ACT 1
Scene 5

...you were best.
Enter Lady Olivia with Malvolio and Attendants.

...bless thee, lady!
Take the Fool away.

...away the Lady.
Go to, you’re a dry Fool. I’ll no more of you.
Besides, you grow dishonest.

...take her away.
Sir, I bade them take away you.

...you a fool.
Can you do it?

...Dexteriously, good madonna.
Make your proof.

...virtue, answer me.
Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I’ll bide
your proof.

...why mourn’st thou?
Good Fool, for my brother’s death.

...in hell, madonna.
I know his soul is in heaven, Fool.

...the fool, gentlemen.
What think you of this Fool, Malvolio? Doth he
not mend?

...are no fool.
How say you to that, Malvolio?

...the Fools’ zanies.
O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste
with a distempered appetite. To be generous, guiltless,
and of free disposition is to take those things
for bird-bolts that you deem cannon bullets. There
is no slander in an allowed Fool, though he do
nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known discreet
man, though he do nothing but reprove.

...speak with you.
From the Count Orsino, is it?

...and well attended.
Who of my people hold him in delay?

...madam, your kinsman.
Fetch him off, I pray you. He speaks nothing
but madman. Fie on him! Go you,
Malvolio. If it be a suit from the Count, I am sick,
or not at home; what you will, to dismiss it.
Now you see, sir, how your fooling
grows old, and people dislike it.

...Enter Sir Toby.
By mine honor, half drunk!—What is he at the
gate, cousin?

... A gentleman.
A gentleman? What gentleman?

...Good Sir Toby.
Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by
this lethargy?

...at the gate.
Ay, marry, what is he?

...it’s all one.
What’s a drunken man like, Fool?

...third drowns him.
Go thou and seek the crowner and let him sit o’
my coz, for he’s in the third degree of drink: he’s
drowned. Go look after him.

...against any denial.
Tell him he shall not speak with me.

...speak with you.
What kind o’ man is he?

...Why, of mankind.
What manner of man?

...you or no.
Of what personage and years is he?

...out of him.
Let him approach. Call in my gentlewoman.

... Enter Maria.
Give me my veil. Come, throw it o’er my face. Olivia veils.
We’ll once more hear Orsino’s embassy.

...which is she?
Speak to me. I shall answer for her. Your will?

...least sinister usage.
Whence came you, sir?

...in my speech.
Are you a comedian?

...of the house?
If I do not usurp myself, I am.

...of my message.
Come to what is important in ’t. I forgive you
the praise.

...and ’tis poetical.
It is the more like to be feigned. I pray you,
keep it in. I heard you were saucy at my gates, and
allowed your approach rather to wonder at you than
to hear you. If you be not mad, begone; if you have
reason, be brief. ’Tis not that time of moon with me
to make one in so skipping a dialogue.

...giant, sweet lady.
Tell me your mind.

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

...peace as matter.
Yet you began rudely. What are you? What
would you?

...any other’s, profanation.
Give us the place alone. We will hear this
divinity. Now, sir, what
is your text?

...Most sweet lady—
A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said
of it. Where lies your text?

...In Orsino’s bosom.
In his bosom? In what chapter of his bosom?

...of his heart.
O, I have read it; it is heresy. Have you no more
to say?

...see your face.
Have you any commission from your lord to
negotiate with my face? You are now out of your
text. But we will draw the curtain and show you the
picture. She removes her veil.
Look you, sir, such a
one I was this present. Is ’t not well done?

...God did all.
’Tis in grain, sir; ’twill endure wind and
weather.

...world no copy.
O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted! I will give
out divers schedules of my beauty. It shall be
inventoried and every particle and utensil labeled
to my will: as, item, two lips indifferent red; item,
two gray eyes with lids to them; item, one neck, one
chin, and so forth. Were you sent hither to praise
me?

...nonpareil of beauty.
How does he love me?

...sighs of fire.
Your lord does know my mind. I cannot love him.
Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble,
Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth;
In voices well divulged, free, learned, and valiant,
And in dimension and the shape of nature
A gracious person. But yet I cannot love him.
He might have took his answer long ago.

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

...should pity me.
You might do much.
What is your parentage?

...am a gentleman.
Get you to your lord.
I cannot love him. Let him send no more—
Unless perchance you come to me again
To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well.
I thank you for your pains. Spend this for me.
She offers money.

...Farewell, fair cruelty.
“What is your parentage?”
“Above my fortunes, yet my state is well.
I am a gentleman.” I’ll be sworn thou art.
Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit
Do give thee fivefold blazon. Not too fast! Soft, soft!
Unless the master were the man. How now?
Even so quickly may one catch the plague?
Methinks I feel this youth’s perfections
With an invisible and subtle stealth
To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.—
What ho, Malvolio!

...at your service.
Run after that same peevish messenger,
The County’s man. He left this ring behind him,
Would I or not. Tell him I’ll none of it. She hands him a ring.
Desire him not to flatter with his lord,
Nor hold him up with hopes. I am not for him.
If that the youth will come this way tomorrow,
I’ll give him reasons for ’t. Hie thee, Malvolio.

...Madam, I will.
I do I know not what, and fear to find
Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind.
Fate, show thy force. Ourselves we do not owe.
What is decreed must be, and be this so.
She exits.

ACT 3
Scene 1

...we are prevented.
Enter Olivia, and Maria, her Gentlewoman.

...three all ready.
Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to
my hearing.
Give me your hand, sir.

...most humble service.
What is your name?

...name, fair princess.
My servant, sir? ’Twas never merry world
Since lowly feigning was called compliment.
You’re servant to the Count Orsino, youth.

...your servant, madam.
For him, I think not on him. For his thoughts,
Would they were blanks rather than filled with me.

...On his behalf.
O, by your leave, I pray you.
I bade you never speak again of him.
But would you undertake another suit,
I had rather hear you to solicit that
Than music from the spheres.

... Dear lady—
Give me leave, beseech you. I did send,
After the last enchantment you did here,
A ring in chase of you. So did I abuse
Myself, my servant, and, I fear me, you.
Under your hard construction must I sit,
To force that on you in a shameful cunning
Which you knew none of yours. What might you think?
Have you not set mine honor at the stake
And baited it with all th’ unmuzzled thoughts
That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiving
Enough is shown. A cypress, not a bosom,
Hides my heart. So, let me hear you speak.

...I pity you.
That’s a degree to love.

...we pity enemies.
Why then methinks ’tis time to smile again.
O world, how apt the poor are to be proud!
If one should be a prey, how much the better
To fall before the lion than the wolf.

Clock strikes.
The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.
Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you.
And yet when wit and youth is come to harvest,
Your wife is like to reap a proper man.
There lies your way, due west.

...lord by me?
Stay. I prithee, tell me what thou think’st of me.

...what you are.
If I think so, I think the same of you.

...what I am.
I would you were as I would have you be.

...am your fool.
aside
O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
In the contempt and anger of his lip!
A murd’rous guilt shows not itself more soon
Than love that would seem hid. Love’s night is noon.—
Cesario, by the roses of the spring,
By maidhood, honor, truth, and everything,
I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride,
Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide.
Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,
For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause;
But rather reason thus with reason fetter:
Love sought is good, but given unsought is better.

...to you deplore.
Yet come again, for thou perhaps mayst move
That heart, which now abhors, to like his love.
They exit in different directions.

Scene 4

...I do remember.
Enter Olivia and Maria.
aside
I have sent after him. He says he’ll come.
How shall I feast him? What bestow of him?
For youth is bought more oft than begged or borrowed.
I speak too loud.—
Where’s Malvolio? He is sad and civil
And suits well for a servant with my fortunes.
Where is Malvolio?

...sure possessed, madam.
Why, what’s the matter? Does he rave?

...in ’s wits.
Go call him hither. I am as mad as he,
If sad and merry madness equal be.

Enter Maria with Malvolio.
How now, Malvolio?

...lady, ho, ho!
Smil’st thou? I sent for thee upon a sad
occasion.

...and please all.”
Why, how dost thou, man? What is the matter
with thee?

...sweet Roman hand.
Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio?

...come to thee.”
God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so, and
kiss thy hand so oft?

...’Twas well writ.
What mean’st thou by that, Malvolio?

...are born great—”
Ha?

...“Some achieve greatness—”
What sayst thou?

...thrust upon them.”
Heaven restore thee!

...thy yellow stockings—”
Thy yellow stockings?

...see thee cross-gartered.”
Cross-gartered?

...to be so—”
Am I made?

...a servant still.”
Why, this is very midsummer madness!

...your Ladyship’s pleasure.
I’ll come to him. Good Maria, let
this fellow be looked to. Where’s my Cousin Toby?
Let some of my people have a special care of him. I
would not have him miscarry for the half of my
dowry.
Olivia and Maria exit in different directions.

...look, like cockatrices.
Enter Olivia and Viola.

...for a challenge.
I have said too much unto a heart of stone
And laid mine honor too unchary on ’t.
There’s something in me that reproves my fault,
But such a headstrong potent fault it is
That it but mocks reproof.

...my master’s griefs.
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 tomorrow.
What shall you ask of me that I’ll deny,
That honor, saved, may upon asking give?

...for my master.
How with mine honor may I give him that
Which I have given to you?

...will acquit you.
Well, come again tomorrow. Fare thee well.
A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell.
She exits.

ACT 4
Scene 1

...draws his sword.
Enter Olivia.
Hold, Toby! On thy life I charge thee, hold!

... Madam.
Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch,
Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves,
Where manners ne’er were preached! Out of my sight!—
Be not offended, dear Cesario.—
Rudesby, begone! I prithee, 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 botched up, that thou thereby
Mayst smile at this. Thou shalt not choose but go.
Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me!
He started one poor heart of mine, in thee.

...let me sleep!
Nay, come, I prithee. Would thou ’dst be ruled by me!

...Madam, I will.
O, say so, and so be!
They exit.

Scene 3

...the lady comes.
Enter Olivia, and a Priest.
to Sebastian
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?

...will be true.
Then lead the way, good father, and heavens so shine
That they may fairly note this act of mine.
They exit.

ACT 5
Scene 1

...we keep company.
Enter Olivia and Attendants.

...him aside.
What would my lord, but that he may not have,
Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?—
Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.

...Madam? Gracious Olivia—
What do you say, Cesario?—Good my lord—

...duty hushes me.
If it be aught to the old tune, my lord,
It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear
As howling after music.

...Still so cruel?
Still so constant, lord.

...shall I do?
Even what it please my lord that shall become him.

...deaths would die.
Where goes Cesario?

...of my love.
Ay me, detested! How am I beguiled!

...do you wrong?
Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long?—
Call forth the holy father.

... Come, away!
Whither, my lord?—Cesario, husband, stay.

... Husband?
Ay, husband. Can he that deny?

...lord, not I.
Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear
That makes thee strangle thy propriety.
Fear not, Cesario. Take thy fortunes up.
Be that thou know’st thou art, and then thou art
As great as that thou fear’st.

Enter Priest.
O, welcome, father.
Father, I charge thee by thy reverence
Here to unfold (though lately we intended
To keep in darkness what occasion now
Reveals before ’tis ripe) what thou dost know
Hath newly passed between this youth and me.

...I do protest—
O, do not swear.
Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear.

...to Sir Toby.
What’s the matter?

...were at home.
Who has done this, Sir Andrew?

...a drunken rogue.
Away with him! Who hath made this havoc
with them?

...knave, a gull?
Get him to bed, and let his hurt be looked to.

...Which is Sebastian?
Most wonderful!

...of my lady’s.
He shall enlarge him.

Enter Feste, the Fool with a letter, and Fabian.
Fetch Malvolio hither.
And yet, alas, now I remember me,
They say, poor gentleman, he’s much distract.
A most extracting frenzy of mine own
From my remembrance clearly banished his.
To the Fool.
How does he, sirrah?

...they are delivered.
Open ’t and read it.

...the Lord, madam—
How now, art thou mad?

...must allow vox.
Prithee, read i’ thy right wits.

...and give ear.
giving letter to Fabian
Read it you, sirrah.

...madly used Malvolio.
Did he write this?

...much of distraction.
See him delivered, Fabian. Bring him hither.
To Orsino.
My lord, so please you, these things further thought on,
To think me as well a sister as a wife,
One day shall crown th’ alliance on ’t, so please you,
Here at my house, and at my proper cost.

...Your master’s mistress.
to Viola
A sister! You are she.

...this the madman?
Ay, my lord, this same.—
How now, Malvolio?

...wrong, Notorious wrong.
Have I, Malvolio? No.
MALVOLIO, handing her a paper

...Tell me why.
Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing,
Though I confess much like the character.
But out of question, ’tis Maria’s hand.
And now I do bethink me, it was she
First told me thou wast mad; then cam’st in smiling,
And in such forms which here were presupposed
Upon thee in the letter. Prithee, be content.
This practice hath most shrewdly passed upon thee.
But when we know the grounds and authors of it,
Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge
Of thine own cause.

...both sides passed.
to Malvolio
Alas, poor fool, how have they baffled thee!

...pack of you!
He hath been most notoriously abused.

...his fancy’s queen.
All but the Fool exit.