<-- back to Scene Four SCENE 5 OLIVIA'S house. Cupid, you pestulant twerp.
Maria comes out and pulls Feste from the music circle, dragging him inside the gate.
MARIA Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will not open my lips so wide as a bristle may enter in way of thy excuse: my lady will hang thee for thy absence.
FESTE Let her hang me: he that is well hanged in this world needs to fear no colours.
MARIA Make that good.
FESTE He shall see none to fear.Uk uk uk uk uk. Nothing like a disgruntled clown.
MARIA A good lenten answer: I can tell thee where that saying was born, of 'I fear no colours.'
FESTE Where, good Mistress Mary?
MARIA In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in your foolery.
FESTE Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those that are fools, let them use their talents.
MARIA Yet you will be hanged for being so long absent; or, to be turned away, is not that as good as a hanging to you?Genuinely concerned here, possibly close to tears. You could be fired and then I [did I say I? I meant we] would never see you again.
FESTE Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage; and, for turning away, let summer bear it out.
MARIA You are resolute, then?
FESTE Not so, neither;Throw the poor dog a bone, would you? She'll be so happy if you just play with her a little bit.
but I am resolved on two points.
He's been playing these improv word games with you as long as you've known him, and you love him for it, because it's his way of teaching you how to be as clever as him. The rules are simple: take what the master gives you and tweak it into something worthy of a professional Fool. The category is Two Points, for eight hundred. Go.
MARIA That if one break, the other will hold; or, if both break, your gaskins fall.
Good answer, grasshopper. The master is pleased.
FESTE Apt, in good faith; very apt.
But the implicit longing in the jest is a road to an oubliette your friendship has been bogged down in too many times before. She's witty as hell, and will make a good fool someday, but why does every single pun have to have a come-on or a double-entendre attached?
Well, go thy way; if Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria.
Beat. You don't want to hurt her, but the feelings just aren't there, and it really sucks. For both of you.
MARIA Peace, you rogue, no more o' that.
The uncomfortable silence of a woman who has been in love with Feste for a really long time, who wants to say something other than what doesn't need to be said and can't think of anything. Then...
Here comes my lady:
No more time for any more words, then. This could very well be it. The next time you see him he could be packing his bags to leave you, er, that is, leave your Lady, forever. Urgent reminder, near tears once again.
make your excuse wisely, you were best.
She ducks out, a nervous wreck.
FESTE Wit, an't be thy will, put me into good fooling!
A good bit more nervous than you were willing to let Maria see. Best not to worry the poor dear.
Those wits, that think they have thee, do very oft prove fools; and I, that am sure I lack thee, may pass for a wise man: for what says Quinapalus?
To the bauble.
'Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit.'
Olivia enters, with attendants, all wearing black. The women all wear black veils. Malvolio walks respectfully beside her, head bowed, although he does keep sneaking peeks at his pocket-watch.
God bless thee, lady!
OLIVIA Take the fool away.Two attendants move in to seize Feste, who leapfrogs and somersaults his way through their obstruction.
FESTE Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady.
OLIVIA Go to, you're a dry fool; I'll no more of you: besides, you grow dishonest.The following should be utter slapstick -- with the two attendants in varying degrees of success in attempting to apprehend Feste. Into the musicians, then out to the audience, then back again: this pursuit can spread over the entire arena.
FESTE Two faults, madonna, that drink and good counsel will amend: for give the dry fool drink, then is the fool not dry: bid the dishonest man mend himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if he cannot, let the botcher mend him. Any thing that's mended is but patched: virtue that transgresses is but patched with sin; and sin that amends is but patched with virtue. If that this simple syllogism will serve, so; if it will not, what remedy? As there is no true cuckold but calamity, so beauty's a flower. The lady bade take away the fool; therefore, I say again, take her away.
OLIVIA Sir, I bade them take away you.
FESTE Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, cucullus non facit monachum;The bauble is the one that speaks Latin. This always scares the hell out of Feste; he doesn't know where the voice comes from.
that's as much to say as I wear not motley in my brain.
Captured now, one on each leg and arm; calling backwards as he is led away.
Good madonna, give me leave to prove you a fool.
OLIVIA Can you do it?
FESTE Dexterously, good madonna.
OLIVIA Make your proof.The attendants attempt to drop him on his head, which he parlays into a somersault and a leap forward into Olivia's lap.
FESTE I must catechise you for it, madonna: good my mouse of virtue, answer me.
OLIVIA Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I'll bide your proof.
FESTE Good madonna, why mournest thou?
OLIVIA Good fool, for my brother's death.
FESTE I think his soul is in hell, madonna.Give this moment several beats to grow. Shock, then grief, then fury. Feste's the last man in your life you feel you can trust, you've been sick with worry over his absence, and now that he's back he just spit in your face. Standing up, Feste is spilled out of your lap.
OLIVIA I know his soul is in heaven, fool.
Storming out, into the audience. The attendants are too shocked to move, and don't want to grab Feste again just in case lightning is about to strike him.
FESTE The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your brother's soul being in heaven. Take away the fool, gentlemen.
We see it in her face. Goal. It was a pretty damn feeble jest, but it worked.
OLIVIA What think you of this fool, Malvolio? doth he not mend?
MALVOLIO Yes, and shall do till the pangs of death shake him: infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever make the better fool.
FESTE God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will be sworn that I am no fox; but he will not pass his word for two pence that you are no fool.Well, YO mamma's so fat...
OLIVIA How say you to that, Malvolio?
MALVOLIO I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such a barren rascal: I saw him put down the other day with an ordinary fool that has no more brain than a stone. Look you now, he's out of his guard already; unless you laugh and minister occasion to him, he is gagged. I protest, I take these wise men, that crow so at these set kind of fools, no better than the fools' zanies.
OLIVIA Oh, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste with a distempered appetite.And "It's-my-ball-I'm-going-home" is a pretty crummy way to win.
To be generous, guiltless and of free disposition, is to take those things for bird-bolts that you deem cannon-bullets: there is no slander in an allowed fool, though he do nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known discreet man, though he do nothing but reprove.
Good God but you've missed him. Wherever Feste went, it was for too damn long. You haven't smiled, not once, since he left. Neither, for that matter, has anyone else.
FESTE Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for thou speakest well of fools!
And you have no idea how much it hurts to need a lifeline.
Maria enters, Feste her first concern in spite of her duty, and positively grinning in relief to see Olivia holding Feste's hands instead of seeing the clown in chains, about to be dragged off. The son of a bitch did it. Again. Whew. Oh, yeah, and there's actual business to attend to as well.
MARIA Madam, there is at the gate a young gentleman much desires to speak with you.
OLIVIA From the Count Orsino, is it?
MARIA I know not, madam: 'tis a fair young man, and well attended.
OLIVIA Who of my people hold him in delay?
MARIA Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman.
OLIVIA Fetch him off, I pray you; he speaks nothing but madman: fie on him!Yeah, I know, I told him, and I told him, and I told him... Maria and the attendants exit.
Go you, Malvolio: if it be a suit from the count, I am sick, or not at home; what you will, to dismiss it.
Here I am, brain the size of a planet, and they ask me...
Malvolio exits, out towards the audience. Alone with Feste, Olivia takes off her veil and we see that she had been crying with grief and is now crying in equal parts grief and relief.Now you see, sir, how your fooling grows old, and people dislike it.
Well, I made you smile, and you made Mssr. Malcontent go away. I guess we're even.
FESTE Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy eldest son should be a fool; whose skull Jove cram with brains! for, -- here he comes, -- one of thy kin has a most weak pia mater.
Enter Sir Toby, more than half drunk and just verbally bitch-slapped by Maria. Trying really, really hard to stand straight rather than sway.
OLIVIA By mine honour, half drunk. What is he at the gate, cousin?
SIR TOBY A gentleman.Thanks for the bulletin. Lucky for you I grade on a curve.
OLIVIA A gentleman! what gentleman?
SIR TOBY 'Tis a gentle man here...For a moment, he lives up to his name...
a plague o' these pickle-herring!
And finally, he notices the Fool.
How now, sot!
FESTE Good Sir Toby!Okay, that's enough, put me down, Stoli-breath.
OLIVIA Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by this lethargy?
SIR TOBY Lechery! I defy lechery.And, uh, oh yeah.
There's one at the gate.
OLIVIA Ay, marry, what is he?
SIR TOBY Let him be the devil, an he will, I care not: give me faith, say I. Well, it's all one.Enjoy the buffet and please tip your servers. Toby exits.
OLIVIA What's a drunken man like, fool?
FESTE Like a drowned man, a fool and a mad man: one draught above heat makes him a fool; the second mads him; and a third drowns him.
OLIVIA Go thou and seek the crowner, and let him sit o' my coz; for he's in the third degree of drink, he's drowned: go, look after him.
FESTE He is but mad yet, madonna; and the fool shall look to the madman.As Feste leaves and Malvolio enters, there's an if-looks-could-kill moment between them. If either of them were different people, one might throw a punch. As it is, a glare will have to do.
MALVOLIO Madam, yond young fellow swears he will speak with you. I told him you were sick; he takes on him to understand so much, and therefore comes to speak with you. I told him you were asleep; he seems to have a foreknowledge of that too, and therefore comes to speak with you. What is to be said to him, lady? he's fortified against any denial.
OLIVIA Tell him he shall not speak with me.
MALVOLIO Has been told so; and he says, he'll stand at your door like a sheriff's post, and be the supporter to a bench, but he'll speak with you.Olivia peeks through the gates at this, and has just enough of a view of Cesario to see that he's not uncute.
OLIVIA What kind o' man is he?
MALVOLIO Why, of mankind.Brilliant response. Remind me again: why do I pay you people?
OLIVIA What manner of man?
MALVOLIO Of very ill manner; he'll speak with you, will you or no.Like everyone else in Olivia's household, Feste has rubbed off on Malvolio: in spite of himself, he can't give a straight line when a pun will serve. But Malvolio simply doesn't have the knack, or the timing, or the delivery, and part of why he distrusts the Fool is because every one of Malvolio's very witty jests always seem to fall flat. It must be a popularity contest, then, and not anything intrinsically valuable in this "humor" claptrap after all. Just as he always suspected. Hmph.
OLIVIA Of what personage and years is he?
MALVOLIO Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough for a boy; 'tis with him in standing water, between boy and man.These kids today.
He is very well-favoured and he speaks very shrewishly; one would think his mother's milk were scarce out of him.
Boy, I sure hope the interesting person at the front gate will hurry up and leave so I can get on with spending the afternoon with Malvolio's charming personality. Wait a minute. Second thought, you know what...
OLIVIA Let him approach: call in my gentlewoman.
MALVOLIO Gentlewoman, my lady calls.[Exit]We may hear just enough into the hallway to grok that Maria, in no uncertain terms, has only begun to give Sir Toby the what-for.
OLIVIA Give me my veil: come, throw it o'er my face. We'll once more hear Orsino's embassy.
The risers, Olivia, Maria, and the attendants are all veiled. It's like a miniature Stonehenge in black paisley.
VIOLA The honourable lady of the house, which is she?
OLIVIA Speak to me; I shall answer for her. Your will?Um... Great, only I'm not sure which big black lampshade just said that.
VIOLA Most radiant, exquisite and unmatchable beauty,
To Maria, or whichever lampshade is closest. She should probably direct some of this to various inanimate objects in the room, just in case one of them is sentient.
--I pray you, tell me if this be the lady of the house, for I never saw her: I would be loath to cast away my speech, for besides that it is excellently well penned, I have taken great pains to con it. Good beauties, let me sustain no scorn; I am very comptible, even to the least sinister usage.
OLIVIA Whence came you, sir?Like George W. Bush asked to name the president of Uruguay.
VIOLA I can say little more than I have studied, and that question's out of my part. Good gentle one, give me modest assurance if you be the lady of the house, that I may proceed in my speech.
OLIVIA Are you a comedian?
VIOLA No, my profound heart: and yet, by the very fangs of malice I swear, I am not that I play.But enough about my problems. Can I get a straight answer here? From anyone?
Are you the lady of the house?
OLIVIA If I do not usurp myself, I am.
VIOLA Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp yourself; for what is yours to bestow is not yours to reserve. But this is from my commission: I will on with my speech in your praise, and then show you the heart of my message.
OLIVIA Come to what is important in't: I forgive you the praise.Oh no you don't. Do you know how much WORK --
VIOLA Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis poetical.
OLIVIA It is the more like to be feigned: I pray you, keep it in. I heard you were saucy at my gates, and allowed your approach rather to wonder at you than to hear you. If you be not mad, be gone; if you have reason, be brief: 'tis not that time of moon with me to make one in so skipping a dialogue.You and me both, lady. Er, I mean, really? Wow. I'm really sorry to hear that.
MARIA Will you hoist sail, sir? here lies your way.
Echoing Feste's misadventure with the attendants, Viola slips out of Maria's grasp just before she can strongarm her out the door.
VIOLA No, good swabber; I am to hull here a little longer.
Maria tries to pick Viola up by her jacket, which she slips out of back into her seat.
Some mollification for your giant, sweet lady. Tell me your mind: I am a messenger.
OLIVIA Sure, you have some hideous matter to deliver, when the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak your office.
VIOLA It alone concerns your ear. I bring no overture of war, no taxation of homage: I hold the olive in my hand; my words are as full of peace as matter.
OLIVIA Yet you began rudely. What are you? what would you?
VIOLA The rudeness that hath appeared in me have I learned from my entertainment.You know, Herr Tall-Dark-and-Snarly at the gate and Little-Miss-Can't-Be-Wrong in here. By the way, did you pick the household staff yourself or did really spiteful relatives bequeath them?
What I am, and what I would, are as secret as maidenhead; to your ears, divinity, to any other's, profanation.
A long beat here, as you take in this youth before you. His sense of personal space is all whacked out, he's standing as close to you as one woman might stand to another -- but that gives you the chance to look into his eyes. Yow.
OLIVIA Give us the place alone: we will hear this divinity.
Maria and Attendants leave. Viola is quite startled to discover that the divan she was sitting on was actually an attendant. Oops.
Now, sir, what is your text?
VIOLA Most sweet lady,--
OLIVIA A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said of it. Where lies your text?
VIOLA In Orsino's bosom.
OLIVIA In his bosom! In what chapter of his bosom?Now this is what a Lady who's had years with an in-house Fool to sharpen her wordplay sounds like.
VIOLA To answer by the method, in the first of his heart.
OLIVIA O, I have read it: it is heresy. Have you no more to say?Don't bail out on me now, goddamnit. My Fool's been on sabbatical and this is the first interesting conversation I've had in weeks.
VIOLA Good madam, let me see your face.
OLIVIA Have you any commission from your lord to negotiate with my face? You are now out of your text: but we will draw the curtain and show you the picture. Look you, sir, such a one I was this present: is't not well done?
VIOLA Excellently done,Ahem.
...if God did all.
By the way, can I borrow some lipstick? Oh no, darn, wait. Never mind.
OLIVIA 'Tis in grain, sir; 'twill endure wind and weather.
VIOLA 'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on: lady, you are the cruell'st she alive, if you will lead these graces to the grave and leave the world no copy.
OLIVIA O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will give out divers schedules of my beauty: it shall be inventoried, and every particle and utensil labelled to my will: as, item, two lips, indifferent red; item, two grey eyes, with lids to them; item, one neck, one chin, anddot dot dot
so forth. Were you sent hither to praise me?
VIOLA I see you what you are, you are too proud;Lady, I don't write 'em, I just recite 'em.
But, if you were the devil, you are fair. My lord and master loves you:
goddamnit
o, such love could be but recompensed, though you were crown'd the nonpareil of beauty!
OLIVIA How does he love me?
VIOLA With adorations, fertile tears, with groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.and, you know, yadda yadda yadda...
OLIVIA Your lord does know my mind; I cannot love him: Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble, of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth; in voices well divulged, free, learn'd and valiant; and in dimension and the shape of nature a gracious person:
and, you know, yadda yadda yadda...
but yet I cannot love him;he might have took his answer long ago.
VIOLA If I did love you in my master's flame,Hypothetically speaking, of course.
with such a suffering, such a deadly life, in your denial I would find no sense; I would not understand it.
Not used to having people question her word, ever.
OLIVIA Why, what would you?
This speech should build to a literal climax; it's the most passionate thing Olivia's ever heard another person say, and it's about her. Whoa.
VIOLA Make me a willow cabin at your gate, and call upon my soul within the house; write loyal cantons of contemned love and sing them loud even in the dead of night; halloo your name to the reverberate hills and make the babbling gossip of the air cry out 'Olivia!'
Pause: the musicians are staring at them, jaws dropped. She composes herself a bit.
O, you should not rest between the elements of air and earth, but you should pity me!
OLIVIA You might do much.Do you have a cigarette?
What is your parentage?
VIOLA Above my fortunes, yet my state is well: I am a gentleman.Beat. Beat. And, oh, what the hell, another beat. Say something to him, for God's sake.
OLIVIA Get you to your lord; I cannot love him: let him send no more;
You have GOT to be kidding me. Focus, girlfriend, focus!
Unless, perchance, you come to me again, to tell me how he takes it. Fare you well: I thank you for your pains: spend this for me.
VIOLA I am no fee'd post, lady; keep your purse: my master, not myself, lacks recompense. Love make his heart of flint that you shall love; and let your fervor, like my master's, be placed in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty. [Viola exits into audience.]
OLIVIA 'What is your parentage?'Smacking forehead -- I finally got to meet Ricky Martin and the best thing I could come up with was 'What is your parentage?'
'Above my fortunes, yet my state is well: I am a gentleman.' I'll be sworn thou art; thy
Moment of reverie.
tongue, thy face, thy
Another moment.
limbs, actions and spirit, do give thee five-fold blazon:
Cold shower time. Savor it.
not too fast: soft, soft! Unless the master were the man. How now! Even so quickly may one catch the plague? Methinks I feel this youth's perfections with an invisible and subtle stealth to creep in at mine eyes. Well,
Most actualized moment in Olivia's entire sexual history.
let it be. What ho, Malvolio!
Putting on veil again, and then throwing it off. You're done with mourning, as of now. Trying to feign sternness, then abandoning all pretenses. Hell with it.
MALVOLIO Here, madam, at your service.
As Malvolio enters, Olivia all but pulls, drags, and then pushes him down the middle into the audience, and Malvolio moves from sputtering belligerently to enjoying the feel of his Lady's hands on his shoulders. She's never actually touched him before, and the precocious little girl he got to watch grow up is now a vibrant (and, as circumstances would have it, currently flushed and glowing) young woman. Hmmm...
OLIVIA Run after that same peevish messenger, the county's man: he left
Er... uh...
this ring
which only coincidentally looks just like the ring I've worn since I was twelve and don't seem to have on right now.
behind him, would I or not: tell him I'll none of it. Desire him not to flatter with his lord, nor hold him up with hopes; I am not for him: if that the youth will come this way to-morrow, I'll give him reasons for't: hie thee,
Shakespearean for "sic 'em"
Malvolio.
All boredom with your menial tasks gone: she's wound up in a considerably sexy way, and she needs you. Hmmm...
MALVOLIO Madam, I will. [Exit into audience.]
OLIVIA I do I know not what, and fear to find mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind. Fate, show thy force: ourselves we do not owe; what is decreed must be, and be this so. [Exit OSL.]--> on to Scene Six Twelfth Night Annotated Script © 2001 Kevin M. Hollenbeck.
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