Olivia's house.

[Enter Maria and Feste.]

MARIA:

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.

FESTE:

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.(5)
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 Toby and Maria.]

SIR TOBY:

Jove bless thee, Master Parson.(10)

FESTE:

Bonos dies, Sir Toby: for, as the old hermit of Prague,
that never saw pen and ink, very wittily said to a 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’?(15)

SIR TOBY:

To him, Sir Topas.

FESTE:

What, ho, I say! Peace in this prison!

SIR TOBY:

The knave counterfeits well; a good knave.

MALVOLIO:

[from within] Who calls there?

FESTE:

Sir Topas the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio the(20)
lunatic.

MALVOLIO:

Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to my lady.

FESTE:

Out, hyperbolical fiend! how vexest thou this man!
talkest thou nothing but of ladies?

SIR TOBY:

Well said, Master Parson.(25)

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.

FESTE:

Fie, thou dishonest Satan! I call thee by the most modest
terms; for I am one of those gentle ones that will use(30)
the devil himself with courtesy. Sayest thou that house
is dark?

MALVOLIO:

As hell, Sir Topas.

FESTE:

Why, it hath bay windows transparent as
barricadoes, and the clearstores toward the south north(35)
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.

FESTE:

Madman, thou errest: I say there is no darkness(40)
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 abused. I am no more mad than you are: make(45)
the trial of it in any constant question.

FESTE:

What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild
fowl?

MALVOLIO:

That the soul of our grandam might haply
inhabit a bird.(50)

FESTE:

What thinkest thou of his opinion?

MALVOLIO:

I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his
opinion.

FESTE:

Fare thee well. Remain thou still in darkness: thou
shalt hold the opinion of Pythagoras ere I will allow of(55)
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!(60)

FESTE:

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 findest him: I would we were well rid of this(65)
knavery. If he may be conveniently delivered, 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 Maria and Sir Toby.]

FESTE:

[Sings.] ‘Hey, Robin, jolly Robin,(70)
Tell me how thy lady does.’

MALVOLIO:

Fool!

FESTE:

‘My lady is unkind, perdy.’

MALVOLIO:

Fool!(75)

FESTE:

‘Alas, why is she so?’

MALVOLIO:

Fool, I say!

FESTE:

‘She loves another.’
Who calls, ha?

MALVOLIO:

Good fool, as ever thou wilt deserve well at my(80)
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.

FESTE:

Master Malvolio?

MALVOLIO:

Ay, good fool.

FESTE:

Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits?(85)

MALVOLIO:

Fool, there was never man so notoriously abused: I
am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art.

FESTE:

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,(90)
send ministers to me, asses, and do all they can to face
me out of my wits.

FESTE:

Advise you what you say; the minister is here.
Malvolio, Malvolio, thy wits the heavens restore! endeavour
thyself to sleep, and leave thy vain bibble babble.(95)

MALVOLIO:

Sir Topas!

FESTE:

Maintain no words with him, good fellow. Who, I,
sir? not I, sir. God be wi' you, good Sir Topas. Marry, amen.
I will, sir, I will.

MALVOLIO:

Fool, fool, fool, I say!(100)

FESTE:

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.

FESTE:

Well-a-day that you were, sir!(105)

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.

FESTE:

I will help you to't. But tell me true, are you not mad
indeed? or do you but countefeit?(110)

MALVOLIO:

Believe me, I am not; I tell thee true.

FESTE:

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.(115)

FESTE:

[Sings.] 'I am gone, sir,
And anon, sir,
I'll be with you again,
In a trice,(120)
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,(125)
‘Pare thy nails, dad.
Adieu, goodman devil.’

[Exeunt.]