Twelfth Night By William Shakespeare Act II: Scene 5

SCENE V. OLIVIA'S garden.

[Enter SIR TOBY, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN.]

SIR TOBY.
Come thy ways, Signior Fabian.

FABIAN.
Nay, I'll come: if I lose a scruple of this sport, let me be
boil'd to death with melancholy.

SIR TOBY.
Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly rascally
sheep-biter come by some notable shame?

FABIAN.
I would exult, man; you know he brought me out o' favour with my
lady about a bear-baiting here.

SIR TOBY.
To anger him, we'll have the bear again; and we will fool him
black and blue: shall we not, Sir Andrew?

SIR ANDREW.
And we do not, it is pity of our lives.

[Enter MARIA.]

SIR TOBY.
Here comes the little villain.
How now, my metal of India!

MARIA.
Get ye all three into the box-tree; Malvolio's coming down this
walk. He has been yonder i' the sun practising behaviour to his
own shadow this half hour. Observe him, for the love of mockery;
for I know this letter will make a contemplative idiot of him.
Close, in the name of jesting! Lie thou there [throws down a
letter], for here comes the trout that must be caught with
tickling.

[Exit.]

[Enter MALVOLIO.]

MALVOLIO.
'T is 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 any one else that follows
her. What should I think on 't?

SIR TOBY.
Here 's an overweening rogue!

FABIAN.
O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him; how he
jets under his advanc'd plumes!

SIR ANDREW.
'Slight, I could so beat the rogue!

SIR TOBY.
Peace, I say.

MALVOLIO.
To be Count Malvolio!

SIR TOBY.
Ah, rogue!

SIR ANDREW.
Pistol him, pistol him.

SIR TOBY.
Peace, peace!

MALVOLIO.
There is example for't: the lady of the Strachy married the
yeoman of the wardrobe.

SIR ANDREW.
Fie on him, Jezebel!

FABIAN.
O, peace! now he's deeply in; look how imagination blows him.

MALVOLIO.
Having been three months married to her, sitting in my state, —

SIR TOBY.
O, for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye!

MALVOLIO.
Calling my officers about me, in my branch'd velvet gown; having
come from a day-bed, where I have left Olivia sleeping, —

SIR TOBY.
Fire and brimstone!

FABIAN.
O, peace, peace!

MALVOLIO.
And then to have the humour 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, —

SIR TOBY.
Bolts and shackles!

FABIAN.
O, peace, peace, peace! now, now.

MALVOLIO.
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, —

SIR TOBY.
Shall this fellow live?

FABIAN.
Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace.

MALVOLIO.
I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar smile with an
austere regard of control, —

SIR TOBY.
And does not Toby take you a blow o' the lips, then?

MALVOLIO.
Saying, 'Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast me on your niece,
give me this prerogative of speech,' —

SIR TOBY.
What, what?

MALVOLIO.
'You must amend your drunkenness.' —

SIR TOBY.
Out, scab!

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