No More Learning

Here comes the little villain.
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 behaviour 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! [As the men hide she drops
a letter] Lie thou there; 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.
Here's an overweening rogue!
FABIAN. O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him;
how he jets under his advanc'd plumes!
AGUECHEEK. 'Slight, I could so beat the rogue-
SIR TOBY. Peace, I say.
MALVOLIO. To be Count Malvolio!
SIR TOBY. Ah, rogue!
AGUECHEEK. Pistol him, pistol him.
SIR TOBY. Peace, peace!
MALVOLIO.