Sir To. Why, how now, my bawcock? how dost thou, chuck 2 Mal. Sir 2
Sir To. Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, man 'tis not for gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan: Hang him, foul collier |
Mar. Get him to say his prayers; good sir Toby, get him to pray.
}} My prayers, minx : Mar. No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godliness. Mal. Go, hang yourselves all ! you are idle shallow things : I am not of your element: you shall know more hereafter.” The unscrupulous tormentors have some apprehension that he may verily go mad, from the complete success of their device. Sir Toby at first thinks that he may become actually insane from disappointment, when he finds that the castle building of his ambition is all in the clouds. “Why, thou hast put him in such a dream that when the image of it leaves him, he must run mad.” Now, however, they think that the very excess of his morbid vanity will bring him to this consummation.
“Fab. Why, we shall make him mad, indeed. Mar. The house will be the quieter. Sir To. Come, we'll have him in a dark-room, and bound.
My niece is already in the belief that he is mad; we may carry it thus, for our pleasure, and his penance, till our very pastime, tired out of breath, prompt us to have mercy on him ; at which time we will bring the device to the bar, and crown thee for a finder of madmen.”
He is put in the dark room and bound; and to carry on the riotous fun, an exorcist is provided in the Clown, repre senting Sir Topaz the Curate. “Clo. What, hoa, I say, Peace in this prison 1 Mal. [In an immer chamber.] Who calls, there? Clo. Sir Topaz, the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio the lunatic.
Mal. Sir Topaz, Sir Topaz, good Sir Topaz, go to my lady.
