CLOWN.
Apt, in good faith, very apt! Well, go thy way; if Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a piece of Eve’s flesh as any in Illyria.
MARIA.
Peace, you rogue, no more o’ that. Here comes my lady: make your excuse wisely, you were best.
[Exit.]
Enter Olivia with Malvolio.
CLOWN.
Wit, and’t be thy will, put me into good fooling! Those wits that think they have thee, do very oft prove fools; and I that am sure I lack thee, may pass for a wise man. For what says Quinapalus? Better a witty fool than a foolish wit. God bless thee, lady!
OLIVIA.
Take the fool away.
CLOWN.
Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady.
OLIVIA.
Go to, y’are a dry fool; I’ll no more of you. Besides, you grow dishonest.
CLOWN.
Two faults, madonna, that drink and good counsel will amend: for give the dry fool drink, then is the fool not dry; bid the dishonest man mend himself, if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if he cannot, let the botcher mend him. Anything that’s mended is but patched; virtue that transgresses is but patched with sin, and sin that amends is but patched with virtue. If that this simple syllogism will serve, so; if it will not, what remedy? As there is no true cuckold but calamity, so beauty’s a flower. The lady bade take away the fool, therefore, I say again, take her away.
OLIVIA.
Sir, I bade them take away you.