Twelfth Night

Come along with us, Signor Fabian.

I’m coming, don’t worry. If I miss this, let me be boiled alive.

Won’t you be glad to see that rascal dog humiliated?

I’ll be thrilled. You know, he got me in trouble with the lady of the house once when I arranged a bear-baiting here.

We’ll have another bear-baiting just to make him angry, and we’ll mock him till he’s black and blue. Won’t we, Sir Andrew?

If we don’t, it’ll be the biggest disappointment of our lives.

Here comes the little villain herself.

How are you, my golden girl?

Hide behind the boxwood hedge, all three of you. Malvolio’s coming down the path. He’s been over there practicing how to act for the past half hour. Watch him carefully if you want to have some fun, guys. This letter’s going to turn him into a starry-eyed idiot. Now hide, for God’s sake!

Now, you lie there on the path. (MARIA throws down a letter) Here comes the fish that’s going to gobble up our bait.

It’s all luck. Everything’s luck. Maria once told me Olivia was fond of me. I’ve almost heard Olivia say that herself. She said if she were interested in someone, it would be someone who looked like me. Besides, she treats me more respectfully than the other servants. What’s the obvious conclusion from that?

(whispering) What an egomaniac!

(whispering) Shh! When he’s alone with his thoughts, he’s even more like a haughty peacock. Watch him strut!

(whispering) I swear, I’d like to beat the jerk so hard!

(whispering) Be quiet!

Just think, I could be Count Malvolio!

(whispering) Ah, what a jerk!

(whispering) Shoot him, just shoot him.

(whispering) Shh, shh!

After all, it wouldn’t be the first time that kind of thing has happened. Lady Strachy married her wardrobe manager.

(whispering) Damn him, the arrogant fool!

(whispering) Shh! We’ve got him right where we want him. He’s on a big ego trip.

Just think of me, having been married to her for three months, sitting around majestically—

(whispering) If only I had a slingshot so I could hit him in the eye!

Calling my servants together, wearing an embroidered robe, having just come from a couch where I’ve left Olivia sleeping—

(whispering) That does it!

(whispering) Oh, be quiet, be quiet!

Then I’d put on a lofty and exalted expression. I’d look around the room calmly, then tell them that I know my place, and I’d like them to know theirs. Then I’d tell them to go find my cousin Toby—

(whispering) That really does it!

(whispering) Oh, quiet, quiet! Please, please.

I’d send seven of my servants to go get him. While I waited, I’d frown impatiently, and perhaps wind my watch, or play with my—with some expensive piece of jewelry I happen to be wearing. Toby would approach me. He’d bow to me—

(whispering) Are we going to let this guy live?

(whispering) Yes, we have to be quiet, even if it’s torture.

I reach out my hand to him like this, giving him a stern look instead of my usual friendly smile—

(whispering) And then doesn’t Toby punch you in the mouth?

And I’d say to him, “Cousin Toby, since I’ve been lucky enough to marry your niece, I have the right to say a few things to you—”

(whispering) Oh yeah, like what?

“You must stop being such a drunk.”

(whispering) Get out of here, you scab!

(whispering) No, be quiet, or we’ll screw up the joke.

“And you’re wasting your time with that foolish knight—”

(whispering) That’s me, I bet.

“That Sir Andrew—”

(whispering) I knew he was talking about me. A lot of people call me foolish.

(seeing the letter) What’s this?

(whispering) He’s taking the bait.

(whispering) Shhh! I hope he reads it out loud, to make it funnier!

(picking up the letter) My goodness, this is my lady’s handwriting! These are her C’s, her U’s and her T’s, and that’s how she makes her big P’s. It’s definitely her handwriting, no doubt about it.

(whispering) Her C’s, her U’s, and her T’s. Why focus on that?

(reads) To my dear beloved who doesn’t know I love him, I send you this letter with all my heart“—That’s exactly how she talks! Excuse me, sealing wax. (he breaks the seal) Wait! This is the stamp my lady seals her letters with—it has a picture of Lucrece on it. This letter is from Olivia. Who is this written to?

(whispering) This’ll get him.

(he reads)

”God knows I love someone.

But who?

I can’t let my lips say his name;

No man must know.“

”No man must know.“ What comes after that? Look, the meter changes in her poem. ”No man must know.“ What if this someone were you, Malvolio?

(whispering) Go hang yourself, you stinking badger!

(reading)

”I may order the one I love.

But silence, like a knife, cuts open my heart

With strokes that draw no blood.

M.O.A.I. rules my life.“

(whispering) What a pretentious riddle!

(whispering) That Maria has outdone herself!

”M.O.A.I. rules my life.“ Hmm, let me see, let me see, let me see.

(whispering) What a dish of poison she’s mixed for him!

(whispering) And look how willingly he’s taking the bait.

”I may command the one I love.“ Well, she commands me. I’m her servant. She’s my boss. Why, anyone can see what this means. There’s no ambiguity here. But the end, what do those letters mean? If only I could somehow relate them to me! Hmm. M.O.A.I.—

(whispering) Oh, bad dog.—He’s losing the scent!

(whispering) He’ll find it again, no matter how much it stinks.

”M“—Malvolio. ”M“—why, that’s the first letter in my name.

(whispering) Didn’t I tell you he’d figure it out? This dog’s excellent at following false leads.

”M.“ But then the next letter isn’t the same. ”A“ should be next, but instead ”O“ comes next.

(whispering) And an ”O“ like a noose will end this, I hope.

(whispering) Yeah, or I’ll beat him up and make him yell ”Oh!“

And then the ”I“ comes next.

(whispering) If you had an I in the back of your head, you’d see trouble behind you.

M.O.A.I. This code’s not as easy to crack as the other one. But if I shake it up a little it’ll work, because every one of those letters is in my name. But wait, there’s some prose after her poem.

(he reads)

”If this letter falls into your hands, think carefully about what it says. By my birth I rank above you, but don’t be afraid of my greatness. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them. Your fate awaits you. Accept it in body and spirit. To get used to the life you’ll most likely be leading soon, get rid of your low-class trappings. Show some eagerness for the new upscale lifestyle that’s waiting for you. Argue with a relative like a nobleman, and be rude to servants. Talk about politics and affairs of state, and act free and independent. The woman who advises you to do this loves you. Remember the woman who complimented you on your yellow stockings, and said she always wanted to see you with crisscrossing laces going up your legs—remember her. Go ahead. A happy new life is there if you want it. If you don’t want it, just keep acting like a lowly servant who’s not brave enough to grab the happiness there before him. Goodbye. Signed, she who would be your servant,

The Fortunate Unhappy.“

This is as clear as sunlight in an open field. I’ll do it. I’ll be vain and proud, I’ll read up on politics, I’ll insult Sir Toby, I’ll get rid of my lower-class friends, and I’ll be the perfect man for her. I know I’m not fooling myself, or letting myself get carried away by my imagination, because every clue points to the fact that Lady Olivia loves me. She did compliment me on my yellow stockings recently, and she said she liked how the crisscross laces looked on my legs. That’s her way of saying she loves me. Oh, I thank my lucky stars, I’m so happy. For her I’ll be strange and condescending, and I’ll put on my yellow stockings and crisscross laces right away. Thank God and my horoscope! Here’s a postscript!.

(reads)

”You must have figured out who I am. If you love me, let me know by smiling at me. You’re so attractive when you smile. Please smile whenever you’re near me, my dearest darling."

Dear God, thank you! I’ll do everything she wants me to do.

I wouldn’t have missed this even for a pension of thousands of pounds, to be paid by the shah of Persia.

I could marry that Maria for thinking this up.

So could I.

And I wouldn’t ask for any dowry except for her to play another trick like this one.

Neither would I.

Here she comes, the brilliant fool-catcher.

May I kiss your feet?

And I too?

Shall I be your slave?

Me too.

You’ve made him so delusional he’ll go crazy when he learns the truth.

Did it really work?

Like medicine for a sick man.

If you want to really have some fun, watch him next time he’s near Lady Olivia. He’ll show up in yellow stockings—she hates yellow—and with laces crisscrossing up his legs—she hates that style of dress—and he’ll smile, which will go completely against her mood, since she’s addicted to sadness now. She’ll definitely get upset with him. If you want to watch, follow me.

I’d follow you to the gates of Hell, you sneaky little devil!

I’ll come too.