He has been yonder i' the sun practising
behaviour
to
his own shadow this half hour.
his own shadow this half hour.
Shakespeare
Nay, I'll come; if I lose a scruple of this sport let me be
boil'd to death with melancholy.
SIR TOBY. Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly rascally
sheep-biter come by some notable shame?
FABIAN. I would exult, man; you know he brought me out o' favour
with my lady about a bear-baiting here.
SIR TOBY. To anger him we'll have the bear again; and we will fool
him black and blue- shall we not, Sir Andrew?
AGUECHEEK. And we do not, it is pity of our lives.
Enter MARIA
SIR TOBY. 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.
boil'd to death with melancholy.
SIR TOBY. Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly rascally
sheep-biter come by some notable shame?
FABIAN. I would exult, man; you know he brought me out o' favour
with my lady about a bear-baiting here.
SIR TOBY. To anger him we'll have the bear again; and we will fool
him black and blue- shall we not, Sir Andrew?
AGUECHEEK. And we do not, it is pity of our lives.
Enter MARIA
SIR TOBY. 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.
