Mal. I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such a barren rascal; I saw him put down the other day with an ordinary fool, that has no more brain than a stone.—Look you now, he's out of his guard already: unless you laugh and minister occasion to him, he is gagg'd.—I protest, I take these wise men, that crow so at these set kind of fools, no better than the fools' zanies.
Oli. O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste with a distemper'd appetite. To be generous, guiltless, and of free disposition, is to take those things for bird-bolts, that you deem cannon-bullets: There is no slander in an allow'd fool, though he do nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known discreet man, though he do nothing but reprove.
Clo. Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for thou speak'st well of fools!
Mar. Madam, there is at the gate a young gentleman, much desires to speak with you.
Oli. From the Duke Orsino, is it?
Mar. I know not, madam.
Oli. Who of my people hold him in delay?
Mar. Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman.
Oli. Fetch him off, I pray you; he speaks nothing but madman: Fye on him!