ACT 1
Scene 5
...you were best.
Enter Lady Olivia with Malvolio and Attendants.
...he not mend?
Yes, and shall do till the pangs of death
shake him. Infirmity, that decays the wise, doth
ever make the better Fool.
...to that, 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.
...to dismiss it.
(Malvolio exits.)
...to the madman.
Enter 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.
...speak with me.
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.
...man is he?
Why, of mankind.
...manner of man?
Of very ill manner. He’ll speak with you,
will you or no.
...years is he?
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-favored, and he speaks very shrewishly.
One would think his mother’s milk were
scarce out of him.
...in my gentlewoman.
Gentlewoman, my lady calls.
He exits.
...What ho, Malvolio!
Enter Malvolio.
Here, madam, at your service.
...none of it.
She hands him a ring.
...Hie thee, Malvolio.
Madam, I will.
He exits.
ACT 2
Scene 2
...I will go.
Enter Viola and Malvolio, at several doors.
Were not you even now with the Countess
Olivia?
...arrived but hither.
She returns this ring to you, sir. You might
have saved me my pains to have taken it away
yourself. She adds, moreover, that you should put
your lord into a desperate assurance she will none
of him. And one thing more, that you be never so
hardy to come again in his affairs unless it be to
report your lord’s taking of this. Receive it so.
...none of it.
Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her, and
her will is it should be so returned. He throws down the ring.
If it be worth stooping for, there it
lies in your eye; if not, be it his that finds it.
He exits.
Scene 3
...o’ God, peace!
Enter Malvolio.
My masters, are you mad? Or what are you?
Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty but to
gabble like tinkers at this time of night? Do you
make an ale-house of my lady’s house, that you
squeak out your coziers’ catches without any mitigation
or remorse of voice? Is there no respect of
place, persons, nor time in you?
...catches. Sneck up!
Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My lady
bade me tell you that, though she harbors 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.
...are almost done.
Is ’t even so?
...there you lie.
This is much credit to you.
...of wine, Maria!
Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady’s favor
at anything more than contempt, you would not give
means for this uncivil rule. She shall know of it, by
this hand.
He exits.
Scene 5
...caught with tickling.
Enter Malvolio.
’Tis but fortune, all is fortune. Maria once
told me she did affect me, and I have heard herself
come thus near, that should she fancy, it should be
one of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a
more exalted respect than anyone else that follows
her. What should I think on ’t?
...Peace, I say.
To be Count Malvolio.
...him! Peace, peace!
There is example for ’t. The lady of the
Strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe.
...imagination blows him.
Having been three months married to her,
sitting in my state—
...in the eye!
Calling my officers about me, in my
branched velvet gown, having come from a daybed
where I have left Olivia sleeping—
...O, peace, peace!
And then to have the humor of state; and
after a demure travel of regard, telling them I
know my place, as I would they should do theirs, to
ask for my kinsman Toby—
...peace! Now, now.
Seven of my people, with an obedient start,
make out for him. I frown the while, and perchance
wind up my watch, or play with my—some
rich jewel. Toby approaches; curtsies there to me—
...cars, yet peace!
I extend my hand to him thus, quenching
my familiar smile with an austere regard of
control—
...the lips then?
Saying, “Cousin Toby, my fortunes, having
cast me on your niece, give me this prerogative of
speech—”
... What, what?
“You must amend your drunkenness.”
...of our plot!
“Besides, you waste the treasure of your
time with a foolish knight—”
...I warrant you.
“One Sir Andrew.”
...call me fool.
seeing the letter
What employment have
we here?
...aloud to him.
taking up the letter
By my life, this is my
lady’s hand! These be her very ’s, her ’s, and her
’s, and thus she makes her great ’s. It is in
contempt of question her hand.
...’s. Why that?
reads
To the unknown beloved, this, and my
good wishes—Her very phrases! By your leave, wax.
Soft. And the impressure her Lucrece, with which
she uses to seal—’tis my lady! He opens the letter.
To whom should this be?
...liver and all.
reads
Jove knows I love,
But who?
Lips, do not move;
No man must know.
“No man must know.” What follows? The numbers
altered. “No man must know.” If this should be
thee, Malvolio!
...hang thee, brock!
reads
I may command where I adore,
But silence, like a Lucrece knife,
With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore;
M.O.A.I. doth sway my life.
...wench, say I.
“M.O.A.I. doth sway my life.” Nay, but first
let me see, let me see, let me see.
...checks at it!
“I may command where I adore.” Why, she
may command me; I serve her; she is my lady. Why,
this is evident to any formal capacity. There is no
obstruction in this. And the end—what should that
alphabetical position portend? If I could make that
resemble something in me! Softly! “M.O.A.I.”—
...as a fox.
“M”—Malvolio. “M”—why, that begins
my name!
...excellent at faults.
“M.” But then there is no consonancy in
the sequel that suffers under probation. “A” should
follow, but “O” does.
...him cry “O.”
And then “I” comes behind.
...fortunes before you.
“M.O.A.I.” This simulation is not as the
former, and yet to crush this a little, it would bow
to me, for every one of these letters are in my name.
Soft, here follows prose.
He reads.
If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my
stars I am above thee, but be not afraid of greatness.
Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and
some have greatness thrust upon ’em. Thy fates open
their hands. Let thy blood and spirit embrace them.
And, to inure thyself to what thou art like to be, cast
thy humble slough and appear fresh. Be opposite with
a kinsman, surly with servants. Let thy tongue tang
arguments of state. Put thyself into the trick of singularity.
She thus advises thee that sighs for thee.
Remember who commended thy yellow stockings and
wished to see thee ever cross-gartered. I say, remember.
Go to, thou art made, if thou desir’st to be so. If
not, let me see thee a steward still, the fellow of
servants, and not worthy to touch Fortune’s fingers.
Farewell. She that would alter services with thee,
The Fortunate-Unhappy.
Daylight and champian discovers not more! This is
open. I will be proud, I will read politic authors, I
will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off gross acquaintance,
I will be point-devise the very man. I do not
now fool myself, to let imagination jade me; for
every reason excites to this, that my lady loves me.
She did commend my yellow stockings of late, she
did praise my leg being cross-gartered, and in this
she manifests herself to my love and, with a kind of
injunction, drives me to these habits of her liking. I
thank my stars, I am happy. I will be strange, stout,
in yellow stockings, and cross-gartered, even with
the swiftness of putting on. Jove and my stars be
praised! Here is yet a postscript.
He reads.
Thou canst not choose but know who I
am. If thou entertain’st my love, let it appear in thy
smiling; thy smiles become thee well. Therefore in my
presence still smile, dear my sweet, I prithee.
Jove, I thank thee! I will smile. I will do everything
that thou wilt have me.
He exits.
ACT 3
Scene 4
...madness equal be.
Enter Maria with Malvolio.
...How now, Malvolio?
Sweet lady, ho, ho!
...a sad occasion.
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.”
...matter with thee?
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.
...to bed, Malvolio?
To bed? “Ay, sweetheart, and I’ll come to
thee.”
...do you, Malvolio?
At your request? Yes, nightingales answer
daws!
...before my lady?
“Be not afraid of greatness.” ’Twas well
writ.
...by that, Malvolio?
“Some are born great—”
... Ha?
“Some achieve greatness—”
...What sayst thou?
“And some have greatness thrust upon
them.”
...Heaven restore thee!
“Remember who commended thy yellow
stockings—”
...Thy yellow stockings?
“And wished to see thee cross-gartered.”
... Cross-gartered?
“Go to, thou art made, if thou desir’st to be
so—”
...Am I made?
“If not, let me see thee a servant still.”
...of my dowry.
O ho, do you come near me now? No worse
man than Sir Toby to look to me. This concurs
directly with the letter. She sends him on purpose
that I may appear stubborn to him, for she incites
me to that in the letter: “Cast thy humble slough,”
says she. “Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with
servants; let thy tongue tang with arguments of
state; put thyself into the trick of singularity,” and
consequently sets down the manner how: as, a sad
face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in the habit
of some Sir of note, and so forth. I have limed her,
but it is Jove’s doing, and Jove make me thankful!
And when she went away now, “Let this fellow be
looked to.” “Fellow!” Not “Malvolio,” nor after my
degree, but “fellow.” Why, everything adheres together,
that no dram of a scruple, no scruple of a
scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous or unsafe
circumstance—what can be said? Nothing that can
be can come between me and the full prospect of
my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and
he is to be thanked.
...with you, man?
Go off, I discard you. Let me enjoy my
private. Go off.
...care of him.
Aha, does she so?
...enemy to mankind.
Do you know what you say?
...than I’ll say.
How now, mistress?
...dost thou, chuck?
Sir!
...him to pray.
My prayers, minx?
...hear of godliness.
Go hang yourselves all! You are idle, shallow
things. I am not of your element. You shall
know more hereafter.
He exits.
ACT 4
Scene 2
...A good knave.
Malvolio within.
Who calls there?
...Malvolio the lunatic.
Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to
my lady—
...said, Master Parson.
Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged.
Good Sir Topas, do not think I am mad. They have
laid me here in hideous darkness—
...house is dark?
As hell, Sir Topas.
...thou of obstruction?
I am not mad, Sir Topas. I say to you this
house is dark.
...in their fog.
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.
...Pythagoras concerning wildfowl?
That the soul of our grandam might haply
inhabit a bird.
...of his opinion?
I think nobly of the soul, and no way
approve his opinion.
...Fare thee well.
Sir Topas, Sir Topas!
...thy lady does.
Fool!
...is unkind, perdy.
Fool!
...is she so?
Fool, I say!
...Who calls, ha?
Good fool, 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.
... Master Malvolio?
Ay, good Fool.
...your five wits?
Fool, there was never man so notoriously
abused. I am as well in my wits, Fool, as thou art.
...than a Fool.
They have here propertied me, keep me in
darkness, send ministers to me—asses!—and do
all they can to face me out of my wits.
...thy vain bibble-babble.
Sir Topas!
...sir, I will.
Fool! Fool! Fool, I say!
...speaking to you.
Good Fool, help me to some light and some
paper. I tell thee, I am as well in my wits as any
man in Illyria.
...you were, sir!
By this hand, I am. 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.
...you but counterfeit?
Believe me, I am not. I tell thee true.
...paper and ink.
Fool, I’ll requite it in the highest degree. I
prithee, begone.
...Adieu, goodman devil.”
He exits.
ACT 5
Scene 1
...You are she.
Enter Malvolio and Fabian.
...How now, Malvolio?
Madam, you have done me wrong,
Notorious wrong.
...I, Malvolio? No.
handing her a paper
Lady, you have. Pray you peruse that letter.
You must not now deny it is your hand.
Write from it if you can, in hand or phrase,
Or say ’tis not your seal, not your invention.
You can say none of this. Well, grant it then,
And tell me, in the modesty of honor,
Why you have given me such clear lights of favor?
Bade me come smiling and cross-gartered to you,
To put on yellow stockings, and to frown
Upon Sir Toby and the lighter people?
And, acting this in an obedient hope,
Why have you suffered me to be imprisoned,
Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest,
And made the most notorious geck and gull
That e’er invention played on? Tell me why.
...in his revenges.
I’ll be revenged on the whole pack of you!
He exits.