in such a gowne. I am not tall enough to become the
function well, nor leane enough to bee thought a good
Studient: but to be said an honest man and a good houskeeper
goes as fairely, as to say, a carefull man, & a great
scholler. The Competitors enter.
Ioue blesse thee M. Parson.
Bonos dies sir Toby: for as the old hermit of Prage
that neuer saw pen and inke, very wittily sayd to a Neece
of King Gorbodacke, that that is, is: so I being M. Parson,
am M. Parson; for what is that, but that? and is, but is?
To him sir Topas.
What hoa, I say, Peace in this prison.
The knaue counterfets well: a good knaue.
Who cals there?
Sir Topas the Curate, who comes to visit Maluolio
Sir Topas, sir Topas, good sir Topas goe to my
Out hyperbolicall fiend, how vexest thou this
man? Talkest thou nothing but of Ladies?
Well said M. Parson.
Sir Topas, neuer was man thus wronged, good
sir Topas do not thinke I am mad: they haue layde mee
heere in hideous darknesse.
Fye, thou dishonest sathan: I call thee by the
most modest termes, for I am one of those gentle ones,
that will vse the diuell himselfe with curtesie: sayst thou
that house is darke?
As hell sir Topas.
Why it hath bay Windowes transparant as baricadoes,
and the cleere stores toward the South north, are
as lustrous as Ebony: and yet complainest thou of obstruction?
I am not mad sir Topas, I say to you this house is
Madman thou errest: I say there is no darknesse
but ignorance, in which thou art more puzel'd then the
aegyptians in their fogge.
I say this house is as darke as Ignorance, thogh
Ignorance were as darke as hell; and I say there was neuer
man thus abus'd, I am no more madde then you are,
make the triall of it in any constant question.
What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning
That the soule of our grandam, might happily
inhabite a bird.
What thinkst thou of his opinion?
I thinke nobly of the soule, and no way aproue
Fare thee well: remaine thou still in darkenesse,
thou shalt hold th' opinion of Pythagoras, ere I will allow
of thy wits, and feare to kill a Woodcocke, lest thou dispossesse
the soule of thy grandam. Fare thee well.
Sir Topas, sir Topas.
My most exquisite sir Topas.
Nay I am for all waters.
Thou mightst haue done this without thy berd
and gowne, he sees thee not.
To him in thine owne voyce, and bring me word
how thou findst him: I would we were well ridde of this
knauery. If he may bee conueniently deliuer'd, I would
he were, for I am now so farre in offence with my Niece,
that I cannot pursue with any safety this sport the vppeshot.
Come by and by to my Chamber.
Hey Robin, iolly Robin, tell me how thy Lady
My Lady is vnkind, perdie.
Alas why is she so?
Foole, I say.
She loues another. Who calles, ha?
Good foole, as euer thou wilt deserue well at
my hand, helpe me to a Candle, and pen, inke, and paper:
as I am a Gentleman, I will liue to bee thankefull to thee
I good Foole.
Alas sir, how fell you besides your fiue witts?
Foole, there was neuer man so notoriouslie abus'd:
I am as well in my wits (foole) as thou art.
But as well: then you are mad indeede, if you be
no better in your wits then a foole.
They haue heere propertied me: keepe mee in
darkenesse, send Ministers to me, Asses, and doe all they
can to face me out of my wits.
Aduise you what you say: the Minister is heere.
Maluolio, Maluolio, thy wittes the heauens restore: endeauour
thy selfe to sleepe, and leaue thy vaine bibble
Maintaine no words with him good fellow.
Who I sir, not I sir. God buy you good sir Topas: Marry
Amen. I will sir, I will.
Foole, foole, foole I say.
Alas sir be patient. What say you sir, I am shent
for speaking to you.
Good foole, helpe me to some light, and some
paper, I tell thee I am as well in my wittes, as any man in
Well-a-day, that you were sir.
By this hand I am: good foole, some inke, paper,
and light: and conuey what I will set downe to my
Lady: it shall aduantage thee more, then euer the bearing
of Letter did.
I will help you too't. But tel me true, are you not
mad indeed, or do you but counterfeit.
Beleeue me I am not, I tell thee true.
Nay, Ile nere beleeue a madman till I see his brains
I will fetch you light, and paper, and inke.
Foole, Ile requite it in the highest degree:
I prethee be gone.
I am gone sir, and anon sir,
Ile be with you againe:
In a trice, like to the old vice,
your neede to sustaine.
Who with dagger of lath, in his rage and his wrath,
cries ah ha, to the diuell:
Like a mad lad, paire thy nayles dad,
Adieu good man diuell.
This is the ayre, that is the glorious Sunne,
This pearle she gaue me, I do feel't, and see't,
And though tis wonder that enwraps me thus,