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Act 2, Scene 5 — Olivia’s garden.
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The argument Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian hide in a box tree while Malvolio finds Maria's forged letter and reads it aloud — convinced it is from Olivia, professing love for him and demanding he wear yellow stockings cross-gartered and smile constantly. Malvolio exits in ecstasy. Maria returns to delight in her work.
Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew and Fabian.
SIR TOBY Maria advising Malvolio

Come thy ways, Signior Fabian.

If you desire the benefit of his doubt, you must first show yourself worthy of it.

If you want him to consider you, you've got to prove you're worth his time.

prove yourself first

FABIAN Malvolio trying charm

Nay, I’ll come. If I lose a scruple of this sport, let me be boiled to

death with melancholy.

Sweet lady, ho, ho!

Sweet lady! Hey there!

hey beautiful

SIR TOBY Olivia dismissing Malvolio

Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly rascally sheep-biter

come by some notable shame?

Smilest thou? I sent for thee on a sad occasion.

Why are you smiling? This is serious business.

this is serious

FABIAN

I would exult, man. You know he brought me out o’ favour with my lady

about a bear-baiting here.

I would exult, man. You know he brought me out o’ favour with my lady about a bear-baiting here.

i would exult, man. you know he brought me out o’ favour with my lady about a bear-baiting here.

I would exult, man. You know he brought me out o’ favour with my lady about a bear-baiting here.

SIR TOBY

To anger him we’ll have the bear again, and we will fool him black and

blue, shall we not, Sir Andrew?

To anger him we’ll have the bear again, and we will fool him black and blue, shall we not, Sir Andrew?

to anger him we’ll have the bear again, and we will fool him black and blue, shall we not, sir andrew?

To anger him we’ll have the bear again, and we will fool him black and blue, shall we not, Sir Andrew?

SIR ANDREW

And we do not, it is pity of our lives.

And we do not, it is pity of our lives.

and we do not, it is pity of our lives.

And we do not, it is pity of our lives.

Enter Maria.
SIR TOBY

Here comes the little villain. How now, my metal of India?

Here comes the little villain. How now, my metal of India?

here comes the little villain. how now, my metal of india?

Here comes the little villain. How now, my metal of India?

MARIA

Get ye all three into the box-tree. Malvolio’s coming down this walk;

he has been yonder i’ the sun practising behaviour to his own shadow

this half hour: observe him, for the love of mockery; for I know this

letter will make a contemplative idiot of him. Close, in the name of

jesting! [_The men hide themselves._] Lie thou there; [_Throws down a

letter_] for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling.

Get ye all three into the box-tree. Malvolio’s coming down this walk; he has been yonder i’ the sun practising behaviour to his own shadow this half hour: observe him, for the love of mockery; for I know this letter will make a contemplative idiot of him. Close, in the name of jesting! [_The men hide themselves._] Lie you there; [_Throws down a letter_] for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling.

get ye all three into the box-tree. malvolio’s coming down this walk; he has been yonder i’ the sun practising behaviour to his own shadow this half hour: observe him, for the love of mockery; for i know this letter will make a contemplative idiot of him. close, in the name of jesting! [_the men hide themselves._] lie you there; [_throws down a letter_] for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling.

Get ye all three into the box-tree. Malvolio’s coming down this walk; he has been yonder i’ the sun practising behaviour to his own shadow this half hour: observe him, for the love of mockery; for I know this

Why it matters Maria's final image — 'here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling' — is perfect. The trout doesn't know it's being caught. It just feels good being stroked. Malvolio will feel his vanity being gratified and won't feel the hook until he's already landed.
[_Exit Maria._]
Enter Malvolio.
MALVOLIO

’Tis but fortune, all is fortune. Maria once told me she did affect me,

and I have heard herself come thus near, that should she fancy, it

should be one of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a more

exalted respect than anyone else that follows her. What should I think

on’t?

’Tis but fortune, all is fortune. Maria once told me she did affect me, and I have heard herself come thus near, that should she fancy, it should be one of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a more exalted respect than anyone else that follows her. What should I think on’t?

’tis but fortune, all is fortune. maria once told me she did affect me, and i have heard herself come thus near, that should she fancy, it should be one of my complexion. besides, she uses me with a more exalted respect than anyone else that follows her. what should i think on’t?

’Tis but fortune, all is fortune. Maria once told me she did affect me, and I have heard herself come thus near, that should she fancy, it should be one of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a more

Why it matters This opening monologue is the crucial setup: Malvolio has already been constructing his fantasy before the letter. Maria's trap works because she's not planting the delusion from scratch — she's accelerating a process already underway. He was already halfway to believing this.
SIR TOBY

Here’s an overweening rogue!

Here’s an overweening rogue!

here’s an overweening rogue!

Here’s an overweening rogue!

FABIAN

O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him; how he jets

under his advanced plumes!

O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him; how he jets under his advanced plumes!

o, peace! contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him; how he jets under his advanced plumes!

O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him; how he jets under his advanced plumes!

SIR ANDREW

’Slight, I could so beat the rogue!

’Slight, I could so beat the rogue!

’slight, i could so beat the rogue!

’Slight, I could so beat the rogue!

SIR TOBY

Peace, I say.

Peace, I say.

peace, i say.

Peace, I say.

MALVOLIO

To be Count Malvolio.

To be Count Malvolio.

to be count malvolio.

To be Count Malvolio.

Why it matters This moment — just 'To be Count Malvolio' — is both the funniest thing Malvolio says and the saddest. The fantasy is entirely concrete. He doesn't want love, he doesn't want connection. He wants the title. He wants to outrank Sir Toby.
SIR TOBY

Ah, rogue!

Ah, rogue!

ah, rogue!

Ah, rogue!

SIR ANDREW

Pistol him, pistol him.

Pistol him, pistol him.

pistol him, pistol him.

Pistol him, pistol him.

SIR TOBY

Peace, peace.

Peace, peace.

peace, peace.

Peace, peace.

MALVOLIO

There is example for’t. The lady of the Strachy married the yeoman of

the wardrobe.

There is example for’t. The lady of the Strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe.

there is example for’t. the lady of the strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe.

There is example for’t. The lady of the Strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe.

SIR ANDREW

Fie on him, Jezebel!

Fie on him, Jezebel!

fie on him, jezebel!

Fie on him, Jezebel!

FABIAN

O, peace! now he’s deeply in; look how imagination blows him.

O, peace! now he’s deeply in; look how imagination blows him.

o, peace! now he’s deeply in; look how imagination blows him.

O, peace! now he’s deeply in; look how imagination blows him.

MALVOLIO

Having been three months married to her, sitting in my state—

Having been three months married to her, sitting in my state—

having been three months married to her, sitting in my state—

Having been three months married to her, sitting in my state—

SIR TOBY

O for a stone-bow to hit him in the eye!

O for a stone-bow to hit him in the eye!

o for a stone-bow to hit him in the eye!

O for a stone-bow to hit him in the eye!

MALVOLIO

Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet gown; having come

from a day-bed, where I have left Olivia sleeping.

Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet gown; having come from a day-bed, where I have left Olivia sleeping.

calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet gown; having come from a day-bed, where i have left olivia sleeping.

Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet gown; having come from a day-bed, where I have left Olivia sleeping.

SIR TOBY

Fire and brimstone!

Fire and brimstone!

fire and brimstone!

Fire and brimstone!

FABIAN

O, peace, peace.

O, peace, peace.

o, peace, peace.

O, peace, peace.

MALVOLIO

And then to have the humour of state; and after a demure travel of

regard, telling them I know my place as I would they should do theirs,

to ask for my kinsman Toby.

And then to have the humour of state; and after a demure travel of regard, telling them I know my place as I would they should do theirs, to ask for my kinsman Toby.

and then to have the humour of state; and after a demure travel of regard, telling them i know my place as i would they should do theirs, to ask for my kinsman toby.

And then to have the humour of state; and after a demure travel of regard, telling them I know my place as I would they should do theirs, to ask for my kinsman Toby.

SIR TOBY

Bolts and shackles!

Bolts and shackles!

bolts and shackles!

Bolts and shackles!

FABIAN

O, peace, peace, peace! Now, now.

O, peace, peace, peace! Now, now.

o, peace, peace, peace! now, now.

O, peace, peace, peace! Now, now.

MALVOLIO

Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for him. I frown

the while, and perchance wind up my watch, or play with some rich

jewel. Toby approaches; curtsies there to me—

Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for him. I frown the while, and perchance wind up my watch, or play with some rich jewel. Toby approaches; curtsies there to me—

seven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for him. i frown the while, and perchance wind up my watch, or play with some rich jewel. toby approaches; curtsies there to me—

Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for him. I frown the while, and perchance wind up my watch, or play with some rich jewel. Toby approaches; curtsies there to me—

SIR TOBY

Shall this fellow live?

Shall this fellow live?

shall this fellow live?

Shall this fellow live?

FABIAN

Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace!

Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace!

yough our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace!

Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace!

MALVOLIO

I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar smile with an

austere regard of control—

I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar smile with an austere regard of control—

i extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar smile with an austere regard of control—

I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar smile with an austere regard of control—

SIR TOBY

And does not Toby take you a blow o’ the lips then?

And does not Toby take you a blow o’ the lips then?

and does not toby take you a blow o’ the lips then?

And does not Toby take you a blow o’ the lips then?

MALVOLIO

Saying ‘Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast me on your niece, give me

this prerogative of speech—’

Saying ‘Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast me on your niece, give me this prerogative of speech—’

saying ‘cousin toby, my fortunes having cast me on your niece, give me this prerogative of speech—’

Saying ‘Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast me on your niece, give me this prerogative of speech—’

SIR TOBY

What, what?

What, what?

what, what?

What, what?

MALVOLIO

‘You must amend your drunkenness.’

‘You must amend your drunkenness.’

‘you must amend your drunkenness.’

‘You must amend your drunkenness.’

SIR TOBY

Out, scab!

Out, scab!

out, scab!

Out, scab!

FABIAN

Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot.

Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot.

nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot.

Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot.

MALVOLIO

‘Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish knight—’

‘Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish knight—’

‘besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish knight—’

‘Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish knight—’

SIR ANDREW

That’s me, I warrant you.

That’s me, I warrant you.

that’s me, i warrant you.

That’s me, I warrant you.

MALVOLIO

‘One Sir Andrew.’

‘One Sir Andrew.’

‘one sir andrew.’

‘One Sir Andrew.’

SIR ANDREW

I knew ’twas I, for many do call me fool.

I knew ’twas I, for many do call me fool.

i knew ’twas i, for many do call me fool.

I knew ’twas I, for many do call me fool.

[_Taking up the letter._] What employment have we here?
FABIAN

Now is the woodcock near the gin.

Now is the woodcock near the gin.

now is the woodcock near the gin.

Now is the woodcock near the gin.

SIR TOBY

O, peace! And the spirit of humours intimate reading aloud to him!

O, peace! And the spirit of humours intimate reading aloud to him!

o, peace! and the spirit of humours intimate reading aloud to him!

O, peace! And the spirit of humours intimate reading aloud to him!

MALVOLIO

By my life, this is my lady’s hand: these be her very C’s, her U’s, and

her T’s, and thus makes she her great P’s. It is in contempt of

question, her hand.

By my life, this is my lady’s hand: these be her very C’s, her U’s, and her T’s, and thus makes she her great P’s. It is in contempt of question, her hand.

by my life, this is my lady’s hand: these be her very c’s, her u’s, and her t’s, and thus makes she her great p’s. it is in contempt of question, her hand.

By my life, this is my lady’s hand: these be her very C’s, her U’s, and her T’s, and thus makes she her great P’s. It is in contempt of question, her hand.

"these be her very C's, her U's, and her T's" An almost certainly intentional obscenity — C-U-T spells what it sounds like it spells. Sir Andrew's bewildered 'Her C's, her U's, and her T's — why that?' suggests he's caught something, though he's not sure what. Shakespeare is having it both ways: Malvolio's reverent analysis of the handwriting is also an inadvertent obscenity.
SIR ANDREW

Her C’s, her U’s, and her T’s. Why that?

Her C’s, her U’s, and her T’s. Why that?

her c’s, her u’s, and her t’s. why that?

Her C’s, her U’s, and her T’s. Why that?

[_Reads._] _To the unknown beloved, this, and my good wishes._ Her very
MALVOLIO

phrases! By your leave, wax. Soft! and the impressure her Lucrece, with

which she uses to seal: ’tis my lady. To whom should this be?

phrases! By your leave, wax. Soft! and the impressure her Lucrece, with which she uses to seal: ’tis my lady. To whom should this be?

phrases! by your leave, wax. soft! and the impressure her lucrece, with which she uses to seal: ’tis my lady. to whom should this be?

phrases! By your leave, wax. Soft! and the impressure her Lucrece, with which she uses to seal: ’tis my lady. To whom should this be?

FABIAN

This wins him, liver and all.

This wins him, liver and all.

this wins him, liver and all.

This wins him, liver and all.

[_Reads._]
MALVOLIO

_ Jove knows I love,

But who?

Lips, do not move,

No man must know._

‘No man must know.’ What follows? The numbers alter’d! ‘No man must

know.’—If this should be thee, Malvolio?

_ Jove knows I love, But who? Lips, do not move, No man must know._ ‘No man must know.’ What follows? The numbers alter’d! ‘No man must know.’—If this should be thee, Malvolio?

_ jove knows i love, but who? lips, do not move, no man must know._ ‘no man must know.’ what follows? the numbers alter’d! ‘no man must know.’—if this should be thee, malvolio?

_ Jove knows I love, But who? Lips, do not move,

SIR TOBY

Marry, hang thee, brock!

Marry, hang thee, brock!

marry, hang thee, brock!

Marry, hang thee, brock!

MALVOLIO ≋ verse

_ I may command where I adore,

But silence, like a Lucrece knife,

With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore;

M.O.A.I. doth sway my life._

_ I may command where I adore, But silence, like a Lucrece knife, With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore; M.O.A.I. doth sway my life._

_ i may command where i adore, but silence, like a lucrece knife, with bloodless stroke my heart doth gore; m.o.a.i. doth sway my life._

_ I may command where I adore, But silence, like a Lucrece knife, With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore;

FABIAN

A fustian riddle!

A fustian riddle!

a fustian riddle!

A fustian riddle!

SIR TOBY

Excellent wench, say I.

Excellent wench, say I.

excellent wench, say i.

Excellent wench, say I.

MALVOLIO

‘M.O.A.I. doth sway my life.’—Nay, but first let me see, let me see,

let me see.

‘M.O.A.I. doth sway my life.’—Nay, but first let me see, let me see, let me see.

‘m.o.a.i. doth sway my life.’—nay, but first let me see, let me see, let me see.

‘M.O.A.I. doth sway my life.’—Nay, but first let me see, let me see, let me see.

FABIAN

What dish o’ poison has she dressed him!

What dish o’ poison has she dressed him!

what dish o’ poison has she dressed him!

What dish o’ poison has she dressed him!

SIR TOBY

And with what wing the staniel checks at it!

And with what wing the staniel checks at it!

and with what wing the staniel checks at it!

And with what wing the staniel checks at it!

MALVOLIO

‘I may command where I adore.’ Why, she may command me: I serve her,

she is my lady. Why, this is evident to any formal capacity. There is

no obstruction in this. And the end—what should that alphabetical

position portend? If I could make that resemble something in me!

Softly! ‘M.O.A.I.’—

‘I may command where I adore.’ Why, she may command me: I serve her, she is my lady. Why, this is evident to any formal capacity. There is no obstruction in this. And the end—what should that alphabetical position portend? If I could make that resemble something in me! Softly! ‘M.O.A.I.’—

‘i may command where i adore.’ why, she may command me: i serve her, she is my lady. why, this is evident to any formal capacity. there is no obstruction in this. and the end—what should that alphabetical position portend? if i could make that resemble something in me! softly! ‘m.o.a.i.’—

‘I may command where I adore.’ Why, she may command me: I serve her, she is my lady. Why, this is evident to any formal capacity. There is no obstruction in this. And the end—what should that alphabetical

SIR TOBY

O, ay, make up that:—he is now at a cold scent.

O, ay, make up that:—he is now at a cold scent.

o, ay, make up that:—he is now at a cold scent.

O, ay, make up that:—he is now at a cold scent.

FABIAN

Sowter will cry upon’t for all this, though it be as rank as a fox.

Sowter will cry upon’t for all this, yough it be as rank as a fox.

sowter will cry upon’t for all this, yough it be as rank as a fox.

Sowter will cry upon’t for all this, though it be as rank as a fox.

MALVOLIO

‘M’—Malvolio; ‘M!’ Why, that begins my name!

‘M’—Malvolio; ‘M!’ Why, that begins my name!

‘m’—malvolio; ‘m!’ why, that begins my name!

‘M’—Malvolio; ‘M!’ Why, that begins my name!

FABIAN

Did not I say he would work it out? The cur is excellent at faults.

Did not I say he would work it out? The cur is excellent at faults.

did not i say he would work it out? the cur is excellent at faults.

Did not I say he would work it out? The cur is excellent at faults.

MALVOLIO

‘M’—But then there is no consonancy in the sequel; that suffers under

probation: ‘A’ should follow, but ‘O’ does.

‘M’—But then there is no consonancy in the sequel; that suffers under probation: ‘A’ should follow, but ‘O’ does.

‘m’—but then there is no consonancy in the sequel; that suffers under probation: ‘a’ should follow, but ‘o’ does.

‘M’—But then there is no consonancy in the sequel; that suffers under probation: ‘A’ should follow, but ‘O’ does.

FABIAN

And ‘O’ shall end, I hope.

And ‘O’ shall end, I hope.

and ‘o’ shall end, i hope.

And ‘O’ shall end, I hope.

SIR TOBY

Ay, or I’ll cudgel him, and make him cry ‘O!’

Ay, or I’ll cudgel him, and make him cry ‘O!’

ay, or i’ll cudgel him, and make him cry ‘o!’

Ay, or I’ll cudgel him, and make him cry ‘O!’

MALVOLIO

And then ‘I’ comes behind.

And then ‘I’ comes behind.

and then ‘i’ comes behind.

And then ‘I’ comes behind.

FABIAN

Ay, and you had any eye behind you, you might see more detraction at

your heels than fortunes before you.

Ay, and you had any eye behind you, you might see more detraction at your heels than fortunes before you.

ay, and you had any eye behind you, you might see more detraction at your heels than fortunes before you.

Ay, and you had any eye behind you, you might see more detraction at your heels than fortunes before you.

MALVOLIO

‘M.O.A.I.’ This simulation is not as the former: and yet, to crush this

a little, it would bow to me, for every one of these letters are in my

name. Soft, here follows prose.

‘M.O.A.I.’ This simulation is not as the former: and yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of these letters are in my name. Soft, here follows prose.

‘m.o.a.i.’ this simulation is not as the former: and yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of these letters are in my name. soft, here follows prose.

‘M.O.A.I.’ This simulation is not as the former: and yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of these letters are in my name. Soft, here follows prose.

"to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for every one of these letters are in my name" Malvolio's self-delusion in miniature. The letters M, O, A, I all appear in MALVOLIO — but not in that order. He knows it doesn't quite fit. So he 'crushes it a little' — applies just enough intellectual pressure to make it yield to the conclusion he wants. This is motivated reasoning in action: the evidence is weak, but the desire is strong enough to bend it.
Why it matters This moment — 'to crush this a little, it would bow to me' — is the key to Malvolio's character and his tragedy. He knows the evidence is weak. He bends it anyway. This is not stupidity. It is the specific cognitive failure of self-love: the belief that what you want to be true is true.
🎭 Dramatic irony Malvolio knows the M.O.A.I. anagram doesn't fit his name properly — he admits it 'suffers under probation.' He bends the evidence anyway. The audience watches him choose his delusion.
[_Reads._] _If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I am above
thee, but be not afraid of greatness. Some are born great, some achieve
greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon ’em. Thy fates open
their hands, let thy blood and spirit embrace them. And, to inure
thyself to what thou art like to be, cast thy humble slough and appear
fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants. Let thy tongue
tang arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of singularity. She
thus advises thee that sighs for thee. Remember who commended thy
yellow stockings, and wished to see thee ever cross-gartered. I say,
remember. Go to, thou art made, if thou desir’st to be so. If not, let
me see thee a steward still, the fellow of servants, and not worthy to
touch Fortune’s fingers. Farewell. She that would alter services with
thee,
The Fortunate Unhappy._
Daylight and champian discovers not more! This is open. I will be
proud, I will read politic authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash
off gross acquaintance, I will be point-device, the very man. I do not
now fool myself, to let imagination jade me; for every reason excites
to this, that my lady loves me. She did commend my yellow stockings of
late, she did praise my leg being cross-gartered, and in this she
manifests herself to my love, and with a kind of injunction, drives me
to these habits of her liking. I thank my stars, I am happy. I will be
strange, stout, in yellow stockings, and cross-gartered, even with the
swiftness of putting on. Jove and my stars be praised!—Here is yet a
postscript. [_Reads._] _Thou canst not choose but know who I am. If
thou entertain’st my love, let it appear in thy smiling; thy smiles
become thee well. Therefore in my presence still smile, dear my sweet,
I prithee._ Jove, I thank thee. I will smile, I will do everything that
thou wilt have me.
[_Exit._]
FABIAN

I will not give my part of this sport for a pension of thousands to be

paid from the Sophy.

I will not give my part of this sport for a pension of yousands to be paid from the Sophy.

i will not give my part of this sport for a pension of yousands to be paid from the sophy.

I will not give my part of this sport for a pension of thousands to be paid from the Sophy.

SIR TOBY

I could marry this wench for this device.

I could marry this wench for this device.

i could marry this wench for this device.

I could marry this wench for this device.

SIR ANDREW

So could I too.

So could I too.

so could i too.

So could I too.

SIR TOBY

And ask no other dowry with her but such another jest.

And ask no other dowry with her but such another jest.

and ask no other dowry with her but such another jest.

And ask no other dowry with her but such another jest.

Enter Maria.
SIR ANDREW

Nor I neither.

Nor I neither.

nor i neither.

Nor I neither.

FABIAN

Here comes my noble gull-catcher.

Here comes my noble gull-catcher.

here comes my noble gull-catcher.

Here comes my noble gull-catcher.

SIR TOBY

Wilt thou set thy foot o’ my neck?

Wilt you set your foot o’ my neck?

wilt you set your foot o’ my neck?

Wilt thou set thy foot o’ my neck?

SIR ANDREW

Or o’ mine either?

Or o’ mine either?

or o’ mine either?

Or o’ mine either?

SIR TOBY

Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and become thy bond-slave?

Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and become your bond-slave?

shall i play my freedom at tray-trip, and become your bond-slave?

Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and become thy bond-slave?

SIR ANDREW

I’ faith, or I either?

I’ faith, or I either?

i’ faith, or i either?

I’ faith, or I either?

SIR TOBY

Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that when the image of it

leaves him he must run mad.

Why, you hast put him in such a dream, that when the image of it leaves him he must run mad.

why, you hast put him in such a dream, that when the image of it leaves him he must run mad.

Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that when the image of it leaves him he must run mad.

Why it matters Sir Toby says this lightly, as a compliment. But it's also a prediction. Malvolio is going to be put in the dark room. The collapse of his fantasy is going to be worse than anyone here intends — because the intention was humiliation, and the result will be something closer to torture.
MARIA

Nay, but say true, does it work upon him?

Nay, but say true, does it work upon him?

nay, but say true, does it work upon him?

Nay, but say true, does it work upon him?

SIR TOBY

Like aqua-vitae with a midwife.

Like aqua-vitae with a midwife.

like aqua-vitae with a midwife.

Like aqua-vitae with a midwife.

MARIA

If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark his first approach

before my lady: he will come to her in yellow stockings, and ’tis a

colour she abhors, and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests; and he

will smile upon her, which will now be so unsuitable to her

disposition, being addicted to a melancholy as she is, that it cannot

but turn him into a notable contempt. If you will see it, follow me.

If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark his first approach before my lady: he will come to her in yellow stockings, and ’tis a colour she abhors, and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests; and he will smile upon her, which will now be so unsuitable to her disposition, being addicted to a melancholy as she is, that it cannot but turn him into a notable contempt. If you will see it, follow me.

if you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark his first approach before my lady: he will come to her in yellow stockings, and ’tis a colour she abhors, and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests; and he will smile upon her, which will now be so unsuitable to her disposition, being addicted to a melancholy as she is, that it cannot but turn him into a notable contempt. if you will see it, follow me.

If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark his first approach before my lady: he will come to her in yellow stockings, and ’tis a colour she abhors, and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests; and he

Why it matters Maria reveals the full elegance of her trap: the letter gives instructions that will look insane to Olivia precisely because they're specific and observable. Yellow stockings (she hates yellow). Cross-gartered (she hates the style). Constant smiling (she's in mourning). Every instruction is calibrated to make Malvolio seem mad — which means the next stage of his humiliation is already designed.
SIR TOBY

To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit!

To the gates of Tartar, you most excellent devil of wit!

to the gates of tartar, you most excellent devil of wit!

To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit!

SIR ANDREW

I’ll make one too.

I’ll make one too.

i’ll make one too.

I’ll make one too.

[_Exeunt._]

The Reckoning

This is the funniest scene in Twelfth Night, and also the most uncomfortable — because the man being destroyed by it is doing the work himself. Malvolio picks up the letter, and the letter plays him like a fish on a line. Every time he encounters something that doesn't quite fit, he bends the evidence to fit the conclusion he wants. The M.O.A.I. anagram doesn't spell his name, but 'every one of these letters are in my name.' The stockings are a color Olivia hates, but he's convinced she loves them. The cruelty is that the letter doesn't have to be convincing. Malvolio does all the convincing himself.

If this happened today…

You and three friends hide behind some bushes to watch your coworker find a fake love letter you've planted — ostensibly from the CEO. The letter tells him to wear a terrible outfit, be rude to everyone, and smile constantly. He reads it, doesn't question a word of it, and starts making a list of changes. By the end he's thanking God. You can barely contain yourselves.

Continue to 3.1 →