Twelfth Night (6 page)

MARIA
    Madam, there is at the gate a young gentleman

much desires to speak with you.

OLIVIA
    From the Count Orsino, is it?

MARIA
    I know not, madam. ’Tis a fair young man, and well

attended.

OLIVIA
    Who of my people hold him in delay?

MARIA
    Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman.

OLIVIA
    Fetch him off, I pray you. He speaks nothing but

madman.
Fie
⁹⁸
on him!—

Go you, Malvolio; if it be a suit from the count, I am sick, or

not at home.
What you will
¹⁰⁰
, to dismiss it.—

Now you see, sir, how your fooling grows
old
¹⁰¹
, and people

dislike it.

FESTE
    Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy eldest

son
should be
a fool, whose skull
Jove
¹⁰⁴
cram with brains,

for — here he comes —

one of thy kin has a most weak
pia mater.
¹⁰⁶

OLIVIA
    By mine honour, half drunk.—

What is he at the gate, cousin?

SIR TOBY
    A gentleman.

OLIVIA
    A gentleman? What gentleman?

SIR TOBY
    ’Tis a gentleman here—

a plague o’these pickle herring!— How now,
sot?
¹¹²

FESTE
    Good Sir Toby!

OLIVIA
    Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by this

lethargy?
¹¹⁵

SIR TOBY
    Lechery? I defy lechery. There’s
one
¹¹⁶
at the gate.

OLIVIA
    Ay, marry, what is he?

SIR TOBY
    Let him be the devil, an he will, I care not. Give me

faith
, say I. Well,
it’s all one.
¹¹⁹

OLIVIA
    What’s a drunken man like, fool?

FESTE
    Like a drowned man, a fool and a madman:
one
¹²¹

draught above heat makes him a fool, the second mads him,

and a third
drowns
¹²³
him.

OLIVIA
    Go thou and seek the
crowner
, and let him
sit o’my
¹²⁴

coz, for he’s in the third degree of drink: he’s drowned. Go

look after him.

FESTE
    He is but mad yet, madonna, and the fool shall look

to the madman.

MALVOLIO
    Madam,
yond
¹²⁹
young fellow swears he will speak

with you. I told him you were sick, he
takes on him to
¹³⁰

understand so much, and therefore comes to speak with

you. I told him you were asleep — he seems to have a

foreknowledge of that too — and therefore comes to speak

with you. What is to be said to him, lady? He’s fortified

against any denial.

OLIVIA
    Tell him he shall not speak with me.

MALVOLIO
    He’s been told so, and he says he’ll stand at your

door like a
sheriff’s post
, and be the
supporter to a bench
¹³⁸
, but

he’ll speak with you.

OLIVIA
    What kind o’man is he?

MALVOLIO
    Why,
of mankind.
¹⁴¹

OLIVIA
    What manner of man?

MALVOLIO
    Of very
ill manner.
He’ll speak with you,
will you
¹⁴³

or no.

OLIVIA
    Of what
personage
¹⁴⁵
and years is he?

MALVOLIO
    Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough

for a boy. As a
squash
is before ’tis a peascod, or a
codling
¹⁴⁷

when ’tis almost an apple: ’tis with him in
standing water
¹⁴⁸
,

between boy and man. He is very
well-favoured
¹⁴⁹
and he

speaks very
shrewishly.
¹⁵⁰
One would think his mother’s milk

were scarce out of him.

OLIVIA
    Let him approach. Call in my gentlewoman.

MALVOLIO
    Gentlewoman, my lady calls.

OLIVIA
    Give me my veil. Come, throw it o’er my face. We’ll once more hear Orsino’s
embassy.
¹⁵⁵

VIOLA
    The honourable lady of the house, which is she?

OLIVIA
    Speak to me, I shall answer for her. Your will?

VIOLA
    Most radiant, exquisite and unmatchable beauty —

I pray you tell me if this be the lady of the house, for I never

saw her. I would be loath to
cast away
¹⁶⁰
my speech, for besides

that it is excellently well
penned
¹⁶¹
, I have taken great pains to

con
it. Good beauties, let me
sustain
¹⁶²
no scorn; I am very

comptible
, even to the least
sinister
¹⁶³
usage.

OLIVIA
    Whence came you, sir?

VIOLA
    I can say little more than I have
studied
¹⁶⁵
, and that

question’s
out of my part.
Good gentle one, give me
modest
¹⁶⁶

assurance, if you be the lady of the house, that I may

proceed in my speech.

OLIVIA
    Are you a
comedian?
¹⁶⁹

VIOLA
    No,
my profound heart.
¹⁷⁰
And yet, by the very fangs

of malice, I swear I am not
that I play.
¹⁷¹
Are you the lady of the

house?

OLIVIA
    If I do not
usurp
¹⁷³
myself, I am.

VIOLA
    Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp yourself,

for
what is yours to bestow is not yours to reserve.
¹⁷⁵
But this is

from
my commissi
on.
¹⁷⁶
I will on with my speech in your

praise, and then show you the heart of my message.

OLIVIA
    Come to what is important in’t. I
forgive
¹⁷⁸
you the

praise.

VIOLA
    Alas, I took great pains to study it, and ’tis poetical.

OLIVIA
    It is the more like to be
feigned.
I pray you keep
it in.
¹⁸¹

I heard you were
saucy
¹⁸²
at my gates, and allowed your

approach rather to
wonder
¹⁸³
at you than to hear you. If you be

not mad, be gone.
If you have reason, be brief.
’Tis not that
¹⁸⁴

time of moon with me to
make one
in so
skipping
¹⁸⁵
a dialogue.

MARIA
    Will you
hoist sail
¹⁸⁶
, sir? Here lies your way.

VIOLA
    No, good
swabber
, I am to
hull
¹⁸⁷
here a little longer.

Some mollification
for your
giant
¹⁸⁸
, sweet lady; tell me your

mind, I am a messenger.

OLIVIA
    Sure, you have some hideous matter to deliver,

when the
courtesy
of it is so
fearful.
Speak your office.
¹⁹¹

VIOLA
    It alone concerns your ear. I bring no
overture
¹⁹²
of

war, no
taxation of homage
; I hold the
olive
¹⁹³
in my hand. My

words are as full of peace as
matter.
¹⁹⁴

OLIVIA
    Yet you began
rudely.
¹⁹⁵
What are you? What would

you?

VIOLA
    The rudeness that hath appeared in me have I

learned from my
entertainment.
¹⁹⁸
What I am, and what I

would, are as secret as
maidenhead
: to your ears,
divinity
¹⁹⁹
: to

any other’s,
profanation.
²⁰⁰

OLIVIA
    Give us the place alone. We will hear this divinity.

Now, sir, what is your
text?
²⁰²

VIOLA
    Most sweet lady—

OLIVIA
    A
comfortable
²⁰⁴
doctrine, and much may be said of it.

Where lies your text?

VIOLA
    In Orsino’s
bosom.
²⁰⁶

OLIVIA
    In his bosom? In what
chapter
²⁰⁷
of his bosom?

VIOLA
    To
answer by the method
²⁰⁸
, in the first of his heart.

OLIVIA
    O, I have read it: it is heresy. Have you no more to

say?

VIOLA
    Good madam, let me see your face.

OLIVIA
    Have you any commission from your lord to

negotiate with my face? You are now
out of
²¹³
your text. But we will draw the
curtain
²¹⁴
and show you the picture.

Unveils

Look you, sir,
such a one I was this present.
²¹⁵
Is’t not well

done?

VIOLA
    Excellently done,
if God did all.
²¹⁷

OLIVIA
    ’Tis
in grain
²¹⁸
, sir, ’twill endure wind and weather.

VIOLA
    ’Tis beauty
truly blent
, whose
red and white
²¹⁹

Nature’s own sweet and
cunning
²²⁰
hand laid on.

Lady, you are the cruell’st
she
²²¹
alive,

If you will lead these
graces
²²²
to the grave

And leave the world no
copy.
²²³

OLIVIA
    O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted. I will give out

divers schedules
of my beauty. It shall be
inventoried
²²⁵
, and

every particle and
utensil
²²⁶
labelled to my will: as,
item
, two

lips,
indifferent
²²⁷
red:
item
, two grey eyes, with lids to them:

item
, one neck, one chin and so forth. Were you sent hither

to
praise
²²⁹
me?

VIOLA
    I see you what you are, you are too proud.

But
if
²³¹
you were the devil, you are fair.

My lord and master loves you. O, such love

Could be
but recompensed, though
²³³
you were crowned

The
nonpareil
²³⁴
of beauty!

OLIVIA
    How does he love me?

VIOLA
    With adorations,
fertile
²³⁶
tears,

With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.

OLIVIA
    Your lord does know my mind: I cannot love him.

Yet I
suppose
²³⁹
him virtuous, know him noble,

Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth;

In voices well divulged
,
free
²⁴¹
, learned and valiant,

And in
dimension and the shape of nature
²⁴²

A
gracious
²⁴³
person; but yet I cannot love him.

He might have took his answer long ago.

VIOLA
    If I did love you in my master’s
flame
²⁴⁵
,

With such a suff’ring, such a
deadly
²⁴⁶
life,

In your denial I would find no sense,

I would not understand it.

OLIVIA
    Why, what would you?

VIOLA
    Make me a
willow cabin
²⁵⁰
at your gate,

And call upon
my soul
²⁵¹
within the house,

Write loyal
cantons
of
contemnèd
²⁵²
love

And sing them loud even in the dead of night,

Hallow
your name to the
reverberate
²⁵⁴
hills

And make the
babbling
gossip
²⁵⁵
of the air

Cry out ‘Olivia!’ O, you should not rest

Between the elements of air and earth,

But you should pity me!

OLIVIA
    You might do much. What is your parentage?

VIOLA
    Above my
fortunes
, yet my
state
is
well
²⁶⁰
:

I am a gentleman.

OLIVIA
    Get you to your lord.

I cannot love him. Let him send no more,

Unless, perchance, you come to me again,

To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well:

I thank you for your pains. Spend this for me.