Mal. Good fool, as ever thou wilt deserve well at my
hand, help me to a candle, and pen, ink and paper: as I
am a gentleman, I will live to be thankful to thee for't.
Clo. Master Malvolio?
Mal. Ay, good fool.
Clo. Alas, sir, how fell you [besides] your five wits?
Mal. Fool, there was never man so notoriously abused:
I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art.
Clo. But as well? then [you are] mad indeed, if you be
no better in your wits than a fool.