Clo. No, madam, I do but read madness.
Oli. [To Fabian.] Read it you, sirrah.
Fab. [Reads.] By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and the world shall know it: though you have put me into darkness, and given your drunken cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my senses as well as your ladyship. I have your own letter that induced me to the semblance I put on; with the which I doubt not but to do myself much right, or you much shame. Think of me as you please. I leave my duty a little unthought of, and speak out of my injury. The madly-used Malvolio.
Oli. Did he write this?
Clo. Ay, madam.
Duke. This savours not much of distraction.
Oli. See him deliver'd, Fabian; bring him hither.
[Exit Fabian.
My lord, so please you, these things further thought on,
To think me as well a sister as a wife,
One day shall crown the alliance on't, so please you,
Here at my house.
Duke. Madam, I am most apt to embrace your offer.—
Your master quits you; [To Viola.] and, for your service done him,
Here is my hand; you shall from this time be
Your master's mistress.