CLOWN.
Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the stave’s end as well as a man in his case may do. Has here writ a letter to you. I should have given it you today morning, but as a madman’s epistles are no gospels, so it skills not much when they are delivered.
OLIVIA.
Open ’t, and read it.
CLOWN.
Look then to be well edified, when the fool delivers the madman. By the Lord, madam,—
OLIVIA.
How now, art thou mad?
CLOWN.
No, madam, I do but read madness: an your ladyship will have it as it ought to be, you must allow vox.
OLIVIA.
Prithee, read i’ thy right wits.
CLOWN.
So I do, madonna. But to read his right wits is to read thus; therefore perpend, my princess, and give ear.
OLIVIA.
[To Fabian.] Read it you, sirrah.
FABIAN.
[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.
OLIVIA.
Did he write this?