Act 2, Scene V

SCENE V. OLIVIA's garden.

Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN
SIR TOBY BELCH
Come thy ways, Signior Fabian.

FABIAN
Nay, I'll come: if I lose a scruple of this sport,
let me be boiled to death with melancholy.

SIR TOBY BELCH
Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly
rascally sheep-biter come by some notable shame?

FABIAN
I would exult, man: you know, he brought me out o'
favour with my lady about a bear-baiting here.

SIR TOBY BELCH
To anger him we'll have the bear again; and we will
fool him black and blue: shall we not, Sir Andrew?

SIR ANDREW
An we do not, it is pity of our lives.

SIR TOBY BELCH
Here comes the little villain.

Enter MARIA

How now, my metal of India!

MARIA
Get ye all three into the box-tree: Malvolio's
coming down this walk: he has been yonder i' the
sun practising behavior to his own shadow this half
hour: observe him, for the love of mockery; for I
know this letter will make a contemplative idiot of
him. Close, in the name of jesting! Lie thou there,

Throws down a letter

for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling.

Exit

Enter MALVOLIO

MALVOLIO
'Tis but fortune; all is fortune. Maria once told
me she did affect me: and I have heard herself come
thus near, that, should she fancy, it should be one
of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a more
exalted respect than any one else that follows her.
What should I think on't?

SIR TOBY BELCH
Here's an overweening rogue!

FABIAN
O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock
of him: how he jets under his advanced plumes!

SIR ANDREW
'Slight, I could so beat the rogue!

SIR TOBY BELCH
Peace, I say.

MALVOLIO
To be Count Malvolio!

SIR TOBY BELCH
Ah, rogue!

SIR ANDREW
Pistol him, pistol him.

SIR TOBY BELCH
Peace, peace!

MALVOLIO
There is example for't; the lady of the Strachy
married the yeoman of the wardrobe.

SIR ANDREW
Fie on him, Jezebel!

FABIAN
O, peace! now he's deeply in: look how
imagination blows him.

MALVOLIO
Having been three months married to her, sitting in
my state,--

SIR TOBY BELCH
O, for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye!

MALVOLIO
Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet
gown; having come from a day-bed, where I have left
Olivia sleeping,--

SIR TOBY BELCH
Fire and brimstone!

FABIAN
O, peace, peace!

MALVOLIO
And then to have the humour of state; and after a
demure travel of regard, telling them I know my