SCENE III. OLIVIA's house.
(DN: Feferi, the couch. Sollux, Terezi, the plants.)
Enter SIR TOBY BELCH and SIR ANDREW
(DN: From stage right. John, come out. When you're about a third of the way on, start your line. After hearing your character's name, Dirk, come on out.)
approach, sir andrew: not to be abed after
midnight is to be up betimes; and 'diluculo
surgere,' thou know'st,--
Nay, my troth, I know not: but I know, to be up
late is to be up late.
a false conclusion: i hate it as an unfilled can.
to be up after midnight and to go to bed then, is
early: so that to go to bed after midnight is to go
to bed betimes. does not our life consist of the
four elements?
Faith, so they say; but I think it rather consists
of eating and drinking.
thou'rt a scholar; let us therefore eat and drink.
marian, i say! a stoup of wine!
(DN: Dave, get in from stage left.)
Here comes the fool, i' faith.
how now my hearts! did you never see the picture
of we three???
(DN: Dave, at the end of your line, throw your arm around John and Dirk. John, when you start your line, try to dislodge him.)
welcome, ass. now let's have a catch.
By my troth, the fool has an excellent breast. I
had rather than forty shillings I had such a leg,
and so sweet a breath to sing, as the fool has. In
sooth, thou wast in very gracious fooling last
night, when thou spokest of Pigrogromitus, of the
Vapians passing the equinoctial of Queubus: 'twas
very good, i' faith. I sent thee sixpence for thy
leman: hadst it?
i did impeticos thy gratillity for malvolios nose
is no whipstock: my lady has a white hand and the
myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses
Excellent! why, this is the best fooling, when all
is done. Now, a song.
Come on; there is sixpence for you: let's have a song.
There's a testril of me too: if one knight give a--
(DN: Dave, the way you're cutting him off is fine. You can be a bit more physical.)
would you have a love-song or a song of good life?
A love song, a love song.
Ay, ay: I care not for good life.
[Sings]
o mistress mine where are you roaming
o stay and hear; your true loves coming
that can sing both high and low
trip no further pretty sweeting;
journeys end in lovers meeting
every wise mans son doth know
Excellent good, i' faith.
[Sings]
what is love? tis not hereafter;
present mirth hath present laughter;
whats to come is still unsure:
in delay there lies no plenty;
then come kiss me sweet and twenty
youths a stuff will not endure
A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight.
Very sweet and contagious, i' faith.
to hear by the nose, it is dulcet in contagion.
but shall we make the welkin dance indeed? shall we
rouse the night-owl in a catch that will draw three
souls out of one weaver? shall we do that?
An you love me, let's do't: I am dog at a catch.
By'r lady sir and some dogs will catch well
most certain. let our catch be, 'thou knave.'
'hold thy peace thou knave,' knight? i shall be
constrained in't to call thee knave, knight
'Tis not the first time I have constrained one to
call me knave. Begin, fool: it begins 'Hold thy peace.'
i shall never begin if i hold my peace
Good, i' faith. Come, begin.
(DN: MORE ON THIS LATER.)
(DN: Rose, you're coming in from stage right. Get up in their faces!)
What a caterwauling do you keep here! If my lady
have not called up her steward Malvolio and bid him
turn you out of doors, never trust me.
my lady's a cataian, we are politicians, malvolio's
a peg-a-ramsey, and 'three merry men be we.' am not
i consanguineous? am i not of her blood?
tillyvally. lady!
[Sings} 'there dwelt a man in babylon, lady, lady!'
beshrew me the knight's in admirable fooling
Ay, he does well enough if he be disposed, and so do
I too: he does it with a better grace, but I do it
more natural.
[Sings] 'o, the twelfth day of december,'--
For the love o' God, peace!
(DN: Eridan, march in there from stage right. Feel free to yawn, but you're very angry! John, cross to meet the challenge. Dirk, cower near Rose.)
my masters are you mad? or wwhat are you? havve ye
no wwit manners nor honesty but to gabble like
tinkers at this time of night? do ye make an
alehouse of my ladys house that ye squeak out your
coziers' catches wwithout any mitigation or remorse
of vvoice? is there no respect of place persons nor
time in you?
we did keep time, sir, in our catches. sneck up!
sir toby i must be round wwith you. my lady bade me
tell you that though she harbors you as her
kinsman shes nothing allied to your disorders. if
you can separate yourself and your misdemeanors you
are wwelcome to the house; if not an it wwould please
you to take leavve of her she is vvery wwilling to bid
you farewwell
'farewell, dear heart, since i must needs be gone.'
'his eyes do show his days are almost done'
this is much credit to you
'shall i bid him go, and spare not?'
'o no no no no you dare not'
out o' tune, sir: ye lie. art any more than a
steward? dost thou think, because thou art
virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?
yes by saint anne and ginger shall be hot i' the
mouth too
thou'rt i' the right. go, sir, rub your chain with
crumbs. a stoup of wine, maria!
(DN: Rose, shake your head sadly.)
mistress mary if you prized my ladys favvor at any
thing more than contempt you wwould not givve means
for this uncivvil rule: she shall knoww of it by this hand
(DN: Stage right. When you say "this hand," point up in the air and walk off that way. Rose, this next line waits until Eridan is all the way off. Maximum contempt!)
'Twere as good a deed as to drink when a man's
a-hungry, to challenge him the field, and then to
break promise with him and make a fool of him.
Do't, knight: I'll write thee a challenge: or I'll
deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth.
Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for tonight: since the
youth of the count's was today with thy lady, she is
much out of quiet. For Monsieur Malvolio, let me
alone with him: if I do not gull him into a
nayword, and make him a common recreation, do not
think I have wit enough to lie straight in my bed:
I know I can do it.
possess us, possess us; tell us something of him.
Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of puritan.
O, if I thought that I'ld beat him like a dog!
what, for being a puritan? thy exquisite reason,
dear knight?
I have no exquisite reason for't, but I have reason
good enough.
The devil a puritan that he is, or any thing
constantly, but a time-pleaser; an affectioned ass,
that cons state without book and utters it by great
swarths: the best persuaded of himself, so
crammed, as he thinks, with excellencies, that it is
his grounds of faith that all that look on him love
him; and on that vice in him will my revenge find
notable cause to work.
I will drop in his way some obscure epistles of
love; wherein, by the colour of his beard, the shape
of his leg, the manner of his gait, the expressure
of his eye, forehead, and complexion, he shall find
himself most feelingly personated. I can write very
like my lady your niece: on a forgotten matter we
can hardly make distinction of our hands.
excellent! i smell a device.
he shall think, by the letters that thou wilt drop,
that they come from my niece, and that she's in
love with him.
My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour.
And your horse now would make him an ass.
Sport royal, I warrant you: I know my physic will
work with him. I will plant you two, and let the
fool make a third, where he shall find the letter:
observe his construction of it. For this night, to
bed, and dream on the event. Farewell.
Before me, she's a good wench.
she's a beagle, true-bred, and one that adores me:
what o' that?
let's to bed, knight. thou hadst need send for
more money.
If I cannot recover your niece, I am a foul way out.
send for money, knight: if thou hast her not i'
the end, call me cut.
If I do not, never trust me, take it how you will.
come, come, i'll go burn some sack; 'tis too late
to go to bed now: come, knight; come, knight.
(Stage left. Feferi, the couch. Sollux, Terezi, the plants.)
