Twelfth Night; Or, What You Will

ACT IV

SCENE I. Before OLIVIA'S house

Enter SEBASTIAN and CLOWNCLOWN. Will you make me believe that I am not sent for you?  SEBASTIAN. Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow; let me be clear of thee.  CLOWN. Well held out, i' faith! No, I do not know you; nor I am not    sent to you by my lady, to bid you come speak with her; nor your    name is not Master Cesario; nor this is not my nose neither.    Nothing that is so is so.  SEBASTIAN. I prithee vent thy folly somewhere else.    Thou know'st not me.  CLOWN. Vent my folly! He has heard that word of some great man,and now applies it to a fool. Vent my folly! I am afraid thisgreat lubber, the world, will prove a cockney. I prithee now,ungird thy strangeness, and tell me what I shall vent to my lady.Shall I vent to her that thou art coming?  SEBASTIAN. I prithee, foolish Greek, depart from me;    There's money for thee; if you tarry longer    I shall give worse payment.  CLOWN. By my troth, thou hast an open hand. These wise men that    give fools money get themselves a good report after fourteen    years' purchase.Enter SIR ANDREW, SIR TOBY, and FABIANAGUECHEEK. Now, sir, have I met you again?    [Striking SEBASTIAN] There's for you.  SEBASTIAN. Why, there's for thee, and there, and there.    Are all the people mad?  SIR TOBY. Hold, sir, or I'll throw your dagger o'er the house.[Holding SEBASTIAN]  CLOWN. This will I tell my lady straight. I would not be in some of your coats for two-pence. Exit  SIR TOBY. Come on, sir; hold.  AGUECHEEK. Nay, let him alone. I'll go another way to work with    him; I'll have an action of battery against him, if there be any    law in Illyria; though I struck him first, yet it's no matter for that.  SEBASTIAN. Let go thy hand.  SIR TOBY. Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier,    put up your iron; you are well flesh'd. Come on.  SEBASTIAN. I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou now?    If thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword. [Draws]  SIR TOBY. What, what? Nay, then I must have an ounce or two of this malapert blood from you. [Draws]Enter OLIVIAOLIVIA. Hold, Toby; on thy life, I charge thee hold.  SIR TOBY. Madam!  OLIVIA. Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch,    Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves,    Where manners ne'er were preach'd! Out of my sight!    Be not offended, dear Cesario-    Rudesby, be gone!Exeunt SIR TOBY, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN    I prithee, gentle friend,    Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway    In this uncivil and unjust extent    Against thy peace. Go with me to my house,    And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks    This ruffian hath botch'd up, that thou thereby    Mayst smile at this. Thou shalt not choose but go;    Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me!    He started one poor heart of mine in thee.  SEBASTIAN. What relish is in this? How runs the stream?    Or I am mad, or else this is a dream.    Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;    If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!  OLIVIA. Nay, come, I prithee. Would thou'dst be rul'd by me!  SEBASTIAN. Madam, I will.  OLIVIA. O, say so, and so be! Exeunt

SCENE II. OLIVIA'S house

Enter MARIA and CLOWNMARIA. Nay, I prithee, put on this gown and this beard; make him    believe thou art Sir Topas the curate; do it quickly. I'll call    Sir Toby the whilst. Exit  CLOWN. Well, I'll put it on, and I will dissemble myself in't; and    I would I were the first that ever dissembled in such a gown.I am not tall enough to become the function well nor lean enough to    be thought a good student; but to be said an honest man and a    good housekeeper goes as fairly as to say a careful man and a    great scholar. The competitors enter.Enter SIR TOBY and MARIASIR TOBY. Jove bless thee, Master Parson.  CLOWN. Bonos dies, Sir Toby; for as the old hermit of Prague, that    never saw pen and ink, very wittily said to niece of King    Gorboduc 'That that is is'; so I, being Master Parson, am Master    Parson; for what is 'that' but that, and 'is' but is?  SIR TOBY. To him, Sir Topas.  CLOWN. What ho, I say! Peace in this prison!  SIR TOBY. The knave counterfeits well; a good knave.  MALVOLIO. [Within] Who calls there?  CLOWN. Sir Topas the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio the    lunatic.  MALVOLIO. Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to my lady.  CLOWN. Out, hyperbolical fiend! How vexest thou this man!    Talkest thou nothing but of ladies?  SIR TOBY. Well said, Master Parson.  MALVOLIO. Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged.Good Sir Topas, do not think I am mad; they have laid me here in hideous darkness.  CLOWN. Fie, thou dishonest Satan! I call thee by the most modest    terms, for I am one of those gentle ones that will use the devil    himself with courtesy. Say'st thou that house is dark?  MALVOLIO. As hell, Sir Topas.  CLOWN. Why, it hath bay windows transparent as barricadoes, and the    clerestories toward the south north are as lustrous as ebony; and    yet complainest thou of obstruction?  MALVOLIO. I am not mad, Sir Topas. I say to you this house is dark.  CLOWN. Madman, thou errest. I say there is no darkness but    ignorance; in which thou art more puzzled than the Egyptians in their fog.  MALVOLIO. I say this house is as dark as ignorance, though    ignorance were as dark as hell; and I say there was never man    thus abus'd. I am no more mad than you are; make the trial of it    in any constant question.  CLOWN. What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild fowl?  MALVOLIO. That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit abird.  CLOWN. What think'st thou of his opinion?  MALVOLIO. I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his    opinion.  CLOWN. Fare thee well. Remain thou still in darkness: thou shalt   hold th' opinion of Pythagoras ere I will allow of thy wits; and    fear to kill a woodcock, lest thou dispossess the soul of thy    grandam. Fare thee well.  MALVOLIO. Sir Topas, Sir Topas!  SIR TOBY. My most exquisite Sir Topas!  CLOWN. Nay, I am for all waters.  MARIA. Thou mightst have done this without thy beard and gown:he sees thee not.  SIR TOBY. To him in thine own voice, and bring me word how thou    find'st him. I would we were well rid of this knavery. If he may    be conveniently deliver'd, I would he were; for I am now so far    in offence with my niece that I cannot pursue with any safety    this sport to the upshot. Come by and by to my chamber.Exit with MARIA  CLOWN. [Sings] Hey, Robin, jolly Robin,    Tell me how thy lady does.  MALVOLIO. Fool!  CLOWN. [Sings] My lady is unkind, perdy.  MALVOLIO. Fool!  CLOWN. [Sings] Alas, why is she so?  MALVOLIO. Fool I say!  CLOWN. [Sings] She loves another- Who calls, ha?  MALVOLIO. Good fool, as ever thou wilt deserve well at my hand,    help me to a candle, and pen, ink, and paper; as I am a    gentleman, I will live to be thankful to thee for't.  CLOWN. Master Malvolio?  MALVOLIO. Ay, good fool.  CLOWN. Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits?  MALVOLIO. Fool, there was never man so notoriously abus'd;    I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art.  CLOWN. But as well? Then you are mad indeed, if you be no better in your wits than a fool.  MALVOLIO. They have here propertied me; keep me in darkness, send    ministers to me, asses, and do all they can to face me out of my wits.  CLOWN. Advise you what. you say: the minister is here.    [Speaking as SIR TOPAS] Malvolio, thy wits the heavens restore!    Endeavour thyself to sleep, and leave thy vain bibble-babble.  MALVOLIO. Sir Topas!  CLOWN. Maintain no words with him, good fellow. – Who, I, sir?Not    I, sir. God buy you, good Sir Topas. – Marry, amen. – I will sir, I will.  MALVOLIO. Fool, fool, fool, I say!  CLOWN. Alas, sir, be patient. What say you, sir? I am shent for    speaking to you.  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 prithe 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

SCENE III. OLIVIA'S garden

Enter SEBASTIANSEBASTIAN. This is the air; that is the glorious sun;    This pearl she gave me, I do feel't and see't;    And though 'tis wonder that enwraps me thus,    Yet 'tis not madness. Where's Antonio, then?    I could not find him at the Elephant;    Yet there he was; and there I found this credit,    That he did range the town to seek me out.    His counsel now might do me golden service;    For though my soul disputes well with my sense    That this may be some error, but no madness,    Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune    So far exceed all instance, all discourse,    That I am ready to distrust mine eyes    And wrangle with my reason, that persuades me    To any other trust but that I am mad,    Or else the lady's mad; yet if 'twere so,    She could not sway her house, command her followers,    Take and give back affairs and their dispatch    With such a smooth, discreet, and stable bearing,    As I perceive she does. There's something in't    That is deceivable. But here the lady comes.Enter OLIVIA and PRIESTOLIVIA. Blame not this haste of mine. If you mean well,    Now go with me and with this holy man    Into the chantry by; there, before him    And underneath that consecrated roof,    Plight me the fun assurance of your faith,    That my most jealous and too doubtful soul    May live at peace. He shall conceal it    Whiles you are willing it shall come to note,    What time we will our celebration keep    According to my birth. What do you say?  SEBASTIAN. I'll follow this good man, and go with you;    And, having sworn truth, ever will be true.  OLIVIA. Then lead the way, good father; and heavens so shine    That they may fairly note this act of mine! Exeunt

ACT V

SCENE I. Before OLIVIA's house

Enter CLOWN and FABIANFABIAN. Now, as thou lov'st me, let me see his letter.  CLOWN. Good Master Fabian, grant me another request.  FABIAN. Anything.  CLOWN. Do not desire to see this letter.  FABIAN. This is to give a dog, and in recompense desire my dog again.Enter DUKE, VIOLA, CURIO, and LORDSDUKE. Belong you to the Lady Olivia, friends?  CLOWN. Ay, sir, we are some of her trappings.  DUKE. I know thee well. How dost thou, my good fellow?  CLOWN. Truly, sir, the better for my foes and the worse for my friends.  DUKE. Just the contrary: the better for thy friends.  CLOWN. No, sir, the worse.  DUKE. How can that be?  CLOWN. Marry, sir, they praise me and make an ass of me. Now my    foes tell me plainly I am an ass; so that by my foes, sir, I    profit in the knowledge of myself, and by my friends I am abused;    so that, conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives make    your two affirmatives, why then, the worse for my friends, and    the better for my foes.  DUKE. Why, this is excellent.  CLOWN. By my troth, sir, no; though it please you to be one of my friends.  DUKE. Thou shalt not be the worse for me. There's gold.  CLOWN. But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I would you could    make it another.  DUKE. O, you give me ill counsel.  CLOWN. Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this once, and let    your flesh and blood obey it.  DUKE. Well, I will be so much a sinner to be a double-dealer.    There's another.  CLOWN. Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play; and the old saying    is 'The third pays for all.' The triplex, sir, is a good tripping    measure; or the bells of Saint Bennet, sir, may put you in mind one, two, three.  DUKE. You can fool no more money out of me at this throw; if you    will let your lady know I am here to speak with her, and bring    her along with you, it may awake my bounty further.  CLOWN. Marry, sir, lullaby to your bounty till I come again. I go,    sir; but I would not have you to think that my desire of having    is the sin of covetousness. But, as you say, sir, let your bounty    take a nap; I will awake it anon. ExitEnter ANTONIO and OFFICERSVIOLA. Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me.  DUKE. That face of his I do remember well;    Yet when I saw it last it was besmear'd    As black as Vulcan in the smoke of war.    A baubling vessel was he captain of,    For shallow draught and bulk unprizable,    With which such scathful grapple did he make    With the most noble bottom of our fleet    That very envy and the tongue of los    Cried fame and honour on him. What's the matter?  FIRST OFFICER. Orsino, this is that Antonio    That took the Phoenix and her fraught from Candy;    And this is he that did the Tiger board    When your young nephew Titus lost his leg.    Here in the streets, desperate of shame and state,    In private brabble did we apprehend him.  VIOLA. He did me kindness, sir; drew on my side;    But in conclusion put strange speech upon me.    I know not what 'twas but distraction.  DUKE. Notable pirate, thou salt-water thief!    What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies    Whom thou, in terms so bloody and so dear,    Hast made thine enemies?  ANTONIO. Orsino, noble sir,    Be pleas'd that I shake off these names you give me:    Antonio never yet was thief or pirate,    Though I confess, on base and ground enough,    Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither:    That most ingrateful boy there by your side    From the rude sea's enrag'd and foamy mouth    Did I redeem; a wreck past hope he was.    His life I gave him, and did thereto ad    My love without retention or restraint,    All his in dedication; for his sake,    Did I expose myself, pure for his love,    Into the danger of this adverse town;    Drew to defend him when he was beset;    Where being apprehended, his false cunning,    Not meaning to partake with me in danger,    Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,    And grew a twenty years removed thing    While one would wink; denied me mine own purse,    Which I had recommended to his use    Not half an hour before.  VIOLA. How can this be?  DUKE. When came he to this town?  ANTONIO. To-day, my lord; and for three months before,    No int'rim, not a minute's vacancy,    Both day and night did we keep company.Enter OLIVIA and ATTENDANTSDUKE. Here comes the Countess; now heaven walks on earth.    But for thee, fellow- fellow, thy words are madness.    Three months this youth hath tended upon me-    But more of that anon. Take him aside.  OLIVIA. What would my lord, but that he may not have,    Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?    Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.  VIOLA. Madam?  DUKE. Gracious Olivia-  OLIVIA. What do you say, Cesario? Good my lord-  VIOLA. My lord would speak; my duty hushes me.  OLIVIA. If it be aught to the old tune, my lord,    It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear    As howling after music.  DUKE. Still so cruel?  OLIVIA. Still so constant, lord.  DUKE. What, to perverseness? You uncivil lady,    To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars    My soul the faithfull'st off'rings hath breath'd out    That e'er devotion tender'd! What shall I do?  OLIVIA. Even what it please my lord, that shall become him.  DUKE. Why should I not, had I the heart to do it,    Like to the Egyptian thief at point of death,    Kill what I love? – a savage jealousy    That sometime savours nobly. But hear me this:    Since you to non-regardance cast my faith,    And that I partly know the instrument    That screws me from my true place in your favour,    Live you the marble-breasted tyrant still;    But this your minion, whom I know you love,    And whom, by heaven I swear, I tender dearly,    Him will I tear out of that cruel eye    Where he sits crowned in his master's spite.    Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mischief:    I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love    To spite a raven's heart within a dove.  VIOLA. And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly,    To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.  OLIVIA. Where goes Cesario?  VIOLA. After him I love    More than I love these eyes, more than my life,    More, by all mores, than e'er I shall love wife.    If I do feign, you witnesses above    Punish my life for tainting of my love!  OLIVIA. Ay me, detested! How am I beguil'd!  VIOLA. Who does beguile you? Who does do you wrong?  OLIVIA. Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long?    Call forth the holy father. Exit an ATTENDANT  DUKE. Come, away!  OLIVIA. Whither, my lord? Cesario, husband, stay.  DUKE. Husband?  OLIVIA. Ay, husband; can he that deny?  DUKE. Her husband, sirrah?  VIOLA. No, my lord, not I.  OLIVIA. Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear    That makes thee strangle thy propriety.    Fear not, Cesario, take thy fortunes up;    Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art    As great as that thou fear'st.Enter PRIESTO, welcome, father!    Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence,    Here to unfold- though lately we intended    To keep in darkness what occasion now    Reveals before 'tis ripe- what thou dost know    Hath newly pass'd between this youth and me.  PRIEST. A contract of eternal bond of love,    Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands,    Attested by the holy close of lips,    Strength'ned by interchangement of your rings;    And all the ceremony of this compact    Seal'd in my function, by my testimony;    Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave,    I have travell'd but two hours.  DUKE. O thou dissembling cub! What wilt thou be,    When time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy case?    Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow    That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow?    Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feet    Where thou and I henceforth may never meet.  VIOLA. My lord, I do protest-  OLIVIA. O, do not swear!    Hold little faith, though thou has too much fear.Enter SIR ANDREWAGUECHEEK. For the love of God, a surgeon!    Send one presently to Sir Toby.  OLIVIA. What's the matter?  AGUECHEEK. Has broke my head across, and has given Sir Toby a    bloody coxcomb too. For the love of God, your help! I had rather    than forty pound I were at home.  OLIVIA. Who has done this, Sir Andrew?  AGUECHEEK. The Count's gentleman, one Cesario. We took him for a    coward, but he's the very devil incardinate.  DUKE. My gentleman, Cesario?  AGUECHEEK. Od's lifelings, here he is! You broke my head for    nothing; and that that did, I was set on to do't by Sir Toby.  VIOLA. Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you.    You drew your sword upon me without cause;    But I bespake you fair and hurt you not.Enter SIR TOBY and CLOWNAGUECHEEK. If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me; I think    you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb. Here comes Sir Toby halting;    you shall hear more; but if he had not been in drink, he would    have tickl'd you othergates than he did.  DUKE. How now, gentleman? How is't with you?  SIR TOBY. That's all one; has hurt me, and there's th' end on't.    Sot, didst see Dick Surgeon, sot?  CLOWN. O, he's drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyes were set at eight i' th' morning.  SIR TOBY. Then he's a rogue and a passy measures pavin. I hate a drunken rogue.  OLIVIA. Away with him. Who hath made this havoc with them?  AGUECHEEK. I'll help you, Sir Toby, because we'll be dress'd together.  SIR TOBY. Will you help- an ass-head and a coxcomb and a knave, a thin fac'd knave, a gull?  OLIVIA. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to.Exeunt CLOWN, FABIAN, SIR TOBY, and SIR ANDREWEnter SEBASTIANSEBASTIAN. I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kinsman;    But, had it been the brother of my blood,    I must have done no less with wit and safety.    You throw a strange regard upon me, and by that    I do perceive it hath offended you.    Pardon me, sweet one, even for the vows    We made each other but so late ago.  DUKE. One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons!    A natural perspective, that is and is not.  SEBASTIAN. Antonio, O my dear Antonio!    How have the hours rack'd and tortur'd me    Since I have lost thee!  ANTONIO. Sebastian are you?  SEBASTIAN. Fear'st thou that, Antonio?  ANTONIO. How have you made division of yourself?    An apple cleft in two is not more twin    Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian?  OLIVIA. Most wonderful!  SEBASTIAN. Do I stand there? I never had a brother;    Nor can there be that deity in my nature    Of here and everywhere. I had a sister    Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd.    Of charity, what kin are you to me?    What countryman, what name, what parentage?  VIOLA. Of Messaline; Sebastian was my father.    Such a Sebastian was my brother too;    So went he suited to his watery tomb;    If spirits can assume both form and suit,    You come to fright us.  SEBASTIAN. A spirit I am indeed,    But am in that dimension grossly clad    Which from the womb I did participate.    Were you a woman, as the rest goes even,    I should my tears let fall upon your cheek,    And say 'Thrice welcome, drowned Viola!'  VIOLA. My father had a mole upon his brow.  SEBASTIAN. And so had mine.  VIOLA. And died that day when Viola from her birth    Had numb'red thirteen years.  SEBASTIAN. O, that record is lively in my soul!    He finished indeed his mortal act    That day that made my sister thirteen years.  VIOLA. If nothing lets to make us happy both    But this my masculine usurp'd attire,    Do not embrace me till each circumstance    Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and jump    That I am Viola; which to confirm,    I'll bring you to a captain in this town,    Where lie my maiden weeds; by whose gentle help    I was preserv'd to serve this noble Count.    All the occurrence of my fortune since    Hath been between this lady and this lord.  SEBASTIAN. [To OLIVIA] So Comes it, lady, you have beenmistook;    But nature to her bias drew in that.    You would have been contracted to a maid;    Nor are you therein, by my life, deceiv'd;    You are betroth'd both to a maid and man.  DUKE. Be not amaz'd; right noble is his blood.    If this be so, as yet the glass seems true,    I shall have share in this most happy wreck.    [To VIOLA] Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times    Thou never shouldst love woman like to me.  VIOLA. And all those sayings will I overswear;    And all those swearings keep as true in soul    As doth that orbed continent the fire    That severs day from night.  DUKE. Give me thy hand;    And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds.  VIOLA. The captain that did bring me first on shore    Hath my maid's garments. He, upon some action,    Is now in durance, at Malvolio's suit,    A gentleman and follower of my lady's.  OLIVIA. He shall enlarge him. Fetch Malvolio hither;    And yet, alas, now I remember me,    They say, poor gentleman, he's much distract.Re-enter CLOWN, with a letter, and FABIANA most extracting frenzy of mine own    From my remembrance clearly banish'd his.    How does he, sirrah?  CLOWN. Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the stave's end as well    as a man in his case may do. Has here writ a letter to you; I    should have given 't you to-day morning, but as a madman's    epistles are no gospels, so it skills not much when they are deliver'd.  OLIVIA. Open't, and read it.  CLOWN. Look then to be well edified when the fool delivers the    madman. [Reads madly] 'By the Lord, madam-'  OLIVIA. How now! Art thou mad?  CLOWN. No, madam, I do but read madness. An your ladyship will have    it as it ought to be, you must allow vox.  OLIVIA. Prithee read i' thy right wits.  CLOWN. So I do, madonna; but to read his right wits is to read    thus; therefore perpend, my Princess, and give ear.  OLIVIA. [To FABIAN] Read it you, sirrah.  FABIAN. [Reads] 'By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and the world    shall know it. Though you have put me into darkness and given    your drunken cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my    senses as well as your ladyship. I have your own letter that    induced me to the semblance I put on, with the which I doubt not    but to do myself much right or you much shame. Think of me as you please. I leave my duty a little unthought of, and speak out of my injury.THE MADLY-US'D MALVOLIO'OLIVIA. Did he write this?  CLOWN. Ay, Madam.  DUKE. This savours not much of distraction.  OLIVIA. See him deliver'd, Fabian; bring him hither.Exit FABIAN    My lord, so please you, these things further thought on,    To think me as well a sister as a wife,    One day shall crown th' alliance on't, so please you,    Here at my house, and at my proper cost.  DUKE. Madam, I am most apt t' embrace your offer.    [To VIOLA] Your master quits you; and, for your service done      him,    So much against the mettle of your sex,    So far beneath your soft and tender breeding,    And since you call'd me master for so long,    Here is my hand; you shall from this time be    You master's mistress.  OLIVIA. A sister! You are she.Re-enter FABIAN, with MALVOLIODUKE. Is this the madman?  OLIVIA. Ay, my lord, this same.    How now, Malvolio!  MALVOLIO. Madam, you have done me wrong,    Notorious wrong.  OLIVIA. Have I, Malvolio? No.  MALVOLIO. Lady, you have. Pray you peruse that letter.    You must not now deny it is your hand;    Write from it if you can, in hand or phrase;    Or say 'tis not your seal, not your invention;    You can say none of this. Well, grant it then,    And tell me, in the modesty of honour,    Why you have given me such clear lights of favour,    Bade me come smiling and cross-garter'd to you,    To put on yellow stockings, and to frown    Upon Sir Toby and the lighter people;    And, acting this in an obedient hope,    Why have you suffer'd me to be imprison'd,    Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest,    And made the most notorious geck and gul    That e'er invention play'd on? Tell me why.  OLIVIA. Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing,    Though, I confess, much like the character;    But out of question 'tis Maria's hand.    And now I do bethink me, it was she    First told me thou wast mad; then cam'st in smiling,    And in such forms which here were presuppos'd    Upon thee in the letter. Prithee, be content;    This practice hath most shrewdly pass'd upon thee,    But, when we know the grounds and authors of it,    Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge    Of thine own cause.  FABIAN. Good madam, hear me speak,    And let no quarrel nor no brawl to come    Taint the condition of this present hour,    Which I have wond'red at. In hope it shall not,    Most freely I confess myself and Toby    Set this device against Malvolio here,    Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts    We had conceiv'd against him. Maria writ    The letter, at Sir Toby's great importance,    In recompense whereof he hath married her.    How with a sportful malice it was follow'd    May rather pluck on laughter than revenge,    If that the injuries be justly weigh'd    That have on both sides pass'd.  OLIVIA. Alas, poor fool, how have they baffl'd thee!  CLOWN. Why, 'Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some    have greatness thrown upon them.' I was one, sir, in this    interlude- one Sir Topas, sir; but that's all one. 'By the Lord,    fool, I am not mad!' But do you remember- 'Madam, why laugh you    at such a barren rascal? An you smile not, he's gagg'd'? And thus    the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.  MALVOLIO. I'll be reveng'd on the whole pack of you. Exit  OLIVIA. He hath been most notoriously abus'd.  DUKE. Pursue him, and entreat him to a peace;    He hath not told us of the captain yet.    When that is known, and golden time convents,    A solemn combination shall be made    Of our dear souls. Meantime, sweet sister,    We will not part from hence. Cesario, come;    For so you shall be while you are a man;    But when in other habits you are seen,    Orsino's mistress, and his fancy's queen.Exeunt all but the CLOWNCLOWN singsWhen that I was and a little tiny boy,     With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,     A foolish thing was but a toy,     For the rain it raineth every day.But when I came to man's estate,     With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,     'Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate,     For the rain it raineth every day.But when I came, alas! to wive,     With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,     By swaggering could I never thrive,     For the rain it raineth every day.But when I came unto my beds,     With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,     With toss-pots still had drunken heads,     For the rain it raineth every day.A great while ago the world begun,     With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,     But that's all one, our play is done,     And we'll strive to please you every day.ExitTHE END