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OLIVIA. |
Open it, and read it. |
CLOWN. |
Look then to be well edified when the fool delivers the |
madman:--'By the Lord, madam,--' |
OLIVIA. |
How now! art thou mad? |
CLOWN. |
No, madam, I do but read madness: an your ladyship will have |
it as it ought to be, you must allow vox. |
OLIVIA. |
Pr'ythee, read i' thy right wits. |
CLOWN. |
So I do, madonna; but to read his right wits is to read |
thus; therefore perpend, my princess, and give ear. |
OLIVIA. |
[To FABIAN] Read it you, sirrah. |
FABIAN. |
[Reads] 'By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and the world |
shall know it: though you have put me into darkness and given |
your drunken cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my |
senses as well as your ladyship. I have your own letter that |
induced me to the semblance I put on; with the which I doubt not |
but to do myself much right or you much shame. Think of me as you |
please. I leave my duty a little unthought of, and speak out of |
my injury. |
The madly-used Malvolio' |
OLIVIA. |
Did he write this? |
CLOWN. |
Ay, madam. |
DUKE. |
This savours not much of distraction. |
OLIVIA. |
See him delivered, Fabian: bring him hither. |
[Exit FABIAN.] |
My lord, so please you, these things further thought on, |
To think me as well a sister as a wife, |
One day shall crown the alliance on't, so please you, |
Here at my house, and at my proper cost. |
DUKE. |
Madam, I am most apt to embrace your offer.-- |
[To VIOLA] Your master quits you; and, for your service done him, |
So much against the mettle of your sex, |
So far beneath your soft and tender breeding, |
And since you called me master for so long, |
Here is my hand; you shall from this time be |
You master's mistress. |
OLIVIA. |
A sister?--you are she. |
[Re-enter FABIAN with MALVOLIO.] |
DUKE. |
Is this the madman? |
OLIVIA. |
Ay, my lord, this same; |
How now, Malvolio? |
MALVOLIO. |
Madam, you have done me wrong, |
Notorious wrong. |
OLIVIA. |
Have I, Malvolio? no. |
MALVOLIO. |
Lady, you have. Pray you peruse that letter: |
You must not now deny it is your hand, |
Write from it, if you can, in hand or phrase; |
Or say 'tis not your seal, not your invention: |
You can say none of this. Well, grant it then, |
And tell me, in the modesty of honour, |
Why you have given me such clear lights of favour; |
Bade me come smiling and cross-garter'd to you; |
To put on yellow stockings, and to frown |
Upon Sir Toby and the lighter people: |
And, acting this in an obedient hope, |
Why have you suffer'd me to be imprison'd, |
Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest, |
And made the most notorious geck and gull |
That e'er invention played on? tell me why. |
OLIVIA. |