Oli. I'll come to him. Good Maria, let this fellow be look'd to.—Call my uncle Toby.
[Exit Fabian.
Let some of my people have a special care of him; I would not have him miscarry for the half of my dowry.
[Exeunt Olivia and Maria.
Mal. Oh, ho! do you come near me now? No worse man than Sir Toby to look to me? She sends him on purpose, that I may appear stubborn to him; for she incites me to that in the letter. I have limed her.—And, when she went away now, Let this fellow be looked to:—Fellow! not Malvolio, nor after my degree, but fellow. Why, every thing adheres together.—Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked.
Sir To. [Without] Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all the devils in hell be drawn in little, and Legion himself possessed him, yet I'll speak to him.
Enter Fabian, Sir Toby, and Maria.
Fab. Here he is, here he is:—How is't with you, sir? how is't with you, man?
Mal. Go off, I discard you; let me enjoy my private; go off.
Mar. Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did not I tell you?—Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a care of him.