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Twelfth Night: Act 2, Scene 5

Twelfth Night
Act 2, Scene 5

Olivia’s garden.

  1. Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian.

Sir Toby

2
  1. Come thy ways, Signior Fabian.

Fabian

3 - 4
  1. Nay, I’ll come. If I lose a scruple of this sport, let me be
  2. boil’d to death with melancholy.

Sir Toby

5 - 6
  1. Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly rascally
  2. sheep-biter come by some notable shame?

Fabian

7 - 8
  1. I would exult, man. You know he brought me out o’ favor with
  2. my lady about a bear-baiting here.

Sir Toby

9 - 10
  1. To anger him we’ll have the bear again, and we will fool him
  2. black and blue, shall we not, Sir Andrew?

Sir Andrew

11
  1. And we do not, it is pity of our lives.
  1. Enter Maria.

Sir Toby

13
  1. Here comes the little villain. How now, my metal of India?

Maria

14 - 22
  1. Get ye all three into the box-tree; Malvolio’s coming down
  2. this walk. He has been yonder i’ the sun practicing behavior
  3. to his own shadow this half hour. Observe him, for the love
  4. of mockery; for I know this letter will make a contemplative
  5. idiot of him. Close, in the name of jesting!
  6. The men hide themselves.
  7. Lie thou there;
  8. Throws down a letter.
  9. for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling.
  1. Exit.
  1. Enter Malvolio.

Malvolio

25 - 29
  1. ’Tis but fortune, all is fortune. Maria once told me she did
  2. affect me, and I have heard herself come thus near, that
  3. should she fancy, it should be one of my complexion.
  4. Besides, she uses me with a more exalted respect than any
  5. one else that follows her. What should I think on’t?

Sir Toby

30
  1. Here’s an overweening rogue!

Fabian

31 - 32
  1. O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him. How
  2. he jets under his advanc’d plumes!

Sir Andrew

33
  1. ’Slight, I could so beat the rogue!

Sir Toby

34
  1. Peace, I say!

Malvolio

35
  1. To be Count Malvolio!

Sir Toby

36
  1. Ah, rogue!

Sir Andrew

37
  1. Pistol him, pistol him!

Sir Toby

38
  1. Peace, peace!

Malvolio

39 - 40
  1. There is example for’t: the Lady of the Strachy married the
  2. yeoman of the wardrobe.

Sir Andrew

41
  1. Fie on him, Jezebel!

Fabian

42 - 43
  1. O, peace! Now he’s deeply in. Look how imagination blows
  2. him.

Malvolio

44 - 45
  1. Having been three months married to her, sitting in my
  2. state

Sir Toby

46
  1. O, for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye!

Malvolio

47 - 49
  1. Calling my officers about me, in my branch’d velvet gown;
  2. having come from a day-bed, where I have left Olivia
  3. sleeping

Sir Toby

50
  1. Fire and brimstone!

Fabian

51
  1. O, peace, peace!

Malvolio

52 - 54
  1. And then to have the humor of state; and after a demure
  2. travel of regardtelling them I know my place as I would
  3. they should do theirsto ask for my kinsman Toby

Sir Toby

55
  1. Bolts and shackles!

Fabian

56
  1. O, peace, peace, peace! Now, now.

Malvolio

57 - 60
  1. Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for
  2. him. I frown the while, and perchance wind up my watch, or
  3. play with mysome rich jewel. Toby approaches; curtsies
  4. there to me

Sir Toby

61
  1. Shall this fellow live?

Fabian

62
  1. Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace.

Malvolio

63 - 64
  1. I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar smile
  2. with an austere regard of control

Sir Toby

65
  1. And does not Toby take you a blow o’ the lips then?

Malvolio

66 - 67
  1. Saying, Cousin Toby, my fortunes, having cast me on your
  2. niece, give me this prerogative of speech”—

Sir Toby

68
  1. What, what?

Malvolio

69
  1. You must amend your drunkenness.”

Sir Toby

70
  1. Out, scab!

Fabian

71
  1. Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot!

Malvolio

72 - 73
  1. Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish
  2. knight”—

Sir Andrew

74
  1. That’s me, I warrant you.

Malvolio

75
  1. One Sir Andrew”—

Sir Andrew

76
  1. I knew ’twas I, for many do call me fool.

Malvolio

77
  1. What employment have we here?
  1. Taking up the letter.

Fabian

79
  1. Now is the woodcock near the gin.

Sir Toby

80 - 81
  1. O, peace, and the spirit of humors intimate reading aloud to
  2. him!

Malvolio

82 - 84
  1. By my life, this is my lady’s hand. These be her very c’s,
  2. her u’s, and her t’s, and thus makes she her great P’s. It
  3. is, in contempt of question, her hand.

Sir Andrew

85
  1. Her c’s, her u’s, and her t’s: why that?

Malvolio

86 - 88
  1. Reads.
  2. To the unknown belov’d, this, and my good wishes”:—
  3. 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

89
  1. This wins him, liver and all.

Malvolio

90 - 95
  1. Reads.
  2. Jove knows I love,
  3. But who?
  4. Lips, do not move;
  5. No man must know.”
  6. No man must know.” What follows? The numbers alter’d! No man must know.” If this should be thee, Malvolio?

Sir Toby

96
  1. Marry, hang thee, brock!

Malvolio

97 - 101
  1. Reads.
  2. I may command where I adore,
  3. But silence, like a Lucrece knife,
  4. With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore;
  5. M.O.A.I. doth sway my life.”

Fabian

102
  1. A fustian riddle!

Sir Toby

103
  1. Excellent wench, say I.

Malvolio

104 - 105
  1. M.O.A.I. doth sway my life.” Nay, but first let me see, let
  2. me see, let me see.

Fabian

106
  1. What dish a’ poison has she dress’d him!

Sir Toby

107
  1. And with what wing the staniel checks at it!

Malvolio

108 - 112
  1. I may command where I adore.” Why, she may command me: I
  2. serve her, she is my lady. Why, this is evident to any
  3. formal capacity, there is no obstruction in this. And the
  4. endwhat should that alphabetical position portend? If I
  5. could make that resemble something in me! Softly! M.O.A.I.—

Sir Toby

113
  1. O ay, make up that. He is now at a cold scent.

Fabian

114 - 115
  1. Sowter will cry upon’t for all this, though it be as rank as
  2. a fox.

Malvolio

116
  1. MMalvolio; Mwhy, that begins my name.

Fabian

117 - 118
  1. Did not I say he would work it out? The cur is excellent at
  2. faults.

Malvolio

119 - 120
  1. Mbut then there is no consonancy in the sequel that suffers
  2. under probation: A should follow, but O does.

Fabian

121
  1. And O shall end, I hope.

Sir Toby

122
  1. Ay, or I’ll cudgel him, and make him cry O!

Malvolio

123
  1. And then I comes behind.

Fabian

124 - 125
  1. Ay, and you had any eye behind you, you might see more
  2. detraction at your heels than fortunes before you.

Malvolio

126 - 165
  1. M.O.A.I. This simulation is not as the former; and yet, to
  2. crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of
  3. these letters are in my name. Soft, here follows prose.
  4. Reads.
  5. If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I am above
  6. thee, but be not afraid of greatness. Some are born great,
  7. some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon
  8. ’em. Thy Fates open their hands, let thy blood and spirit
  9. embrace them, and to inure thyself to what thou art like to
  10. be, cast thy humble slough and appear fresh. Be opposite
  11. with a kinsman, surly with servants; let thy tongue tang
  12. arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of
  13. singularity. She thus advises thee that sighs for thee.
  14. Remember who commended thy yellow stockings, and wish’d to
  15. see thee ever cross-garter’d: I say, remember. Go to, thou
  16. art made if thou desir’st to be so; if not, let me see thee
  17. a steward still, the fellow of servants, and not worthy to
  18. touch Fortune’s fingers. Farewell. She that would alter
  19. services with thee,
  20. The Fortunate-Unhappy.”
  21. Daylight and champian discovers not more. This is open. I
  22. will be proud, I will read politic authors, I will baffle
  23. Sir Toby, I will wash off gross acquaintance, I will be
  24. point-devise the very man. I do not now fool myself, to let
  25. imagination jade me; for every reason excites to this, that
  26. my lady loves me. She did commend my yellow stockings of
  27. late, she did praise my leg being cross-garter’d, and in
  28. this she manifests herself to my love, and with a kind of
  29. injunction drives me to these habits of her liking. I thank
  30. my stars, I am happy. I will be strange, stout, in yellow
  31. stockings, and cross-garter’d, even with the swiftness of
  32. putting on. Jove and my stars be prais’d! Here is yet a
  33. postscript.
  34. Reads.
  35. Thou canst not choose but know who I am. If thou
  36. entertain’st my love, let it appear in thy smiling; thy
  37. smiles become thee well. Therefore in my presence still
  38. smile, dear my sweet, I prithee.”
  39. Jove, I thank thee. I will smile, I will do every thing that
  40. thou wilt have me.
  1. Exit.

Fabian

167 - 168
  1. I will not give my part of this sport for a pension of
  2. thousands to be paid from the Sophy.

Sir Toby

169
  1. I could marry this wench for this device

Sir Andrew

170
  1. So could I too.

Sir Toby

171
  1. And ask no other dowry with her but such another jest.
  1. Enter Maria.

Sir Andrew

173
  1. Nor I neither.

Fabian

174
  1. Here comes my noble gull-catcher.

Sir Toby

175
  1. Wilt thou set thy foot o’ my neck?

Sir Andrew

176
  1. Or o’ mine either?

Sir Toby

177 - 178
  1. Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and become thy
  2. bond-slave?

Sir Andrew

179
  1. I’ faith, or I either?

Sir Toby

180 - 181
  1. Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that when the image
  2. of it leaves him he must run mad.

Maria

182
  1. Nay, but say true, does it work upon him?

Sir Toby

183
  1. Like aqua-vitae with a midwife.

Maria

184 - 190
  1. If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark his first
  2. approach before my lady. He will come to her in yellow
  3. stockings, and ’tis a color she abhors, and cross-garter’d,
  4. a fashion she detests; and he will smile upon her, which
  5. will now be so unsuitable to her disposition, being addicted
  6. to a melancholy as she is, that it cannot but turn him into
  7. a notable contempt. If you will see it, follow me.

Sir Toby

191
  1. To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit!

Sir Andrew

192
  1. I’ll make one too.
  1. Exeunt.
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