent after him:--He says, he'll come.
  How shall I feast him? what bestow on him?
  I speak too loud.----
  Where is Malvolio?

    _Mar._ He's coming, madam;
  But in strange manner. He is sure possessed.

    _Oli._ Why, what's the matter? does he rave?

    _Mar._ No, madam,
  He does nothing but smile: your ladyship
  Were best have guard about you, if he come;
  For, sure, the man is tainted in his wits.

    _Oli._ Go call him hither.                           [_Exit_ MARIA.
  I'm as mad as he,
  If sad and merry madness equal be.--

  _Enter_ MALVOLIO, _in yellow Stockings, cross-garter'd, and_ MARIA.

  How now, Malvolio?

    _Mal._ Sweet lady, ho, ho.                  [_Smiles fantastically._

    _Oli._ Smilest thou?
  I sent for thee upon a sad occasion.

    _Mal._ Sad, lady? I could be sad: This does make some obstruction in
the blood, this cross-gartering: But what of that? if it please the eye
of one, it is with me as the very true sonnet is: _Please one, and
please all_.

    _Oli._ Why, how dost thou, man? What is the matter with thee?

    _Mal._ Not black in my mind, though yellow in my legs.--It did come
to his hands, and commands shall be executed. I think, we do know the
sweet Roman hand.

    _Oli._ Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio?

    _Mal._ To bed!--Ay, sweet-heart; and I'll come to thee.

    _Oli._ Heaven comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so, and kiss thy
hand so oft?

    _Mar._ How do you, Malvolio?

    _Mal._ At your request? Yes; Nightingales answer daws.

    _Mar._ Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady?

    _Mal._ _Be not afraid of greatness_:--'Twas well writ.

    _Oli._ What mean'st thou by that, Malvolio?

    _Mal._ _Some are born great_,--

    _Oli._ Ha?

    _Mal._ _Some achieve greatness_,--

    _Oli._ What say'st thou?

    _Mal._ _ And some have greatness thrust upon them._

    _Oli._ Heaven restore thee!

    _Mal._ _Remember who commended thy yellow stockings_;--

    _Oli._ Thy yellow stockings?

    _Mal_ _And wished to see thee cross-garter'd._

    _Oli._ Cross-garter'd?

    _Mal._ _Go to: thou art made, if thou desirest to be so_;--

    _Oli._ Am I made?

    _Mal._ _If not, let me see thee a servant still._

    _Oli._ Why, this is very Midsummer madness.

                            _Enter_ FABIAN.

    _Fab._ Madam, the young gentleman of the Duke Orsino's is returned;
I could hardly entreat him back: he attends your ladyship's pleasure.

    _Oli._ I'll come to him. Good Maria, let this fellow be look'd
to.--Call my uncle Toby.                                 [_Exit_ FABIAN.
Let some of my people have a special care of him; I would not have him
miscarry for the half of my dowry.         [_Exeunt_ OLIVIA _and_ MARIA.

    _Mal._ Oh, ho! do you come near me now? No worse man than Sir Toby
to look to me? She sends him on purpose, that I may appear stubborn to
him; for she incites me to that in the letter. I have limed her.--And,
when she went away now, _Let this fellow be looked to_:--Fellow! not
Malvolio, nor after my degree, but fellow. Why, every thing adheres
together.--Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and he is to be
thanked.

    _Sir To._ [_Without_] Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If
all the devils in hell be drawn in little, and Legion himself possessed
him, yet I'll speak to him.

                 _Enter_ FABIAN, SIR TOBY, _and_ MARIA.

    _Fab._ Here he is, here he is:--How is't with you, sir? how is't
with you, man?

    _Mal._ Go off, I discard you; let me enjoy my private; go off.

    _Mar._ Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did not I tell
you?--Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a care of him.

    _Mal._ Ah, ha! does she so?

    _Sir To._ Go to, go to; we must deal gently with him. How do you,
Malvolio? how is't with you? What, man! defy the devil: consider, he's
an enemy to mankind.

    _Mal._ Do you know what you say?

    _Mar._ La you, an you speak ill of the devil, how he takes it at
heart! Pray, heaven, he be not bewitch'd.

    _Fab._ Carry his water to the wise woman.

    _Sir To._ Pr'ythee, hold thy peace; do you not see, you move him?
let me alone with him.

    _Fab._ No way but gentleness; gently, gently: the fiend is rough,
and will not be roughly used.

    _Sir To._ Why, how now, my bawcock? how dost thou, chuck?

    _Mal._ Sir?

    _Sir To._ Ay, Biddy, come with me.--What, man! 'tis not for gravity
to play at cherry-pit with Satan: Hang him, foul collier!

    _Mar._ Get him to say his prayers, Sir Toby.

    _Mal._ My prayers, minx?

    _Mar._ No, I warrant you, he'll not hear of godliness.

    _Mal._ Go, hang yourselves all! you are idle shallow things: I am
not of your element; you shall know more hereafter. Begone. Ha! ha!
ha!                                                    [_Exit_ MALVOLIO.

    _Omnes._ Ha! ha! ha!

    _Sir To._ Is't possible?

    _Fab._ If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as
an improbable fiction.

    _Sir To._ His very genius hath taken the infection of the device,
man.

    _Mar._ Nay, pursue him now; lest the device take air, and taint.

    _Fab._ Why, we shall make him mad, indeed.

    _Mar._ The house will be the quieter.

    _Sir To._ Come, we'll have him in a dark room, and bound.--Follow
him, and let him not from thy sight.                      [_Exit_ MARIA.
But see, but see.

    _Fab._ More matter for a May morning.

                  _Enter_ SIR ANDREW, _with a Letter_.

    _Sir And._ Here's the challenge, read it; I warrant, there's vinegar
and pepper in't.

    _Fab._ Is't so saucy?

    _Sir And._ Ay, is it, I warrant him: do but read.

    _Sir To._ Give me.--[_Reads._] _Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art
but a scurvy fellow._

    _Fab._ Good and valiant.

    _Sir To._ _Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind, why I do call
thee so, for I will show thee no reason for't._

    _Fab._ A good note; that keeps you from the blow of the law.

    _Sir To._ _Thou comest to the Lady Olivia, and in my sight she uses
thee kindly: but thou liest in thy throat, that is not the matter I
challenge thee for._

    _Fab._ Very brief, and exceeding good sense-less.

    _Sir To._ _I will way-lay thee going home; where if it be thy chance
to kill me_,--

    _Fab._ Good.

    _Sir To._ _Thou killest me like a rogue and a villain._

    _Fab._ Still you keep o' the windy side of the law: Good.

    _Sir To._ _Fare thee well; and heaven have mercy upon one of our
souls! He may have mercy upon mine; but my hope is better, and so look
to thyself. Thy friend, as thou usest him, and thy sworn enemy_, ANDREW
AGUECHEEK.--If this letter move him not, his legs cannot: I'll give't
him.

    _Fab._ You may have very fit occasion for't; he is now in some
commerce with my lady, and will by and by depart.

    _Sir To._ Go, Sir Andrew; scout me for him at the corner of the
garden, like a bum-bailiff; so soon as ever thou seest him, draw; and,
as thou draw'st, swear horrible; for it comes to pass oft, that a
terrible oath, with a swaggering accent sharply twang'd off, gives
manhood more approbation than ever proof itself would have earned him.
Away.

    _Sir And._ Nay, let me alone for swearing.       [_Exit_ SIR ANDREW.

    _Sir To._ Now will not I deliver his letter: for the behaviour of
the young gentleman gives him out to be of good capacity and breeding;
therefore this letter, being so excellently ignorant, will breed no
terror in the youth, he will find it comes from a clodpole. But, sir, I
will deliver his challenge by word of mouth; set upon Ague-cheek a
notable report of valour; and drive the gentleman, (as, I know, his
youth will aptly receive it,) into a most hideous opinion of his rage,
skill, fury, and impetuosity. This will so fright them both, that they
will kill one another by the look, like cockatrices.

    _Fab._ Here he comes with your niece: give them way, till he take
leave, and presently after him.

    _Sir To._ I will meditate the while upon some horrid message for a
challenge.                              [_Exeunt_ SIR TOBY _and_ FABIAN.

                      _Enter_ VIOLA _and_ OLIVIA.

    _Oli._  I have said too much unto a heart of stone,
  And laid mine honour too unchary out:
  There's something in me, that reproves my fault;
  But such a headstrong potent fault it is,
  That it but mocks reproof.

    _Vio._ With the same 'haviour that your passion bears,
  Go on my master's griefs.

    _Oli._ Here, wear this jewel for me, 'tis my picture;
  Refuse it not, it hath no tongue to vex you:
  And, I beseech you, come again to-morrow.
  What shall you ask of me, that I'll deny;
  That honour, saved, may upon asking give?

    _Vio._ Nothing but this, your true love for my master.

    _Oli._ How with mine honour may I give him that
  Which I have given to you?

    _Vio._ I will acquit you.

    _Oli._ Well, come again to-morrow: Fare thee well!

                                                         [_Exit_ OLIVIA.

                     _Enter_ SIR TOBY _and_ FABIAN.

    _Sir To._ Gentleman, heaven save thee.

    _Vio._ And you, sir.

    _Sir To._ That defence thou hast, betake thee to't: of what nature
the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know not; but thy intercepter, full
of despight, bloody as the hunter, attends thee: dismount thy tuck, be
yare in thy preparation, for thy assailant is quick, skilful, and
deadly.

    _Vio._ You mistake, sir; I am sure, no man hath any quarrel to me;
my remembrance is very free and clear from any image of offence done to
any man.

    _Sir To._ You'll find it otherwise, I assure you: therefore, if you
hold your life at any price, betake you to your guard; for your opposite
hath in him what youth, strength, skill, and wrath, can furnish man
withal.

    _Vio._ I pray you, sir, what is he?

    _Sir To._ He is knight, dubb'd with unhack'd rapier, and on carpet
consideration: but he is a devil in private brawl: souls and bodies hath
he divorced three; and his incensement at this moment is so implacable,
that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death and sepulchre: hob,
nob, is his word; give 't or take 't.

    _Vio._ I will return, and desire some conduct of the lady. I am no
fighter.

    _Sir To._ Back you shall not, unless you undertake that with me,
which with as much safety you might answer him: therefore, on; or strip
your sword stark naked, (for meddle you must, that's certain,) or
forswear to wear iron about you.

    _Vio._ This is as uncivil, as strange. I beseech you, do me this
courteous office, as to know of the knight what my offence to him is; it
is something of my negligence, nothing of my purpose.

    _Sir To._ I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by this gentleman
till my return.                                        [_Exit_ SIR TOBY.

    _Vio._ 'Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter?

    _Fab._ I know, the knight is incensed against you, even to a mortal
arbitrement; but nothing of the circumstance more.

    _Vio._ I beseech you, what manner of man is he?

    _Fab._ Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read him by his form,
as you are like to find him in the proof of his valour. He is, indeed,
sir, the most skilful, bloody, and fatal opposite that you could
possibly have found in any part of Illyria: Will you walk towards him? I
will make your peace with him, if I can.

    _Vio._ I shall be much bound to you for't: I am one, that would
rather go with sir priest, than sir knight: I care not who knows so much
of my mettle.

                                                              [_Exeunt._



SCENE II.


                           OLIVIA'S _Garden_.

        _Enter_ SIR TOBY, _with_ SIR ANDREW, _in a great fright_.

    _Sir To._ Why, man, he's a very devil;--

    _Sir And._ Oh!

    _Sir To._ I have not seen such a virago. I had a pass with
him,--rapier, scabbard, and all,--and he gives me the stuck-in,----

    _Sir And._ Oh!

    _Sir To._ With such a mortal motion, that it is inevitable: they
say, he has been fencer to the Sophy.

    _Sir And._ Plague on't, I'll not meddle with him.

    _Sir To._ Ay, but he will not now be pacified: Fabian can scarce
hold him yonder.

    _Sir And._ Plague on't; an I thought he had been valiant, and so
cunning in fence, I'd have seen him damn'd ere I had challenged him. Let
him let the matter slip, and I'll give him my horse, grey Capilet.

    _Sir To._ I'll make the motion: Stand here, make a good show
on't.--[_Aside._] Marry, I'll ride your horse as well as I ride you.

                      _Enter_ FABIAN _and_ VIOLA.

I have his horse [_To_ FABIAN.] to take up the quarrel; I have persuaded
him, the youth's a devil.

    _Fab._ [_To_ SIR TOBY.] He is as horribly conceited of him; and
pants, as if a bear were at his heels.

    _Sir To._ [_To_ VIOLA.] There's no remedy, sir; he will fight with
you for his oath sake: marry, he hath better bethought him of his
quarrel, and he finds that now scarce to be worth talking of: therefore
draw, for the supportance of his vow; he protests, he will not hurt you.

    _Vio._ [_Draws her Sword._] Pray heaven defend me!--[_Aside._] A
little thing would make me tell them how much I lack of a man.

    _Fab._ [_To_ VIOLA.] Give ground, if you see him furious.

    _Sir To._ Come, Sir Andrew, there's no remedy; the gentleman will,
for his honour's sake, have one bout with you: he cannot by the duello
avoid it: but he has promised me, as he is a gentleman and a soldier, he
will not hurt you. Come on; to 't.

    _Sir And._ [_Draws._] Pray heaven, he keep his oath!

    _Vio._ I do assure you, 'tis against my will.

 [_They fight._--SIR TOBY _and_ FABIAN _urge on_ SIR ANDREW _and_ VIOLA.

      _Enter_ ANTONIO, _who runs between_ SIR ANDREW _and_ VIOLA.

    _Ant._ Put up your sword;--If this young gentleman
  Have done offence, I take the fault on me;
  If you offend him, I for him defy you.

    _Sir To._ You, sir? Why, what are you?

    _Ant._ [_Draws._] One, sir, that for his love dares yet do more
  Than you have heard him brag to you he will.

    _Sir To._ [_Draws._] Nay, if you be an undertaker, I
am for you.

                   [SIR TOBY _and_ ANTONIO _fight_.]

    [SIR ANDREW _hides himself behind the Trees_.--VIOLA _retires a
                               little_.]

    _Fab._ [_Parts them._] O good Sir Toby, hold; here come the
officers.

    _Sir To._ [_To_ ANTONIO.] I'll be with you anon. [ANTONIO _shows
great alarm_--SIR TOBY _sheathes his sword_.]--Sir knight,--Sir
Andrew,--

    _Sir And._ Here I am.

    _Sir To._ What, man!--Come on. [_Brings_ SIR ANDREW _forward_.]

    _Vio._ [_Advances._] 'Pray, sir, [_To_ SIR ANDREW.] put up your
sword, if you please.

    _Sir And._ Marry, will I, sir;--and, for that I promised you, I'll
be as good as my word: He will bear you easily, and reins well.

                    _Enter two Officers of Justice._

    _1 Off._ This is the man; do thy office.

    _2 Off._ Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit
  Of Duke Orsino.

    _Ant._ You do mistake me, sir.

    _1 Off._ No, sir, no jot; I know your favour well.--
  Take him away; he knows, I know him well.

    _Ant._ I must obey.--This comes with seeking you;
  But there's no remedy.
  Now my necessity
  Makes me to ask you for my purse: It grieves me
  Much more, for what I cannot do for you,
  Than what befalls myself. You stand amazed;
  But be of comfort.

    _1 Off._ Come, sir, away.

    _Ant._ I must entreat of you some of that money.

    _Vio._ What money, sir?
  For the fair kindness you have showed me here,
  And, part, being prompted by your present trouble,
  Out of my lean and low ability
  I'll lend you something: my having is not much;
  I'll make division of my present with you;
  Hold, there is half my coffer.

    _Ant._ Will you deny me now?
  Is't possible, that my deserts to you
  Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery;
  Lest that it make me so unsound a man,
  As to upbraid you with those kindnesses
  That I have done for you.

    _Vio._ I know of none;
  Nor know I you by voice, or any feature.

    _Ant._ O heavens themselves!

    _1 Off._ Come, sir, I pray you, go.

    _Ant._ Let me speak a little. This youth that you see here,
  I snatch'd one half out of the jaws of death;
  And to his image, which, methought, did promise
  Most venerable worth, did I devotion.
  But, O, how vile an idol proves this god!--
  Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame.--
  In nature there's no blemish, but the mind;
  None can be call'd deform'd, but the unkind:
  Virtue is beauty; but the beauteous-evil
  Are empty trunks, o'erflourish'd by the devil.

                                       [_Exeunt_ ANTONIO _and Officers_.

    _Sir To._ Come hither, knight; come hither, Fabian.

                                                [_They retire together._

    _Vio._ He named Sebastian; I my brother know
  Yet living in my glass; even such, and so,
  In favour was my brother; and he went
  Still in this fashion, colour, ornament;
  For him I imitate: O, if it prove,
  Tempests are kind, and salt waves fresh in love!

                                                         [_Exit_ VIOLA.

                           [_They advance._]

    _Sir To._ A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward than a
hare; his dishonesty appears, in leaving his friend here in necessity,
and denying him; and for his cowardship, ask Fabian.

    _Fab._ A coward, a most devout coward, religious in it.

    _Sir And._ 'Slid, I'll after him again, and beat him.

    _Sir To._ Do, cuff him soundly;--but never draw thy sword.

    _Sir And._ An I do not!--                                 [_Exeunt._



SCENE III.


                  _The Street before_ OLIVIA'S _House_.

                     _Enter_ SEBASTIAN _and_ CLOWN.

    _Clo._ Will you make me believe, that I am not sent for you?

    _Seb._ Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow; Let me be clear of
thee.

    _Clo._ Well held out, i' faith! No, I do not know you; nor I am not
sent to you by my lady, to bid you come speak with her; nor your name is
not Cesario; nor this is not my nose neither:--Nothing, that is so, is
so.

    _Seb._ I pr'ythee, vent thy folly somewhere else;--Thou know'st not
me.

    _Clo._ Vent my folly! He has heard that word of some great man, and
now applies it to a fool.--I pr'ythee, tell me what I shall vent to my
lady; Shall I vent to her, that thou art coming?

    _Seb._ I pr'ythee, foolish Greek, depart from me; There's money for
thee; if you tarry longer, I shall give worse payment.

    _Clo._ By my troth, thou hast an open hand:--These wise men, that
give fools money, get themselves a good report after fourteen years'
purchase.

                          _Enter_ SIR ANDREW.

    _Sir And._ Now, sir, have I met you again? There's for you.
                                                  [_Striking_ SEBASTIAN.

    _Seb._ [_Draws his sword._] Why, there's for thee, and there, and
there:--Are all the people mad?

                                                  [_Beating_ SIR ANDREW.

                  _Enter_ SIR TOBY _and_ FABIAN.

    _Sir To._ Hold, sir, or I'll throw your dagger o'er the house.

    _Clo._ This will I tell my lady straight--I would not be in some of
your coats for two-pence.

                                                          [_Exit_ CLOWN.

    _Sir To._ Come on, sir; hold.                  [_Holding_ SEBASTIAN.

    _Sir And._ Nay, let him alone. I'll go another way to work with him;
I'll have an action of battery against him, if there be any law in
Illyria: though I struck him first, yet it's no matter for that.

    _Seb._ Let go thy hand.

    _Sir To._ Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier,
put up your iron: you are well flesh'd; come on.

    _Seb._ [_Disengages himself._] I will be free from thee.
        --What would'st thou now?
  If thou darest tempt me further, draw thy sword.

    _Sir To._ What, what?--[_Draws._]--Nay, then I must have an ounce or
two of this malapert blood from you.                      [_They fight._

                   _Enter_ OLIVIA, _and two Servants_.

    _Fab._ Hold, good Sir Toby, hold:--my lady here!

                                                         [_Exit_ FABIAN.

    _Oli._ Hold, Toby; on thy life, I charge thee, hold.

    _Sir To._ Madam?

    _Oli._ Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch,
  Fit for the mountains, and the barbarous caves,
  Where manners ne'er were preach'd! out of my sight!
  Be not offended, dear Cesario:----
  Rudesby, be gone!--

    _Sir To._ Come along, knight.                      [_Exit_ SIR TOBY.

    _Oli._ And you, sir, follow him.

    _Sir And._ Oh, oh!--Sir Toby,--

                                                     [_Exit_ SIR ANDREW.

    _Oli._ I pr'ythee, gentle friend,
  Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway
  In this uncivil and unjust extent
  Against thy peace. Go with me to my house;
  And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks
  This ruffian hath botch'd up, that thou thereby
  May'st smile at this: thou shalt not choose but go;
  Do not deny.

    _Seb._ What relish is in this? how runs the stream?
  Or I am mad, or else this is a dream:--
  Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;
  If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!

    _Oli._ Nay, come, I pr'ythee: 'Would thou'dst be ruled by me!

    _Seb._ Madam, I will.

    _Oli._ O, say so, and so be!                              [_Exeunt._



SCENE IV.


                _A Gallery in_ OLIVIA'S _House_.

        _Enter_ MARIA, _with a black Gown and Hood, and_ CLOWN.

    _Mar._ Nay, I pr'ythee, put on this gown and hood; make him believe,
thou art Sir Topas the curate; do it quickly: I'll call Sir Toby the
whilst.

                                                          [_Exit_ MARIA.

    _Clo._ Well, I'll put it on, and I will dissemble myself in't; and I
would I were the first that ever dissembled in such a gown.

                                           _Enter_ SIR TOBY _and_ MARIA.

    _Sir To._ Jove bless thee, master parson.

    _Clo._ _Bonos dies_, Sir Toby: for as the old hermit of Prague, that
never saw pen and ink, very wittily said to a niece of King Gorboduc,
_That, that is, is_; so I, being master parson, am master parson: For
what is that, but that? and is, but is?

    _Sir To._ To him, Sir Topas.

    _Clo._ [_Opens the door of an inner Room_] What, hoa, I say,--Peace
in this prison!

    _Sir To._ The knave counterfeits well; a good knave.

    _Mal._ [_In the inner Room._] Who calls there?

    _Clo._ Sir Topas, the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio the
lunatic.

    _Mal._ Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to my lady.

    _Clo._ Out, hyperbolical fiend! how vexest thou this man? talkest
thou nothing but of ladies?

    _Sir To._ Well said, master parson.

    _Mal._ Sir Topas, never was man thus wrong'd; good Sir Topas, do not
think I am mad; they have bound me, hand and foot, and laid me here in
hideous darkness.

    _Clo._ Say'st thou, that house is dark?

    _Mal._ As hell, Sir Topas.

    _Clo._ Madman, thou errest: I say, there is no darkness, but
ignorance; in which thou art more puzzled, than the Egyptians in their
fog.

    _Mal._ I say this house is as dark as ignorance, though ignorance
were as dark as hell; and I say, there was never man thus abused: I am
no more mad than you are; make the trial of it in any constant question.

    _Clo._ What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild-fowl?

    _Mal._ That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird.

    _Clo._ What thinkest thou of his opinion?

    _Mal._ I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his opinion.

    _Clo._ Fare thee well: Remain thou still in darkness: thou shalt
hold the opinion of Pythagoras, ere I will allow of thy wits; and fear
to kill a woodcock, lest thou dispossess the soul of thy grandam. Fare
thee well.

    _Mal._ Sir Topas, Sir Topas,--

    _Sir To._ My most exquisite Sir Topas,--

    _Clo._ Nay, I am for all waters. [_Takes off the gown and hood, and
gives them to_ MARIA.]

    _Mar._ Thou might'st have done this without thy hood and gown; he
sees thee not.

    _Sir To._ To him in thine own voice, and bring us word how thou
find'st him: Come by and by to my chamber.
                                         [_Exeunt_ SIR TOBY _and_ MARIA.

    _Clo._ [_Sings._] _Hey Robin, jolly Robin,
                          Tell me how thy lady does._

    _Mal._ Fool,--fool,--good fool,--

    _Clo._ Who calls, ha?

    _Mal._ As ever thou wilt deserve well at my hand, help me to a
candle, and pen, ink, and paper; as I am a gentleman, I will live to be
thankful to thee for't.

    _Clo._ Master Malvolio!

    _Mal_. Ay, good fool.

    _Clo._ Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits?

    _Mal._ Fool, there was never man so notoriously abused: I am as well
in my wits, fool, as thou art.

    _Clo._ But as well! then you are mad, indeed, if you be no better in
your wits than a fool.

    _Mal._ Good fool, some ink, paper, and light, and convey what I will
set down to my lady; it shall advantage thee more than ever the bearing
of letter did.

    _Clo._ I will help you to't. But tell me true, are you not mad,
indeed? or do you but counterfeit?

    _Mal._ Believe me, I am not: I tell thee true.

    _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 pr'ythee, be
gone.

    _Clo._ [_Shuts the door of the inner Room, and sings._]
            _I am gone, sir,
            And anon, sir,
        I'll be with you again, &c._                           [_Exit._



SCENE V.


                           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;
  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,
  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,
  Or else the lady's mad.--But here she comes.

                     _Enter_ OLIVIA, _and a_ FRIAR.

    _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,
  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
  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.

    _Oli._ Then lead the way, good father:                [_Exit_ FRIAR.
  And heavens so shine,
  That they may fairly note this act of mine!                 [_Exeunt._

 Feste approaches Sebastian, thinking that Sebastian is 'Cesario'; when Sebastian tells Feste that he does not know him, nor Olivia, whom Feste tells him to meet, Feste becomes rather upset, and accuses Sebastian of "strangeness". Then Sir Andrew comes, and strikes Sebastian out of anger, as if he were Cesario; Sir Toby and Sebastian come close to getting in a duel of their own, when Olivia finds them, and charges them to stop. Olivia dismisses Sir Toby, and asks Sebastian "would thou'dst be ruled by me," thinking that he is Cesario, due to his great resemblance to his sister. Sebastian decides to go along with it, struck by Olivia's beauty, thinking it all a pleasant dream from which he hopes he will not awaken. Scene 2: Maria and Feste conspire to present Feste as Sir Topaz, the curate, to Malvolio, who is hidden from view. Feste tries to convince that Malvolio that he is crazy, and Malvolio continues to insist that he is not, that he has been wrongly incarcerated. Feste then confronts Malvolio as himself, and torments him some more; he fakes a conversation with himself as Feste and Sir Topaz, and Malvolio begs for paper and ink so that he can send a message to Olivia. Feste promises to fetch these things, and exits with a song. Scene 3: Sebastian debates with himself whether he is mad, or whether it is the Lady Olivia; but, he recognizes that is cannot be her, since she is able to command a large household, and therefore would have to be sane and coherent. Olivia asks him to come with her to the parson and be married to her; Sebastian, though he does not know her and cannot figure out exactly what is going on, says he will marry her, and leaves with her.

