MALVOLIO.
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.
CLOWN.
Well-a-day that you were, sir!
MALVOLIO.
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.
CLOWN.
I will help you to 't. But tell me true, are you not mad indeed,
or do you but counterfeit?
MALVOLIO.
Believe me, I am not; I tell thee true.
CLOWN.
Nay, I'll ne'er believe a madman till I see his brains. I will
fetch you light and paper and ink.
MALVOLIO.
Fool, I 'll requite it in the highest degree; I prithee, be gone.
CLOWN.
[Singing]
I am gone, sir,
And anon, sir,
I 'll be with you again,
In a trice,
Like to the old Vice,
Your need to sustain;
Who, with dagger of lath,
In his rage and his wrath,
Cries, ah, ha! to the devil:
Like a mad lad,
Pare thy nails, dad;
Adieu, goodman devil.
[Exit.]
