Twelfth Night (12 page)

SEBASTIAN
    I would not by my will have troubled you,

But since you make your pleasure of your pains,

I will no further
chide
³
you.

ANTONIO
    I could not stay behind you: my desire,

More sharp than
filèd
⁵
steel, did spur me forth,

And not
all
love to see you, though
so much
⁶

As might have drawn one to a longer voyage,

But
jealousy
⁸
what might befall your travel,

Being
skill-less in
these parts, which to a
stranger
⁹
,

Unguided and unfriended, often prove

Rough and unhospitable. My willing love,

The
rather
¹²
by these arguments of fear,

Set forth in your pursuit.

SEBASTIAN
    My kind Antonio,

I can no other answer make but thanks,

And thanks, and
ever oft
¹⁶
good turns

Are
shuffled off
with such
uncurrent
¹⁷
pay.

But were my
worth
, as is my
conscience
,
firm
¹⁸
,

You should find better
dealing.
¹⁹
What’s to do?

Shall we go see the
relics
²⁰
of this town?

ANTONIO
    Tomorrow, sir. Best first go see your lodging.

SEBASTIAN
    I am not weary, and ’tis long to night.

I pray you let us satisfy our eyes

With the memorials and the things of fame

That do
renown
²⁵
this city.

ANTONIO
    Would you’d pardon me.

I do not without danger walk these streets.

Once in a sea-fight gainst the
count his
galleys
²⁸

I did some service, of such note indeed,

That were I ta’en here
it would scarce be answered.
³⁰

SEBASTIAN
    
Belike
³¹
you slew great number of his people.

ANTONIO
    Th’offence is not of such a bloody nature,

Albeit
³³
the quality of the time and quarrel

Might well have given us
bloody argument.
³⁴

It might have since been
answered
³⁵
in repaying

What we took from them, which for
traffic’s
³⁶
sake,

Most of our city did. Only myself stood out,

For which, if I be
lapsèd
³⁸
in this place,

I shall pay dear.

SEBASTIAN
    Do not then walk too
open.
⁴⁰

ANTONIO
    It
doth not fit
⁴¹
me. Hold, sir, here’s my purse.

In the south suburbs, at the
Elephant
⁴²
,

Is best to lodge. I will
bespeak our diet
⁴³
,

Whiles you
beguile
⁴⁴
the time and feed your knowledge

With viewing of the town. There shall you
have
⁴⁵
me.

SEBASTIAN
    Why I your purse?

ANTONIO
    
Haply
your eye shall light upon some
toy
⁴⁷

You have desire to purchase, and your
store
⁴⁸
,

I think, is not for
idle markets
⁴⁹
, sir.

SEBASTIAN
    I’ll be your purse-bearer and leave you

For an hour.

ANTONIO
    To th’Elephant.

SEBASTIAN
    I do remember.

OLIVIA
    I have sent after
him
¹
: he says he’ll come.

How shall I feast him? What bestow
of
²
him?

For youth is bought more oft than begged or borrowed.

I speak too loud.—

Where’s Malvolio? He is
sad
and
civil
⁵
,

And suits well for a servant with my fortunes.

Where is Malvolio?

MARIA
    He’s coming, madam, but in very strange manner.

He is sure
possessed
⁹
, madam.

OLIVIA
    Why, what’s the matter? Does he rave?

MARIA
    No, madam, he does nothing but smile: your

ladyship were best to have some guard about you, if he

come, for sure the man is tainted in’s wits.

OLIVIA
    Go call him hither.— I am as mad as he,

If sad and merry madness equal be.

How now, Malvolio?

MALVOLIO
    Sweet lady, ho, ho.

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

MALVOLIO
    
Sad
¹⁹
, 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’.
²²

OLIVIA
    Why, how dost thou, man? What is the matter with

thee?

MALVOLIO
    Not
black
in my mind, though yellow in my legs.
It
²⁵

did come to
his
²⁶
hands, and commands shall be executed. I

think we do know the sweet
Roman hand.
²⁷

OLIVIA
    Wilt thou
go to bed
²⁸
, Malvolio?

MALVOLIO
    To bed? Ay, sweetheart, and I’ll come to thee.

OLIVIA
    God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so and
kiss
³⁰

thy hand so oft?

MARIA
    How do you, Malvolio?

MALVOLIO
    At your request! Yes, nightingales answer
daws.
³³

MARIA
    Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness

before my lady?

MALVOLIO
    ‘Be not afraid of greatness.’ ’Twas well writ.

OLIVIA
    What meanest thou by that, Malvolio?

MALVOLIO
    ‘Some are born great’—

OLIVIA
    Ha?

MALVOLIO
    ‘Some achieve greatness’—

OLIVIA
    What say’st thou?

MALVOLIO
    ‘And some have greatness thrust upon them.’

OLIVIA
    Heaven restore thee!

MALVOLIO
    ‘Remember who commended thy yellow stockings’—

OLIVIA
    Thy yellow stockings?

MALVOLIO
    ‘And wished to see thee cross-gartered.’

OLIVIA
    Cross-gartered?

MALVOLIO
    ‘Go to, thou art made, if thou desirest to be so’—

OLIVIA
    Am I made?

MALVOLIO
    ‘If not, let me see thee a servant still.’

OLIVIA
    Why, this is very
midsummer
⁵¹
madness.

SERVANT
    Madam, the young gentleman of the count Orsino’s

is returned. I could
hardly
entreat him back. He
attends
⁵³
your

ladyship’s pleasure.

OLIVIA
    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
⁵⁸
for the half of my dowry.

MALVOLIO
    O, ho! Do you
come near
⁵⁹
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
⁶⁵

sets down the manner how: as, a sad face, a
reverend
⁶⁶

carriage, a slow tongue, in the
habit
of some
sir of note
⁶⁷
, and

so forth. I have
limed
⁶⁸
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
⁷⁰
, but

fellow. Why, everything adheres together, that no
dram
⁷¹
of a

scruple
, no scruple of a scruple, no obstacle, no
incredulous
⁷²

or
unsafe
⁷³
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.

SIR TOBY
    Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all the

devils of hell be
drawn in little
, and
Legion
⁷⁸
himself possessed

him, yet I’ll speak to him.

FABIAN
    Here he is, here he is. How is’t with you, sir? How

is’t with you, man?

MALVOLIO
    Go off. I discard you. Let me enjoy my
private.
⁸²
Go off.

MARIA
    
Lo
, how
hollow
⁸³
the fiend speaks within him! Did not

I tell you? Sir Toby, my lady prays you to
have a
⁸⁴
care of him.

MALVOLIO
    Ah, ha, does she so?

SIR TOBY
    Go to, go to. Peace, peace. We must deal gently with

him.
Let me alone.
⁸⁷
— How do you, Malvolio? How is’t with

you? What, man, defy the devil! Consider, he’s an enemy to

mankind.

MALVOLIO
    Do you know what you say?

MARIA
    
La
⁹¹
you, an you speak ill of the devil, how he takes it

at heart! Pray God, he be not bewitched!

FABIAN
    Carry his
water
to th’
wise woman.
⁹³

MARIA
    Marry, and it shall be done tomorrow morning, if I

live. My lady would not lose him for more than I’ll say.

MALVOLIO
    How now, mistress?

MARIA
    O Lord!

SIR TOBY
    Prithee hold thy peace, this is not the way. Do you

not see you
move
⁹⁹
him? Let me alone with him.

FABIAN
    No way but gentleness, gently, gently. The fiend is

rough, and will not be roughly used.

SIR TOBY
    Why, how now, my
bawcock?
¹⁰²
How dost thou,

chuck?
¹⁰³

MALVOLIO
    Sir!

SIR TOBY
    Ay,
Biddy
¹⁰⁵
, come with me. What, man, ’tis not for

gravity
to play at
cherry-pit
with Satan. Hang him,
foul
¹⁰⁶

collier!

MARIA
    Get him to say his prayers, good Sir Toby, get him to

pray.

MALVOLIO
    My prayers, minx?

MARIA
    No, I warrant you he will not hear of godliness.

MALVOLIO
    Go, hang yourselves all! You are
idle
¹¹²
shallow things.

I am not of your
element.
¹¹³
You shall know more hereafter.