Act I, Scene 5

OLIVIA’S house.

[Enter MARIA and Clown]

• Maria. Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will
  not open my lips so wide as a bristle may enter in
  way of thy excuse: my lady will hang thee for thy absence.

• Feste. Let her hang me: he that is well hanged in this
  world needs to fear no colours. 300

• Maria. Make that good.

• Feste. He shall see none to fear.

• Maria. A good lenten answer: I can tell thee where that
  saying was born, of 'I fear no colours.'

• Feste. Where, good Mistress Mary? 305

• Maria. In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in your foolery.

• Feste. Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those
  that are fools, let them use their talents.

• Maria. Yet you will be hanged for being so long absent; or,
  to be turned away, is not that as good as a hanging to you? 310

• Feste. Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage; and,
  for turning away, let summer bear it out.

• Maria. You are resolute, then?

• Feste. Not so, neither; but I am resolved on two points.

• Maria. That if one break, the other will hold; or, if both 315
  break, your gaskins fall.

• Feste. Apt, in good faith; very apt. Well, go thy way; if
  Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a
  piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria.

• Maria. Peace, you rogue, no more o' that. Here comes my 320
  lady: make your excuse wisely, you were best.

[Exit]

• Feste. Wit, an't be thy will, put me into good fooling!
  Those wits, that think they have thee, do very oft
  prove fools; and I, that am sure I lack thee, may 325
  pass for a wise man: for what says Quinapalus?
  'Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit.'
  [Enter OLIVIA with MALVOLIO]
  God bless thee, lady!

• Olivia. Take the fool away. 330

• Feste. Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady.

• Olivia. Go to, you're a dry fool; I'll no more of you:
  besides, you grow dishonest.

• Feste. Two faults, madonna, that drink and good counsel
  will amend: for give the dry fool drink, then is 335
  the fool not dry: bid the dishonest man mend
  himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if
  he cannot, let the botcher mend him. Any thing
  that's mended is but patched: virtue that
  transgresses is but patched with sin; and sin that 340
  amends is but patched with virtue. If that this
  simple syllogism will serve, so; if it will not,
  what remedy? As there is no true cuckold but
  calamity, so beauty's a flower. The lady bade take
  away the fool; therefore, I say again, take her away. 345

• Olivia. Sir, I bade them take away you.

• Feste. Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, cucullus non
  facit monachum; that's as much to say as I wear not
  motley in my brain. Good madonna, give me leave to
  prove you a fool. 350

• Olivia. Can you do it?

• Feste. Dexterously, good madonna.

• Olivia. Make your proof.

• Feste. I must catechise you for it, madonna: good my mouse
  of virtue, answer me. 355

• Olivia. Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I'll bide your proof.

• Feste. Good madonna, why mournest thou?

• Olivia. Good fool, for my brother's death.

• Feste. I think his soul is in hell, madonna.

• Olivia. I know his soul is in heaven, fool. 360

• Feste. The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your brother's
  soul being in heaven. Take away the fool, gentlemen.

• Olivia. What think you of this fool, Malvolio? doth he not mend?

• Malvolio. Yes, and shall do till the pangs of death shake him:
  infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever make the 365
  better fool.

• Feste. God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the
  better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will be
  sworn that I am no fox; but he will not pass his
  word for two pence that you are no fool. 370

• Olivia. How say you to that, Malvolio?

• Malvolio. I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such a
  barren rascal: I saw him put down the other day
  with an ordinary fool that has no more brain
  than a stone. Look you now, he's out of his guard 375
  already; unless you laugh and minister occasion to
  him, he is gagged. I protest, I take these wise men,
  that crow so at these set kind of fools, no better
  than the fools' zanies.

• Olivia. Oh, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste 380
  with a distempered appetite. To be generous,
  guiltless and of free disposition, is to take those
  things for bird-bolts that you deem cannon-bullets:
  there is no slander in an allowed fool, though he do
  nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known discreet 385
  man, though he do nothing but reprove.

• Feste. Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for thou
  speakest well of fools!

[Re-enter MARIA]

• Maria. Madam, there is at the gate a young gentleman much 390
  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. 395

• Olivia. Fetch him off, I pray you; he speaks nothing but
  madman: fie on him!
  [Exit MARIA]
  Go you, Malvolio: if it be a suit from the count, I
  am sick, or not at home; what you will, to dismiss it. 400
  [Exit MALVOLIO]
  Now you see, sir, how your fooling grows old, and
  people dislike it.

• Feste. Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy eldest
  son should be a fool; whose skull Jove cram with 405
  brains! for,—here he comes,—one of thy kin has a
  most weak pia mater.

[Enter SIR TOBY BELCH]

• Olivia. By mine honour, half drunk. What is he at the gate, cousin?

• Sir Toby Belch. A gentleman. 410

• Olivia. A gentleman! what gentleman?

• Sir Toby Belch. 'Tis a gentle man here—a plague o' these
  pickle-herring! How now, sot!

• Feste. Good Sir Toby!

• Olivia. Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by this lethargy? 415

• Sir Toby Belch. Lechery! I defy lechery. There's one at the gate.

• Olivia. Ay, marry, what is he?

• Sir Toby Belch. Let him be the devil, an he will, I care not: give
  me faith, say I. Well, it's all one.

[Exit]

• Olivia. What's a drunken man like, fool?

• Feste. Like a drowned man, a fool and a mad man: one
  draught above heat makes him a fool; the second mads
  him; and a third drowns him.

• Olivia. Go thou and seek the crowner, and let him sit o' my 425
  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.

[Exit]

[Re-enter MALVOLIO]

• Malvolio. Madam, yond young fellow swears he will speak with
  you. I told him you were sick; he takes on him to
  understand so much, and therefore comes to speak
  with you. I told him you were asleep; he seems to 435
  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. Has been told so; and he says, he'll stand at your 440
  door like a sheriff's post, and be the supporter to
  a bench, but he'll speak with you.

• Olivia. What kind o' man is he?

• Malvolio. Why, of mankind.

• Olivia. What manner of man? 445

• Malvolio. Of very ill manner; he'll speak with you, will you or no.

• Olivia. Of what personage 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
  cooling when 'tis almost an apple: 'tis with him 450
  in standing water, between boy and man. He is very
  well-favoured and he speaks very shrewishly; 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. 455

[Exit]

[Re-enter MARIA]

• Olivia. Give me my veil: come, throw it o'er my face.
  We'll once more hear Orsino's embassy.

[Enter VIOLA, and Attendants]

• 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, 465
  for I never saw her: I would be loath to cast away
  my speech, for besides that it is excellently well
  penned, I have taken great pains to con it. Good
  beauties, let me sustain no scorn; I am very
  comptible, even to the least sinister usage. 470

• Olivia. Whence came you, sir?

• Viola. I can say little more than I have studied, and that
  question's out of my part. Good gentle one, give me
  modest assurance if you be the lady of the house,
  that I may proceed in my speech. 475

• Olivia. Are you a comedian?

• Viola. No, my profound heart: and yet, by the very fangs
  of malice I swear, I am not that I play. Are you
  the lady of the house?

• Olivia. If I do not usurp myself, I am. 480

• Viola. Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp
  yourself; for what is yours to bestow is not yours
  to reserve. But this is from my commission: I will
  on with my speech in your praise, and then show you
  the heart of my message. 485

• Olivia. Come to what is important in't: I forgive 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. I heard you were saucy at my gates,
  and allowed your approach rather to wonder at you 490
  than to hear you. If you be not mad, be gone; if
  you have reason, be brief: 'tis not that time of
  moon with me to make one in so skipping a dialogue.

• Maria. Will you hoist sail, sir? here lies your way.

• Viola. No, good swabber; I am to hull here a little 495
  longer. Some mollification for your giant, 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.

• Viola. It alone concerns your ear. I bring no overture of 500
  war, no taxation of homage: I hold the olive in my
  hand; my words are as fun of peace as matter.

• Olivia. Yet you began rudely. What are you? what would you?

• Viola. The rudeness that hath appeared in me have I
  learned from my entertainment. What I am, and what I 505
  would, are as secret as maidenhead; to your ears,
  divinity, to any other's, profanation.

• Olivia. Give us the place alone: we will hear this divinity.
  [Exeunt MARIA and Attendants]
  Now, sir, what is your text? 510

• Viola. Most sweet lady,—

• Olivia. A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said of it.
  Where lies your text?

• Viola. In Orsino's bosom.

• Olivia. In his bosom! In what chapter of his bosom? 515

• Viola. To answer by the method, 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 your text: but 520
  we will draw the curtain and show you the picture.
  Look you, sir, such a one I was this present: is't
  not well done?

[Unveiling]

• Viola. Excellently done, if God did all. 525

• Olivia. 'Tis in grain, sir; 'twill endure wind and weather.

• Viola. 'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white
  Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on:
  Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive,
  If you will lead these graces to the grave 530
  And leave the world no copy.

• Olivia. O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will give
  out divers schedules of my beauty: it shall be
  inventoried, and every particle and utensil
  labelled to my will: as, item, two lips, 535
  indifferent red; item, two grey eyes, with lids to
  them; item, one neck, one chin, and so forth. Were
  you sent hither to praise me?

• Viola. I see you what you are, you are too proud;
  But, if you were the devil, you are fair. 540
  My lord and master loves you: O, such love
  Could be but recompensed, though you were crown'd
  The nonpareil of beauty!

• Olivia. How does he love me?

• Viola. With adorations, fertile tears, 545
  With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.

• Olivia. Your lord does know my mind; I cannot love him:
  Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble,
  Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth;
  In voices well divulged, free, learn'd and valiant; 550
  And in dimension and the shape of nature
  A gracious 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,
  With such a suffering, such a deadly life, 555
  In your denial I would find no sense;
  I would not understand it.

• Olivia. Why, what would you?

• Viola. Make me a willow cabin at your gate,
  And call upon my soul within the house; 560
  Write loyal cantons of contemned love
  And sing them loud even in the dead of night;
  Halloo your name to the reverberate hills
  And make the babbling gossip of the air
  Cry out 'Olivia!' O, You should not rest 565
  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: 570
  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: 575
  I thank you for your pains: spend this for me.

• Viola. I am no fee'd post, lady; keep your purse:
  My master, not myself, lacks recompense.
  Love make his heart of flint that you shall love;
  And let your fervor, like my master's, be 580
  Placed in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty.

[Exit]

• Olivia. 'What is your parentage?'
  'Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:
  I am a gentleman.' I'll be sworn thou art; 585
  Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions and spirit,
  Do give thee five-fold blazon: not too fast:
  soft, soft!
  Unless the master were the man. How now!
  Even so quickly may one catch the plague? 590
  Methinks I feel this youth's perfections
  With an invisible and subtle stealth
  To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.
  What ho, Malvolio!

[Re-enter MALVOLIO]

• Malvolio. Here, madam, at your service.

• Olivia. Run after that same peevish messenger,
  The county's man: he left this ring behind him,
  Would I or not: tell him I'll none of it.
  Desire him not to flatter with his lord, 600
  Nor hold him up with hopes; I am not for him:
  If that the youth will come this way to-morrow,
  I'll give him reasons for't: hie thee, Malvolio.

• Malvolio. Madam, I will.

[Exit]

• Olivia. I do I know not what, and fear to find
  Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind.
  Fate, show thy force: ourselves we do not owe;
  What is decreed must be, and be this so.

[Exit]