The Big Book of Christmas

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by Anton Chekhov

We men may say more, swear more: but indeed

  Our shows are more than will; for still we prove

  Much in our vows, but little in our love.

  * * *

  DUKE ORSINO

  But died thy sister of her love, my boy?

  * * *

  VIOLA

  I am all the daughters of my father's house,

  And all the brothers too: and yet I know not.

  Sir, shall I to this lady?

  * * *

  DUKE ORSINO

  Ay, that's the theme.

  To her in haste; give her this jewel; say,

  My love can give no place, bide no denay.

  Exeunt

  Scene V. Olivia's Garden.

  Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  Come thy ways, Signior Fabian.

  * * *

  FABIAN

  Nay, I'll come: if I lose a scruple of this sport,

  let me be boiled to death with melancholy.

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  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 BELCH

  To anger him we'll have the bear again; and we will

  fool him black and blue: shall we not, Sir Andrew?

  * * *

  SIR ANDREW

  An we do not, it is pity of our lives.

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  Here comes the little villain.

  Enter MARIA

  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 behavior 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

  'Tis 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 BELCH

  Here's an overweening rogue!

  * * *

  FABIAN

  O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock

  of him: how he jets under his advanced plumes!

  * * *

  SIR ANDREW

  'Slight, I could so beat the rogue!

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  Peace, I say.

  * * *

  MALVOLIO

  To be Count Malvolio!

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  Ah, rogue!

  * * *

  SIR ANDREW

  Pistol him, pistol him.

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  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 BELCH

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

  * * *

  MALVOLIO

  Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet

  gown; having come from a day-bed, where I have left

  Olivia sleeping,—

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  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 for my

  kinsman Toby,—

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  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 watch, or play with my—some rich jewel. Toby

  approaches; courtesies there to me,—

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  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 BELCH

  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 BELCH

  What, what?

  * * *

  MALVOLIO

  'You must amend your drunkenness.'

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  Out, scab!

  * * *

  FABIAN

  Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot.

  * * *

  MALVOLIO

  'Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with

  a foolish knight,'—

  * * *

  SIR ANDREW

  That's me, I warrant you.

  * * *

  MALVOLIO

  'One Sir Andrew,'—

  * * *

  SIR ANDREW

  I knew 'twas I; for many do call me fool.

  * * *

  MALVOLIO

  What employment have we here?

  Taking up the letter

  * * *

  FABIAN

  Now is the woodcock near the gin.

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  O, peace! and the spirit of humour intimate reading

  aloud to him!

  * * *

  MALVOLIO

  By my life, this is my lady's hand these be her

  very C's, her U's and her T's and thus makes she her

  great P's. It is, in contempt of question, her hand.

  * * *

  SIR ANDREW

  Her C's, her U's and her T's: why that?

  * * *

  MALVOLIO

  [Reads] 'To the unknown beloved, this, and my good

  wishes:'—her very phrases! By your leave, wax.

  Soft! and the impressure her Lucrece, with which she

  uses to seal: 'tis my lady. To whom should this be?

  * * *

  FABIAN

  This wins him, liver and all.

  * * *

  MALVOLIO

  [Reads]

  Jove knows I love: But who?

  Lips, do not move;

  No man must know.

  'No man must know.' What follow
s? the numbers

  altered! 'No man must know:' if this should be

  thee, Malvolio?

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  Marry, hang thee, brock!

  * * *

  MALVOLIO

  [Reads]

  I may command where I adore;

  But silence, like a Lucrece knife,

  With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore:

  M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.

  * * *

  FABIAN

  A fustian riddle!

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  Excellent wench, say I.

  * * *

  MALVOLIO

  'M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.' Nay, but first, let

  me see, let me see, let me see.

  * * *

  FABIAN

  What dish o' poison has she dressed him!

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  And with what wing the staniel cheques at it!

  * * *

  MALVOLIO

  'I may command where I adore.' Why, she may command

  me: I serve her; she is my lady. Why, this is

  evident to any formal capacity; there is no

  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 BELCH

  O, ay, make up that: he is now at a cold scent.

  * * *

  FABIAN

  Sowter will cry upon't for all this, though it be 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.

  * * *

  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 BELCH

  Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make him cry O!

  * * *

  MALVOLIO

  And then I comes behind.

  * * *

  FABIAN

  Ay, an 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 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 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 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 desirest to be so; if not, let me see

  thee a 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: 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-devise 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 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 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

  entertainest my love, let it appear in thy smiling;

  thy smiles become thee well; therefore in my

  presence still smile, dear my sweet, I prithee.'

  Jove, I thank thee: I will smile; I will do

  everything 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.

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  I could marry this wench for this device.

  * * *

  SIR ANDREW

  So could I too.

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  And ask no other dowry with her but such another jest.

  * * *

  SIR ANDREW

  Nor I neither.

  * * *

  FABIAN

  Here comes my noble gull-catcher.

  Re-enter MARIA

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  Wilt thou set thy foot o' my neck?

  * * *

  SIR ANDREW

  Or o' mine either?

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  Shall I play my freedom at traytrip, and become thy

  bond-slave?

  * * *

  SIR ANDREW

  I' faith, or I either?

  * * *

  SIR TOBY BELCH

  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 BELCH

  Like aqua-vitae with a midwife.

  * * *

  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 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 BELCH

  To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit!

  * * *

  SIR ANDREW

  I'll make one too.

  Exeunt

  Part III

  Scene I. Olivia's Garden.

  Enter VIOLA, and Clown with a tabour

  VIOLA

  Save thee, friend, and thy music: dost thou live by

  thy tabour?

  * * *

  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

  I do live at my house, and my house doth stand by

&n
bsp; the church.

  * * *

  VIOLA

  So thou mayst say, the king lies by a beggar, if a

  beggar dwell near him; or, the church stands by thy

  tabour, if thy tabour stand by the church.

  * * *

  Clown

  You have said, sir. To see this age! A sentence is

  but a cheveril glove to a good wit: how quickly the

  wrong side may be turned outward!

 

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