Slam Script - Scene Round

​ALL: We are Warren Theatre and WE OWN THIS SPACE!
Title of Scene: ????????
 
Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN
SIR TOBY BELCH
Come thy ways, Signior Fabian.
FABIAN
Nay, I'll come: if I lose a scruple of this sport,
let me be boiled to death with melancholy.
SIR TOBY BELCH
We will
fool him black and blue: shall we not, Sir Andrew?
SIR ANDREW
An we do not, it is pity of our lives.
FABIAN
Malvolio's coming down this walk: I
know this letter will make a contemplative idiot of
him. Close, in the name of jesting! Lie thou there.
Throws down a letter
Enter MALVOLIO
MALVOLIO
'Tis but fortune; all is fortune. Maria once told
me she did affect me: and I have heard herself come
thus near, that, should she fancy, it should be one
of my complexion.
SIR TOBY BELCH
Here's an overweening rogue!
FABIAN
O, peace!
SIR ANDREW
'Slight, I could so beat the rogue!
SIR TOBY BELCH
Peace, I say.
MALVOLIO
To be Count Malvolio!
SIR TOBY BELCH
Ah, rogue!
SIR ANDREW
Pistol him, pistol him.
SIR TOBY BELCH
Peace, peace!
MALVOLIO
Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet
gown; having come from a day-bed, where I have left
Olivia sleeping,--
SIR TOBY BELCH
Fire and brimstone!
FABIAN
O, peace, peace!
MALVOLIO
Toby approaches; courtesies there to me,--
SIR TOBY BELCH
Shall this fellow live?
FABIAN
Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace.
MALVOLIO
I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar
smile with an austere regard of control,--
SIR TOBY BELCH
And does not Toby take you a blow o' the lips then?
MALVOLIO
Saying, 'Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast me on
your niece give me this prerogative of speech,'--
‘you must amend your drunkenness.'
SIR TOBY BELCH
Out, scab!
FABIAN
Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot.
MALVOLIO
'Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with
a foolish knight,'--
SIR ANDREW
That's me, I warrant you.
MALVOLIO
'One Sir Andrew,'--
SIR ANDREW
I knew 'twas I; for many do call me fool.
MALVOLIO
What employment have we here?
Taking up the letter
FABIAN
Now is the woodcock near the gin.
MALVOLIO
By my life, this is my lady's hand these be her
very C's, her U's and her T's and thus makes she her
great P's­.
SIR ANDREW
Her C's, her U's and her T's: why that?
MALVOLIO
[Reads] 'To the unknown beloved, this, and my good
wishes:'--her very phrases! By your leave, wax.
Soft! 'tis my lady. To whom should this be?
FABIAN
This wins him, liver and all.
MALVOLIO
[Reads]
I may command where I adore;
But silence, like a Lucrece knife,
With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore:
M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.
FABIAN
A fustian riddle!
SIR TOBY BELCH
Excellent wench, say I.
MALVOLIO
'M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.' Nay, but first, let
me see, let me see, let me see.
FABIAN
What dish o' poison has she dressed him!
SIR TOBY BELCH
And with what wing the staniel cheques at it!
MALVOLIO
'I may command where I adore.' Why, she may command
me: I serve her; she is my lady. If I could make
that resemble something in me,--Softly! M, O, A, I,--
SIR TOBY BELCH
O, ay, make up that: he is now at a cold scent.
FABIAN
Sowter will cry upon't for all this, though it be as
rank as a fox.
MALVOLIO
M,--Malvolio; M,--why, that begins my name.
FABIAN
Did not I say he would work it out? the cur is
excellent at faults.
MALVOLIO
M,--but then there is no consonancy in the sequel;
that suffers under probation A should follow but O does.
FABIAN
And O shall end, I hope.
SIR TOBY BELCH
Ay, or I'll cudgel him, and make him cry O!
MALVOLIO
And then I comes behind.
FABIAN
Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you might see
more detraction at your heels than fortunes before
you.
MALVOLIO
M, O, A, I; this simulation is not as the former: and
yet, to crush this a little, it would bow to me, for
every one of these letters are in my name. Soft!
here follows prose.
Reads
'If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I
am above thee; but be not afraid of greatness: some
are born great, some achieve greatness, and some
have greatness thrust upon 'em.
Remember who commended thy
yellow stockings, and wished to see thee ever
cross-gartered: I say, remember. Farewell.
She that would alter services with thee,
THE FORTUNATE-UNHAPPY.'
I do not now fool myself, to let imagination jade
me; for every reason excites to this, that my lady
loves me. She did commend my yellow stockings of
late, she did praise my leg being cross-gartered;
and in this she manifests herself to my love, and
with a kind of injunction drives me to these habits
of her liking. I thank my stars I am happy. I will
be strange, stout, in yellow stockings, and
cross-gartered, even with the swiftness of putting
on. Jove and my stars be praised! Here is yet a
postscript.
Reads
'Thou canst not choose but know who I am. If thou
entertainest my love, let it appear in thy smiling;
thy smiles become thee well; therefore in my
presence still smile, dear my sweet, I prithee.'
Jove, I thank thee: I will smile; I will do
everything that thou wilt have me.
Exit
FABIAN
I will not give my part of this sport for a pension
of thousands to be paid from the Sophy.
SIR TOBY BELCH
Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that when
the image of it leaves him he must run mad.
FABIAN
If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark
his first approach before his lady: he will come to
her in yellow stockings, and 'tis a colour she
abhors, and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests;
and he will smile upon her, which will now be so
unsuitable to her disposition, being addicted to a
melancholy as she is, that it cannot but turn him
into a notable contempt. If you will see it, follow
me.
SIR TOBY BELCH
To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit!
SIR ANDREW
I'll make one too.
Exeunt