Twelfe Night, or, What you
will.
in such a gowne. I am not tall enough to become the
function well, nor leane enough to bee thought a good
Studient: but to be said an honest man and a good hous
keeper goes as fairely, as to say, a carefull man, & a great
scholler. The Competitors enter.
Ioue blesse thee M. Parson.
Bonos dies sir
Toby: for as the old hermit of
Prage
that neuer saw pen and inke, very wittily sayd to a Neece
of King
Gorbodacke, that that is, is: so I being M. Parson,
am M. Parson; for what is that, but that? and is, but is?
To him sir
Topas.
What hoa, I say, Peace in this prison.
The knaue counterfets well: a good knaue.
Who cals there?
Sir
Topas the Curate, who comes to visit
Maluo
lio
the Lunaticke.
Sir
Topas, sir
Topas, good sir
Topas goe to my
Ladie.
Out hyperbolicall fiend, how vexest thou this
man? Talkest thou nothing but of Ladies
Well said M. Parson.
Sir
Topas, neuer was man thus wronged, good
sir
Topas do not thinke I am mad: they haue layde mee
heere in hideous darknesse.
Fye, thou dishonest sathan: I call thee by the
most modest termes, for I am one of those gentle ones,
that will vse the diuell himselfe with curtesie: sayst thou
that house is darke?
As hell sir
Topas.
Why it hath bay Windowes transparant as bari
cadoes, and the cleere stores toward the South north, are
as lustrous as Ebony: and yet complainest thou of ob
struction?
I am not mad sir
Topas, I say to you this house is
darke,
Madman thou errest: I say there is no darknesse
but ignorance, in which thou art more puzel'd then the
Ægyptians in their fogge.
I say this house is as darke as Ignorance, thogh
Ignorance were as darke as hell; and I say there was ne
uer man thus abus'd, I am no more madde then you are,
make the triall of it in any constant question.
What is the opinion of
Pythagoras concerning
Wilde‑fowle?
That the soule of our grandam, might happily
inhabite a bird.
What thinkst thou of his opinion
I thinke nobly of the soule, and no way aproue
his opinion.
Fare thee well: remaine thou still in darkenesse,
thou shalt hold th' opinion of
Pythagoras, ere I will allow
of thy wits, and feare to kill a Woodcocke, lest thou dis
possesse the soule of thy grandam. Fare thee well.
Sir
Topas, sir
Topas.
My most exquisite sir
Topas.
Nay I am for all waters.
Thou mightst haue done this without thy berd
and gowne, he sees thee not.
To him in thine owne voyce, and bring me word
how thou findst him: I would we were well ridde of this
knauery. If he may bee conueniently deliuer'd, I would
he were, for I am now so farre in offence with my Niece,
that I cannot pursue with any safety this sport the vppe
shot. Come by and by to my Chamber.
