O ho, do you come near me now?
No worse man than Sir Toby to look to me! This concurs directly with the letter: she sends him on purpose, that I may appear stubborn to him; for she incites me to that in the letter. “Cast thy humble slough,” says she; “be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants; let thy tongue tang with arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of singularity”; and consequently sets down the manner how: as a sad face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in the habit of some sir of note, and so forth. I have lim’d her, but it is Jove’s doing, and Jove make me thankful! And when she went away now, “Let this fellow be look’d to”; “fellow”! not “Malvolio,” nor after my degree, but “fellow.” Why, every thing adheres together, that no dram of a scruple, no scruple of a scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous or unsafe circumstance—What can be said? Nothing that can be can come between me and the full prospect of my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and he is to be thank’d.