William Shakespeare: Twelfth Night

ACT II.
3. SCENE III. A Room in OLIVIA'S House. (continued)

MARIA.
Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for to-night; since the youth of
the count's was to-day with my 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.

SIR TOBY.
Possess us, possess us; tell us something of him.

MARIA.
Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of Puritan.

SIR ANDREW.
O, if I thought that, I'd beat him like a dog.

SIR TOBY.
What, for being a Puritan? thy exquisite reason, dear knight?

SIR ANDREW.
I have no exquisite reason for't, but I have reason good enough.

MARIA.
The devil a Puritan that he is, or anything 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 excellences, 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.

SIR TOBY.
What wilt thou do?

MARIA.
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.

SIR TOBY.
Excellent! I smell a device.

SIR ANDREW.
I have't in my nose too.

SIR TOBY.
He shall think, by the letters that thou wilt drop, that
they come from my niece, and that she is in love with him.

This is page 28 of 80. [Marked]
This title is on Your Bookshelf.
Customize text appearance:
Color: A A A A A   Font: Aa Aa   Size: 1 2 3 4 5   Defaults
(c) 2003-2012 LiteraturePage.com and Michael Moncur. All rights reserved.
For information about public domain texts appearing here, read the copyright information and disclaimer.