Will you make me believe that I am not sent for you?
SEBASTIAN
Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow.Let me be clear of thee.
CLOWN
Well held out, i’ faith! No, I do not know you, nor I am not sent to you by my lady, to bid you come speak with her; nor your name is not Master Cesario; nor this is not my nose neither.Nothing that is so, is so.
SEBASTIAN
I prithee vent thy folly somewhere else,Thou know’st not me.
CLOWN
Vent my folly! He has heard that word of some great man, and now applies it to a fool. Vent my folly!I am afraid this great lubber, the world, will prove a cockneyA pampered, squeamish town-dweller..I prithee now, ungird thy strangeness, and tell me what I shall vent to my lady.Shall I vent to her that thou art coming?
SEBASTIAN
I prithee, foolish GreekA merry, roguish, or dissolute companion., depart from me.There’s money for thee; if you tarry longerI shall give worse payment.
CLOWN
By my troth, thou hast an open hand. These wise men that give fools money get themselves a good report—after fourteen years’ purchaseA method of valuing property by multiplying its annual income by a stated number of years..
Enter Sir Andrew, Sir Toby and Fabian.
SIR ANDREW
Now sir, have I met you again? There’s for you.
Striking Sebastian.
SEBASTIAN
Why, there’s for thee, and there, and there.Are all the people mad?
Beating Sir Andrew.
SIR TOBY
Hold, sir, or I’ll throw your dagger o’er the house.
CLOWN
This will I tell my lady straight. I would not be in some of your coats for twopence.
Exit Clown.
SIR TOBY
Come on, sir, hold!
SIR ANDREW
Nay, let him alone, I’ll go another way to work with him. I’ll have an action of batterya lawsuit seeking redress for unlawful physical violence. against him, if there be any law in Illyria. Though I struck him first, yet it’s no matter for that.
SEBASTIAN
Let go thy hand!
SIR TOBY
Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier, put up your iron: you are well fleshed. Come on.
SEBASTIAN
I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou now?If thou dar’st tempt me further, draw thy sword.
Draws.
SIR TOBY
What, what? Nay, then, I must have an ounce or two of this malapert blood from you.
Draws.
Enter Olivia.
OLIVIA
Hold, Toby! On thy life I charge thee hold!
SIR TOBY
Madam.
OLIVIA
Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch,Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves,Where manners ne’er were preach’d! Out of my sight!Be not offended, dear Cesario.Rudesbyan uncivil, ill-mannered fellow., be gone!
Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew and Fabian.
OLIVIA
I prithee, gentle friend,Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, swayIn this uncivil and unjust extenta legal seizure or enforcement of a claim against a person or their property.Against thy peace. Go with me to my house,And hear thou there how many fruitless pranksThis ruffian hath botch’d up, that thou therebyMayst smile at this. Thou shalt not choose but go.Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me,He started one poor heart of mine, in thee.
SEBASTIAN
What relish is in this? How runs the stream?Or I am mad, or else this is a dream.Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!
OLIVIA
Nay, come, I prithee. Would thou’dst be ruled by me!