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*enter*
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?
He’s coming, madam, but in very strange manner.
He is sure possessed, madam.
Why, what’s the matter? Does he rave?
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.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.
Go call him hither.
I am as mad as he,
If sad and merry madness equal be.
How now, Malvolio?
Sweet lady, ho, ho!
Smil’st thou? I sent for thee upon 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.”
Why, how dost thou, man? What is the 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.
Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio?
To bed? “Ay, sweetheart, and I’ll come to
thee.”
God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so, and
kiss thy hand so oft?
“Be not afraid of greatness.” ’Twas well writ.
What mean’st thou 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.”
Why, this is very midsummer madness!
Madam, the young gentleman of the Count
Orsino’s is returned. I could hardly entreat him
back. He attends 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.
*enter*
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.
With the same ’havior that your passion bears
Goes on 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?
Nothing but this: your true love for my master.
How with mine honor may I give him that
Which I have given to you?
I will acquit you.
Well, come again tomorrow. Fare thee well.
A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell.