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SCENE 16 OLIVIA's house. Visiting Malvolio the lunatic.
As the daughter of a colonial power, Olivia's property would very likely contain some sort of locked dungeon like this, and probably a guillotine or public stocks. Olivia's temperament suggests that she would have done away with the more gruesome accoutrements, but the room remains, now serving double duty as a coal cellar.
Maria enters, with a costume bundle in her hands, and walks over to Feste, who again emerges from the musician's circle, and hands him the garb.
MARIA Nay, I prithee, put on this gown and this beard; make him believe thou art Sir Topas the curate: do it quickly; I'll call Sir Toby the whilst. [She exits.]
Setting the bauble down by sticking it inside the bag of tricks.
FESTE Well, I'll put it on, and I will dissemble myself in't; and I would I were the first that ever dissembled in such a gown.
Putting on the gown and the beard and the hat (a Father Guido Sarducci costume, essentially), you pick the bauble back up out of the bag, [actually a second bauble, as described below] and double-take with a bit of fear. The bauble is now also dressed in a gown and a beard and a hat. Which is a little spooky as far as you're concerned, considering that you didn't put them on the bauble. It's one of those mystical clown powers you've learned not to question: your bauble always looks like whatever you look like. Creepy as hell, but it's in the job description.
I am not tall enough to become the function well, nor lean enough to be thought a good student; but to be said an honest man and a good housekeeper goes as fairly as to say a careful man and a great scholar. The competitors enter.
Maria brings in Sir Toby. He is an entirely different man from the gruff drunk we met in Act One. Not only is his continued membership in his niece's household uncertain, but he's becoming aware of a certain degree of self-sabotage. He's put himself in considerable danger: he almost got himself and Sir Andrew killed dishonorably in a game of combat that went way too far, he's close to being thrown out on his ear, and now he's just trying to land safely. The writing is on the wall.
SIR TOBY Jove bless thee, master Parson.
FESTE Bonos dies, Sir Toby:Again, interplay with the bauble with the Spanish and the name of King Gorboduc. Maria thinks the parson-dressed bauble is the cutest thing she's ever seen. You're glad she's amused, but man oh man is it giving you the creeps.
for, as the old hermit of Prague, that never saw pen and ink, very wittily said to a niece of King Gorboduc, 'That that is is; 'so I, being Master Parson, am Master Parson; for, what is 'that' but 'that,' and 'is' but 'is'?
It's not exactly hostility per se, but Feste is throwing a lot of tension at Sir Toby in this scene. The two knights ganging up on poor Cesario was simply uncool. Not only that, with this latest game, Toby broke the rules of good foolmanship, and now Feste has to bail him out. He's not helping Sir Toby out of this without making sure he knows that he screwed up big time. Toby, meanwhile, is nothing but conciliatory.
SIR TOBY To him, Sir Topas.
Televangelical: it's tent revival time. Hard to overdo this.
FESTE What, ho, I say! peace in this prison!
SIR TOBY The knave counterfeits well; a good knave.
MALVOLIO Who calls there?
FESTE Sir Topas the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio the lunatic.
MALVOLIO Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to my lady.
FESTE Out, hyperbolical fiend! how vexest thou this man! talkest thou nothing but of ladies?
SIR TOBY Well said, Master Parson.
MALVOLIO Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged: good Sir Topas, do not think I am mad: they have laid me here in hideous darkness.
FESTE Fie, thou dishonest Satan! I call thee by the most modest terms; for I am one of those gentle ones that will use the devil himself with courtesy: sayest thou that house is dark?
MALVOLIO As hell, Sir Topas.
FESTE Why it hath bay windows transparent as barricadoes, and the clearstores toward the south north are as lustrous as ebony; and yet complainest thou of obstruction?
MALVOLIO I am not mad, Sir Topas: I say to you, this house is dark.
FESTE Madman, thou errest: I say, there is no darkness but ignorance; in which thou art more puzzled than the Egyptians in their fog.
MALVOLIO I say, this house is as dark as ignorance, though ignorance were as dark as hell; and I say, there was never man thus abused. I am no more mad than you are: make the trial of it in any constant question.
FESTE What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild fowl?
MALVOLIO That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird.
FESTE What thinkest thou of his opinion?
MALVOLIO I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his opinion.
FESTE Fare thee well. Remain thou still in darkness: thou shalt hold the opinion of Pythagoras ere I will allow of thy wits, and fear to kill a woodcock, lest thou dispossess the soul of thy grandam. Fare thee well.
MALVOLIO Sir Topas, Sir Topas!
SIR TOBY My most exquisite Sir Topas!You're not going to let Toby off easily on this one: the apprentice has made far too many brooms, and now you're the one who has to mop up the basement.
FESTE Nay, I am for all waters.
Okay, kids. You've successfully destroyed the poor guy. Happy?
MARIA Thou mightst have done this without thy beard and gown: he sees thee not.
The joke has gone much too far, and the implications are devastating. Your sense of humor is as important to you as a hunter's sense of sight, and losing a quarry to blurred vision which refused to clear would not frighten you more. If you've lost your touch, the thing that makes you what you are could very well be gone for good.
SIR TOBY To him in thine own voice, and bring me word how thou findest him.
This is an intimate confidence to Feste and Maria that suggests vulnerability in Sir Toby they've never seen before. For Feste, it is a devastating concession: he's handing you his sword and declaring himself vanquished. For Maria, it is heartbreaking: the guy who always seemed to know everything is admitting that his confidence is shot and that he needs her.
I would we were well rid of this knavery. If he may be conveniently delivered, I would he were, for I am now so far in offence with my niece that I cannot pursue with any safety this sport to the upshot.
This might have been a saucy command before, but now it's a pitiable plea. The difference is not lost on Maria.
Come by and by to my chamber.
An embrace, and Sir Toby exits. An uncertain beat of Maria's to Feste: "Are you going to be hurt if I do this?" "No, my dear, I'm going to be hurt if you don't." She exits.
FESTE 'Hey, Robin, jolly Robin,
Tell me how thy lady does.'
MALVOLIO Fool!
FESTE 'My lady is unkind, perdy.'
MALVOLIO Fool!
FESTE 'Alas, why is she so?'
MALVOLIO Fool, I say!
FESTE 'She loves another'--Who calls, ha?
MALVOLIO Good fool, as ever thou wilt deserve well at my hand, help me to a candle, and pen, ink and paper: as I am a gentleman, I will live to be thankful to thee for't.
FESTE Master Malvolio?
MALVOLIO Ay, good fool.
FESTE Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits?
MALVOLIO Fool, there was never a man so notoriously abused: I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art.
FESTE But as well? then you are mad indeed, if you be no better in your wits than a fool.
MALVOLIO They have here propertied me; keep me in darkness, send ministers to me, asses, and do all they can to face me out of my wits.
FESTE Advise you what you say; the minister is here.Voice of the bauble, still dressed as a minister, speaking as Sir Topas.
Malvolio, Malvolio, thy wits the heavens restore! endeavour thyself to sleep, and leave thy vain bibble babble.
MALVOLIO Sir Topas!
FESTE Maintain no words with him, good fellow. Who, I, sir? not I, sir. God be wi' you, good Sir Topas. Merry, amen. I will, sir, I will.The bauble, once again singing "99 Bottles Of Beer" in Latin, doppler sings off into the distance.
MALVOLIO Fool, fool, fool, I say!
FESTE Alas, sir, be patient.The bauble, singing softer, marching off further still.
What say you sir? I am shent for speaking to you.
MALVOLIO Good fool, help me to some light and some paper: I tell thee, I am as well in my wits as any man in Illyria.
FESTE Well-a-day that you were, sir
MALVOLIO By this hand, I am. Good fool, some ink, paper and light; and convey what I will set down to my lady: it shall advantage thee more than ever the bearing of letter did.
FESTE I will help you to't. But tell me true, are you not mad indeed? or do you but counterfeit?
MALVOLIO Believe me, I am not; I tell thee true.
FESTE Nay, I'll ne'er believe a madman till I see his brains.Slamming the door, met by sobbing by Malvolio. Feste turns to walk away, and then relents. He dislikes what's being done to Malvolio even more than he dislikes Malvolio, which is saying a lot.
I will fetch you light and paper and ink.
MALVOLIO Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree: I prithee, be gone.
FESTE I am gone, sir,
And anon, sir,
I'll be with you again,
In a trice,
Like to the old Vice,
Your need to sustain;
Who, with dagger of lath,
In his rage and his wrath,
Cries, ah, ha! to the devil:
Like a mad lad,
Pare thy nails, dad;
Adieu, good man devil.[Feste exits. Lights out: the prison set is undone and the garden is restored.]
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