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Jove bless thee, Master Parson. |
CLOWN. |
Bonos dies, Sir Toby: 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? |
SIR TOBY. |
To him, Sir Topas. |
CLOWN. |
What, hoa, I say,--Peace in this prison! |
SIR TOBY. |
The knave counterfeits well; a good knave. |
MALVOLIO. |
[In an inner chamber.] Who calls there? |
CLOWN. |
Sir Topas the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio the |
lunatic. |
MALVOLIO. |
Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to my lady. |
CLOWN. |
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. |
CLOWN. |
Fie, thou dishonest Sathan! I call thee by the most modest |
terms; for I am one of those gentle ones that will use the devil |
himself with courtesy. Say'st thou that house is dark? |
MALVOLIO. |
As hell, Sir Topas. |
CLOWN. |
Why, it hath bay windows transparent as barricadoes, and the |
clear storeys 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. |
CLOWN. |
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. |
CLOWN. |
What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild-fowl? |
MALVOLIO. |
That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird. |
CLOWN. |
What thinkest thou of his opinion? |
MALVOLIO. |
I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his opinion. |
CLOWN. |
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! |
CLOWN. |
Nay, I am for all waters. |
MARIA. |
Thou mightst have done this without thy beard and gown: he |
sees thee not. |
SIR TOBY. |
To him in thine own voice, and bring me word how thou |
findest him; 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 |
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