The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works
Page 528
this is evident to any formal capacity. There is no
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obstruction in this. And the end: what should that
alphabetical position portend? If I could make that
resemble something in me! Softly! ‘M.O.A.I.’ –
SIR TOBY O ay, make up that! He is now at a cold scent.
FABIAN Sowter will cry upon’t for all this, though it be
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as rank as a fox.
MALVOLIO ‘M’ – Malvolio! ‘M’! Why, that begins my
name!
FABIAN Did not I say he would work it out? the cur is
excellent at faults.
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MALVOLIO ‘M’ – But then there is no consonancy in the
sequel; that suffers under probation: ‘A’ should follow,
but ‘O’ does.
FABIAN And ‘O’ shall end, I hope.
SIR TOBY Ay, or I’ll cudgel him, and make him cry ‘O’!
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MALVOLIO And then ‘I’ comes behind.
FABIAN Ay, and you had any eye behind you, you might
see more detraction at your heels than fortunes before
you.
MALVOLIO ‘M.O.A.I.’ This simulation is not as the
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former: and yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to
me, for every one of these letters are in my name.
Soft! here follows prose. [Reads.] If this fall into thy
hand, revolve. In my stars I am above thee, but be not
afraid of greatness. Some are born great, some achieve
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greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon ’em. Thy
fates open their hands, let thy blood and spirit embrace
them, and to inure thyself to what thou art like to be, cast
thy humble slough, and appear fresh. Be opposite with a
kinsman, surly with servants. Let thy tongue tang
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arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of singularity.
She thus advises thee, that sighs for thee. Remember who
commended thy yellow stockings, and wished to see thee
ever cross-gartered: I say, remember. Go to, thou art
made, if thou desir’st to be so. If not, let me see thee a
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steward still, the fellow of servants, and not worthy to
touch Fortune’s fingers. Farewell. She that would alter
services with thee,
The Fortunate Unhappy.
Daylight and champaign discovers not more!
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This is open. I will be proud, I will read politic
authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off gross
acquaintance, I will be point-device the very man. I do
not now fool myself, to let imagination jade me; for
every reason excites to this, that my lady loves me. She
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did commend my yellow stockings of late, she did
praise my leg being cross-gartered, and in this she
manifests herself to my love, and with a kind of
injunction drives me to these habits of her liking. I
thank my stars, I am happy. I will be strange, stout, in
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yellow stockings, and cross-gartered, even with the
swiftness of putting on. Jove and my stars be
praised! – Here is yet a postscript. [Reads.] Thou
canst not choose but know who I am. If thou entertain’st
my love, let it appear in thy smiling, thy smiles become
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thee well. Therefore in my presence still smile, dear my
sweet, I prithee. Jove, I thank thee, I will smile, I will
do every thing that thou wilt have me. Exit.
FABIAN I will not give my part of this sport for a pension
of thousands to be paid from the Sophy.
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SIR TOBY I could marry this wench for this device.
SIR ANDREW So could I too.
SIR TOBY And ask no other dowry with her but such
another jest.
Enter MARIA.
SIR ANDREW Nor I neither.
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FABIAN Here comes my noble gull-catcher.
SIR TOBY Wilt thou set thy foot o’ my neck?
SIR ANDREW Or o’ mine either?
SIR TOBY Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and
become thy bond-slave?
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SIR ANDREW I’faith, or I either?
SIR TOBY Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that
when the image of it leaves him he must run mad.
MARIA Nay, but say true, does it work upon him?
SIR TOBY Like aqua-vitae with a midwife.
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MARIA If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark
his first approach before my lady: he will come to her
in yellow stockings, and ’tis a colour she abhors, and
cross-gartered, a fashion she detests: and he will smile
upon her, which will now be so unsuitable to her
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disposition, being addicted to a melancholy as she is,
that it cannot but turn him into a notable contempt. If
you will see it, follow me.
SIR TOBY To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent
devil of wit!
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SIR ANDREW I’ll make one too. Exeunt.
3.1 Enter VIOLA, and Clown playing on pipe and tabor.
VIOLA Save thee, friend, and thy music! Dost thou live
by thy tabor?
CLOWN No, sir, I live by the church.
VIOLA Art thou a churchman?
CLOWN No such matter, sir. I do live by the church, for
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I do live at my house, and my house doth stand by the
church.
VIOLA So thou may’st say the king lies by a beggar, if a
beggar dwell near him; or the church stands by thy
tabor, if thy tabor stand by the church.
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CLOWN You have said, sir. To see this age! A sentence is
but a chev’ril glove to a good wit – how quickly the
wrong side may be turned outward!
VIOLA Nay, that’s certain: they that dally nicely with
words may quickly make them wanton.
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CLOWN I would therefore my sister had had no name,
sir.
VIOLA Why, man?
CLOWN Why, sir, her name’s a word, and to dally with
that word might make my sister wanton. But indeed,
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words are very rascals, since bonds disgraced them.
VIOLA Thy reason, man?
CLOWN Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words,
and words are grown so false, I am loath to prove
reason with them.
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VIOLA I warrant thou art a merry fellow, and car’st for
nothing.
CLOWN Not so, sir, I do care for something; but in my
conscience, sir, I do not care for you: if that be to
care for nothing, sir, I would it would make you
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invisible.
VIOLA Art not thou the Lady Olivia’s fool?
CLOWN No indeed sir, the Lady Olivia has no folly. She
will keep no fool, sir, till she be married, and fools are
as like husbands as pilchards are to herrings, the
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husband’s the bigger. I am indeed not her fool, but her
corrupter of words.
VIOLA I saw thee late at the Count Orsino’s.
CLOWN Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the
sun, it shines everywhere. I would be sorry, sir, but the
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fool should be as oft with yo
ur master as with my
mistress: I think I saw your wisdom there.
VIOLA Nay, and thou pass upon me, I’ll no more with
thee. Hold, there’s expenses for thee. [giving a coin]
CLOWN Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send
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thee a beard!
VIOLA By my troth, I’ll tell thee, I am almost sick for
one, [aside] though I would not have it grow on my
chin. – Is thy lady within?
CLOWN Would not a pair of these have bred, sir?
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VIOLA Yes, being kept together, and put to use.
CLOWN I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia, sir, to
bring a Cressida to this Troilus.
VIOLA I understand you, sir, ’tis well begged.
[giving another coin]
CLOWN The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, begging but
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a beggar: Cressida was a beggar. My lady is within, sir.
I will conster to them whence you come; who you are
and what you would are out of my welkin. I might say
‘element’, but the word is overworn. Exit.
VIOLA This fellow is wise enough to play the fool,
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And to do that well, craves a kind of wit:
He must observe their mood on whom he jests,
The quality of persons, and the time,
And like the haggard, check at every feather
That comes before his eye. This is a practice
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As full of labour as a wise man’s art:
For folly that he wisely shows is fit;
But wise men, folly-fall’n, quite taint their wit.
Enter SIR TOBY and SIR ANDREW.
SIR TOBY Save you, gentleman.
VIOLA And you, sir.
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SIR ANDREW Dieu vous garde, monsieur.
VIOLA Et vous aussi: votre serviteur.
SIR ANDREW I hope, sir, you are, and I am yours.
SIR TOBY Will you encounter the house? My niece is
desirous you should enter, if your trade be to her.
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VIOLA I am bound to your niece, sir; I mean, she is the
list of my voyage.
SIR TOBY Taste your legs, sir, put them to motion.
VIOLA My legs do better understand me, sir, than I
understand what you mean by bidding me taste my
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legs.
SIR TOBY I mean, to go, sir, to enter.
VIOLA I will answer you with gait and entrance; but we
are prevented.
Enter OLIVIA and MARIA.
Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain
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odours on you!
SIR ANDREW That youth’s a rare courtier: ‘rain odours’
– well.
VIOLA My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your own
most pregnant and vouchsafed ear.
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SIR ANDREW ‘Odours’, ‘pregnant’, and ‘vouchsafed’: I’ll
get ’em all three all ready.
OLIVIA Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my
hearing. Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew and Maria.
Give me your hand, sir.
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VIOLA My duty, madam, and most humble service.
OLIVIA What is your name?
VIOLA Cesario is your servant’s name, fair princess.
OLIVIA My servant, sir? ’Twas never merry world
Since lowly feigning was call’d compliment:
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Y’are servant to the Count Orsino, youth.
VIOLA And he is yours, and his must needs be yours:
Your servant’s servant is your servant, madam.
OLIVIA For him, I think not on him: for his thoughts,
Would they were blanks, rather than fill’d with me.
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VIOLA Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts
On his behalf.
OLIVIA 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,
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Than music from the spheres.
VIOLA Dear lady –
OLIVIA 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.
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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 honour at the stake,
And baited it with all th’unmuzzled thoughts
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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.
VIOLA I pity you.