DUKE. Give me thy hand, And let me see thee in thy woman’s weeds. VIOLA. The captain that did bring me first on shore Hath my maid’s garments. He, upon some action, Is now in durance, at Malvolio’s suit, A gentleman and follower of my lady’s. OLIVIA. He shall enlarge him. Fetch Malvolio hither. And yet, alas, now I remember me, They say, poor gentleman, he’s much distract. Enter Clown, with a letter and Fabian. A most extracting frenzy of mine own From my remembrance clearly banished his. How does he, sirrah? 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? CLOWN. Ay, madam. DUKE. This savours not much of distraction. OLIVIA. See him delivered, Fabian, bring him hither. [_Exit Fabian._] My lord, so please you, these things further thought on, To think me as well a sister, as a wife, One day shall crown th’ alliance on’t, so please you, Here at my house, and at my proper cost. DUKE. Madam, I am most apt t’ embrace your offer. [_To Viola._] Your master quits you; and for your service done him, So much against the mettle of your sex, So far beneath your soft and tender breeding, And since you call’d me master for so long, Here is my hand; you shall from this time be Your master’s mistress. OLIVIA. A sister? You are she. Enter Fabian and Malvolio. DUKE. Is this the madman? OLIVIA. Ay, my lord, this same. How now, Malvolio? MALVOLIO. Madam, you have done me wrong, Notorious wrong. OLIVIA. Have I, Malvolio? No.