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Twelfth Night; Or, What You Will


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Go to, y'are a dry fool; I'll no more of you. Besides, you grow dishonest.

        CLOWN. Two faults, madonna, that drink and good counsel will amend;

       for give the dry fool drink, then is 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. Anything

      that's mended is but patch'd; virtue that transgresses is but

      patch'd with sin, and sin that amends is but patch'd 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.

        OLIVIA. Sir, I bade them take away you.

        CLOWN. 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.

        OLIVIA. Can you do it?

        CLOWN. Dexteriously, good madonna.

        OLIVIA. Make your proof.

        CLOWN. I must catechize you for it, madonna.

          Good my mouse of virtue, answer me.

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

        CLOWN. Good madonna, why mourn'st thou?

        OLIVIA. Good fool, for my brother's death.

        CLOWN. I think his soul is in hell, madonna.

        OLIVIA. I know his soul is in heaven, fool.

        CLOWN. 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 better

      fool.

        CLOWN. 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 twopence that you are no fool.

        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 already; unless you laugh and minister occasion to him,

          he is gagg'd. I protest I take these wise men that crow so at

          these set kind of fools no better than the fools' zanies.

        OLIVIA. O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste with a

          distemper'd 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 allow'd fool, though he

          do nothing but rail; nor no railing in known discreet man, though

          he do nothing but reprove.

        CLOWN. Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for thou speak'st well

          of fools!

Re-enter MARIA

      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 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. [Exit MALVOLIO] Now you see, sir, how your fooling grows old,

          and people dislike it.

        CLOWN. Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy eldest son should

          be a fool; whose skull Jove cram with brains! For- here he comes one of thy kin has a most weak pia mater.

Enter SIR TOBY

      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. [Hiccups] A plague o' these

          pickle-herring! How now, sot!

        CLOWN. Good Sir Toby!

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

        SIR TOBY. Lechery! I defy lechery. There's one 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. Exit

        OLIVIA. What's a drunken man like, fool?

        CLOWN. Like a drown'd man, a fool, and a madman: 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 coz;

          for he's in the third degree of drink, he's drown'd; go look  after him.

        CLOWN. 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 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 door

          like