Ol. Why what's the matter, does he raue? Mar. No Madam, he does nothing but smile: your Ladyship were best to haue some guard about you, if hee come, for sure the man is tainted in's wits
Ol. Go call him hither. Enter Maluolio.
I am as madde as hee, If sad and merry madnesse equall bee. How now Maluolio? Mal. Sweet Lady, ho, ho
Ol. Smil'st thou? I sent for thee vpon a sad occasion
Mal. Sad Lady, I could be sad: This does make some obstruction in the blood: This crosse-gartering, but what of that? If it please the eye of one, it is with me as the very true Sonnet is: Please one, and please all
Mal. Why how doest thou man? What is the matter with thee? Mal. Not blacke in my minde, though yellow in my legges: It did come to his hands, and Commaunds shall be executed. I thinke we doe know the sweet Romane hand
Ol. Wilt thou go to bed Maluolio? Mal. To bed? I sweet heart, and Ile come to thee
Ol. God comfort thee: Why dost thou smile so, and kisse thy hand so oft? Mar. How do you Maluolio? Maluo. At your request: Yes Nightingales answere Dawes
Mar. Why appeare you with this ridiculous boldnesse before my Lady
Mal. Be not afraid of greatnesse: 'twas well writ
Ol. What meanst thou by that Maluolio? Mal. Some are borne great
Ol. Ha? Mal. Some atcheeue greatnesse
Ol. What sayst thou? Mal. And some haue greatnesse thrust vpon them
Ol. Heauen restore thee
Mal. Remember who commended thy yellow stockings
Ol. Thy yellow stockings? Mal. And wish'd to see thee crosse garter'd
Ol. Crosse garter'd? Mal. Go too, thou art made, if thou desir'st to be so
Ol. Am I made? Mal. If not, let me see thee a seruant still
Ol. Why this is verie Midsommer madnesse. Enter Seruant.
Ser. Madame, the young Gentleman of the Count Orsino's is return'd, I could hardly entreate him backe: he attends your Ladyships pleasure
Ol. Ile come to him. Good Maria, let this fellow be look'd too. Where's my Cosine Toby, let some of my people haue a speciall care of him, I would not haue him miscarrie for the halfe of my Dowry.
Exit
Mal. Oh ho, do you come neere me now: no worse man then sir Toby to looke to me. This concurres directly with the Letter, she sends him on purpose, that I may appeare stubborne to him: for she incites me to that in the Letter. Cast thy humble slough sayes she: be opposite with a Kinsman, surly with seruants, let thy tongue langer with arguments of state, put thy selfe into the tricke of singularity: and consequently setts downe the manner how: as a sad face, a reuerend carriage, a slow tongue, in the habite of some Sir of note, and so foorth. I haue lymde her, but it is Ioues doing, and Ioue make me thankefull. And when she went away now, let this Fellow be look'd too: Fellow? not Maluolio, nor after my degree, but Fellow. Why euery thing adheres togither, that no dramme of a scruple, no scruple of a scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous or vnsafe circumstance: What can be saide? Nothing that can be, can come betweene me, and the full prospect of my hopes. Well Ioue, not I, is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked. Enter Toby, Fabian, and Maria.
To. Which way is hee in the name of sanctity. If all the diuels of hell be drawne in little, and Legion himselfe possest him, yet Ile speake to him