Act I

Scene I

The Duke’s palace

Enter Orsino, Duke of Illyria, Curio, and other Lords;
Musicians attending

Twelfth Night, Orsino, Duke of Illyria
by Rhead, Louis, 1857-1926, pen and ink drawing
(accessed through LUNA: Folger Digital Image Collection)

Duke

If music be the food of love, play on,

Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,

The appetite may sicken and so die.

That strain again! It had a dying fall;

O, it came o’er my ear like the sweet sound,

That breathes upon a bank of violets,

Stealing and giving odour! Enough, no more;

‘Tis not so sweet now as it was before.

O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou!

That, notwithstanding thy capacity

Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,

Of what validity and pitch soe’er,

But falls into abatement and low price

Even in a minute. So full of shapes is fancy,

That it alone is high fantastical.

Curio

Will you go hunt, my lord?

Duke

What, Curio?

Curio

The hart.

Duke

Why, so I do, the noblest that I have

O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first,

Methought she purg’d the air of pestilence!

That instant was I turn’d into a hart,

And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,

E’er since pursue me.

Enter Valentine

How now! what news from her?

Valentine

So please my lord, I might not be admitted,

But from her handmaid do return this answer:

The element itself, till seven years’ heat,

Shall not behold her face at ample view;

But like a cloistress she will veiled walk,

And water once a day her chamber round

With eye-offending brine; all this to season

A brother’s dead love, which she would keep fresh

And lasting in her sad remembrance.

Duke

O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame

To pay this debt of love but to a brother,

How will she love when the rich golden shaft

Hath kill’d the flock of all affections else

That live in her; when liver, brain, and heart,

These sovereign thrones, are all supplied and fill’d,

Her sweet perfections, with one self king!

Away before me to sweet beds of flow’rs:

Love-thoughts lie rich when canopied with bow’rs.

Exeunt

Scene II

The sea-coast

Enter Viola, a Captain, and Sailors

Viola

What country, friends, is this?

Captain

This is Illyria, lady.

Viola

And what should I do in Illyria?

My brother he is in Elysium.

Perchance he is not drown’d- what think you, sailors?

Captain

It is perchance that you yourself were saved.

Viola

O my poor brother! and so perchance may he be.

Captain

True, madam, and, to comfort you with chance,

Assure yourself, after our ship did split,

When you, and those poor number saved with you,

Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother,

Most provident in peril, bind himself-

Courage and hope both teaching him the practice-

To a strong mast that liv’d upon the sea;

Where, like Arion on the dolphin’s back,

I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves

So long as I could see.

Viola

For saying so, there’s gold

Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,

Whereto thy speech serves for authority,

The like of him. Know’st thou this country?

Captain

Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and born

Not three hours’ travel from this very place.

Viola

Who governs here?

Captain

A noble duke, in nature as in name.

Viola

What is his name?

Captain

Orsino.

Viola

Orsino! I have heard my father name him

He was a bachelor then.

Captain

And so is now, or was so very late;

For but a month ago I went from hence,

And then ‘twas fresh in murmur- as, you know,

What great ones do the less will prattle of-

That he did seek the love of fair Olivia.

Viola

What’s she?

Captain

A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count

That died some twelvemonth since, then leaving her

In the protection of his son, her brother,

Who shortly also died; for whose dear love,

They say, she hath abjur’d the company

And sight of men.

Viola

O that I serv’d that lady,

And might not be delivered to the world,

Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,

What my estate is!

Captain

That were hard to compass,

Because she will admit no kind of suit-

No, not the Duke’s.

Viola

There is a fair behaviour in thee, Captain;

And though that nature with a beauteous wall

Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee

I will believe thou hast a mind that suits

With this thy fair and outward character

I prithee, and I’ll pay thee bounteously,

Conceal me what I am, and be my aid

For such disguise as haply shall become

The form of my intent. I’ll serve this duke:

Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him;

It may be worth thy pains, for I can sing

And speak to him in many sorts of music,

That will allow me very worth his service

What else may hap to time I will commit;

Only shape thou silence to my wit.

Captain

Be you his eunuch and your mute I’ll be;

When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see.

Viola

I thank thee. Lead me on.

Exeunt

Scene III

Olivia’s house

Enter Sir Toby Belch and Maria

Sir Toby

What a plague means my niece to take the death of her brother thus? I am sure care’s an enemy to life

Maria

By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier o’ nights; your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions to your ill hours

Sir Toby

Why, let her except before excepted

Maria

Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest limits of order

Sir Toby

Confine! I’ll confine myself no finer than I am. These clothes are good enough to drink in, and so be these boots too; an they be not, let them hang themselves in their own straps

Maria

That quaffing and drinking will undo you; I heard my lady talk of it yesterday, and of a foolish knight that you brought in one night here to be her wooer

Sir Toby

Who? Sir Andrew Aguecheek?

Maria

Ay, he

Sir Toby

He’s as tall a man as any’s in Illyria

Maria

What’s that to th’ purpose?

Sir Toby

Why, he has three thousand ducats a year

Maria

Ay, but he’ll have but a year in all these ducats; he’s a very fool and a prodigal

Sir Toby

Fie that you’ll say so! He plays o’ th’ viol-de-gamboys, and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature

Maria

He hath indeed, almost natural; for, besides that he’s a fool, he’s a great quarreller; and but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, ‘tis thought among the prudent he would quickly have the gift of a grave

Sir Toby

By this hand, they are scoundrels and subtractors that say so of him. Who are they?

Maria

They that add, moreover, he’s drunk nightly in your company

Sir Toby

With drinking healths to my niece; I’ll drink to her as long as there is a passage in my throat and drink in Illyria. He’s a coward and a coystrill that will not drink to my niece till his brains turn o’ th’ toe like a parish-top. What, wench! Castiliano vulgo! for here comes Sir Andrew Agueface

Enter Sir Andrew Aguecheek

Aguecheek

Sir Toby Belch! How now, Sir Toby Belch!

Sir Toby

Sweet Sir Andrew!

Aguecheek

Bless you, fair shrew

Maria

And you too, sir

Sir Toby

Accost, Sir Andrew, accost

Aguecheek

What’s that?

Sir Toby

My niece’s chambermaid

Aguecheek

Good Mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance

Maria

My name is Mary, sir

Aguecheek

Good Mistress Mary Accost-

Sir Toby.

You mistake, knight. ‘Accost’ is front her, board her, woo her, assail her

Aguecheek

By my troth, I would not undertake her in this company

Is that the meaning of ‘accost’?

Maria

Fare you well, gentlemen

Sir Toby

An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, would thou mightst never draw sword again!

Aguecheek

An you part so, mistress, I would I might never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think you have fools in hand?

Maria

Sir, I have not you by th’ hand

Aguecheek

Marry, but you shall have; and here’s my hand

Maria

Now, sir, thought is free. I pray you, bring your hand to th’ buttry-bar and let it drink

Aguecheek

Wherefore, sweetheart? What’s your metaphor?

Maria

It’s dry, sir

Aguecheek

Why, I think so; I am not such an ass but I can keep my hand dry. But what’s your jest?

Maria

A dry jest, sir

Aguecheek

Are you full of them?

Maria

Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers’ ends; marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren

Exit Maria

Sir Toby

O knight, thou lack’st a cup of canary! When did I see thee so put down?

Aguecheek

Never in your life, I think; unless you see canary put me down. Methinks sometimes I have no more wit than a Christian or an ordinary man has; but I am great eater of beef, and I believe that does harm to my wit

Sir Toby

No question

Aguecheek

An I thought that, I’d forswear it. I’ll ride home to-morrow, Sir Toby

Sir Toby

Pourquoi, my dear knight?

Aguecheek

What is ‘pourquoi’- do or not do? I would I had bestowed that time in the tongues that I have in fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting. Oh, had I but followed the arts!

Sir Toby

Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair

Aguecheek

Why, would that have mended my hair?

Sir Toby

Past question; for thou seest it will not curl by nature

Aguecheek

But it becomes me well enough, does’t not?

Sir Toby

Excellent; it hangs like flax on a distaff, and I hope to see a huswife take thee between her legs and spin it off

Aguecheek

Faith, I’ll home to-morrow, Sir Toby. Your niece will not be seen, or if she be, it’s four to one she’ll none of me; the Count himself here hard by woos her

Sir Toby

She’ll none o’ th’ Count; she’ll not match above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; I have heard her swear’t. Tut, there’s life in’t, man

Aguecheek

I’ll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o’ th’ strangest mind i’ th’ world; I delight in masques and revels sometimes altogether

Sir Toby

Art thou good at these kickshawses, knight?

Aguecheek

As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be, under the degree of my betters; and yet I will not compare with an old man

Sir Toby

What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight?

Aguecheek

Faith, I can cut a caper

Sir Toby

And I can cut the mutton to’t

Aguecheek

And I think I have the back-trick simply as strong as any man in Illyria

Sir Toby

Wherefore are these things hid? Wherefore have these gifts a curtain before ‘em? Are they like to take dust, like Mistress Mall’s picture? Why dost thou not go to church in a galliard and come home in a coranto? My very walk should be a jig; I would not so much as make water but in a sink-a-pace. What dost thou mean? Is it a world to hide virtues in? I did think, by the excellent constitution of thy leg, it was form’d under the star of a galliard

Aguecheek

Ay, ‘tis strong, and it does indifferent well in flame-colour’d stock. Shall we set about some revels?

Sir Toby

What shall we do else? Were we not born under Taurus?

Aguecheek

Taurus? That’s sides and heart

Sir Toby

No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let me see the caper. Ha, higher! Ha, ha, excellent!

Exeunt

Scene IV

The Duke’s palace

Enter Valentine, and Viola in man’s attire

Twelfth Night, Act I, Scene 4
by H. Thomas Maybank, late 19th century, watercolour drawing
(accessed through LUNA: Folger Digital Image Collection)

Valentine

If the Duke continue these favours towards you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanc’d; he hath known you but three days, and already you are no stranger

Viola

You either fear his humour or my negligence, that you call in question the continuance of his love. Is he inconstant, sir, in his favours?

Valentine

No, believe me.

Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants

Viola

I thank you. Here comes the Count.

Duke

Who saw Cesario, ho?

Viola

On your attendance, my lord, here

Duke

Stand you awhile aloof. Cesario,

Thou know’st no less but all; I have unclasp’d

To thee the book even of my secret soul

Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her;

Be not denied access, stand at her doors,

And tell them there thy fixed foot shall grow

Till thou have audience

Viola

Sure, my noble lord,

If she be so abandon’d to her sorrow

As it is spoke, she never will admit me.

Duke

Be clamorous and leap all civil bounds,

Rather than make unprofited return.

Viola

Say I do speak with her, my lord, what then?

Duke

O, then unfold the passion of my love,

Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith!

It shall become thee well to act my woes:

She will attend it better in thy youth

Than in a nuncio’s of more grave aspect.

Viola

I think not so, my lord.

Duke

Dear lad, believe it,

For they shall yet belie thy happy years

That say thou art a man: Diana’s lip

Is not more smooth and rubious; thy small pipe

Is as the maiden’s organ, shrill and sound,

And all is semblative a woman’s part

I know thy constellation is right apt

For this affair. Some four or five attend him-

All, if you will, for I myself am best

When least in company. Prosper well in this,

And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord

To call his fortunes thine.

Viola

I’ll do my best

To woo your lady.

[Aside] Yet, a barful strife!

Whoe’er I woo, myself would be his wife.

Scene V

Olivia’s house

Enter Maria and Clown

Maria

Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will not open my lips so wide as a bristle may enter in way of thy excuse; my lady will hang thee for thy absence

Clown

Let her hang me. He that is well hang’d in this world needs to fear no colours

Maria

Make that good

Clown

He shall see none to fear

Maria

A good lenten answer. I can tell thee where that saying was born, of ‘I fear no colours.’

Clown

Where, good Mistress Mary?

Maria

In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in your foolery

Clown

Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those that are fools, let them use their talents

Maria

Yet you will be hang’d for being so long absent; or to be turn’d away- is not that as good as a hanging to you?

Clown

Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage; and for turning away, let summer bear it out

Maria

You are resolute, then?

Clown

Not so, neither; but I am resolv’d on two points

Maria

That if one break, the other will hold; or if both break, your gaskins fall

Clown

Apt, in good faith, very apt! Well, go thy way; if Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a piece of Eve’s flesh as any in Illyria

Maria

Peace, you rogue, no more o’ that. Here comes my lady. Make your excuse wisely, you were best

Exit

Enter Olivia and Malvolio

Clown

Wit, an’t be thy will, put me into good fooling! Those wits that think they have thee do very oft prove fools; and I that am sure I lack thee may pass for a wise man. For what says Quinapalus? ‘Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.’ God bless thee, lady!

Olivia

Take the fool away

Clown

Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady

Olivia

Go to, y’are a dry fool; I’ll no more of you. Besides, you grow dishonest

Clown

Two faults, madonna, that drink and good counsel will amend; for give the dry fool drink, then is the fool not dry. Bid the dishonest man mend himself: if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if he cannot, let the botcher mend him. Anything that’s mended is but patch’d; virtue that transgresses is but patch’d with sin, and sin that amends is but patch’d with virtue.If that this simple syllogism will serve, so; if it will not, what remedy? As there is no true cuckold but calamity, so beauty’s a flower. The lady bade take away the fool; therefore, I say again, take her away

Olivia

Sir, I bade them take away you

Clown

Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, ‘Cucullus non facit monachum’; that’s as much to say as I wear not motley in my brain. Good madonna, give me leave to prove you a fool

Olivia

Can you do it?

Clown

Dexteriously, good madonna

Olivia

Make your proof

Clown

I must catechize you for it, madonna

Good my mouse of virtue, answer me

Olivia

Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I’ll bide your proof

Clown

Good madonna, why mourn’st thou?

Olivia

Good fool, for my brother’s death

Clown

I think his soul is in hell, madonna

Olivia

I know his soul is in heaven, fool

Clown

The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your brother’s soul being in heaven. Take away the fool, gentlemen

Olivia

What think you of this fool, Malvolio? Doth he not mend?

Malvolio

Yes, and shall do, till the pangs of death shake him

Infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever make the better fool

Clown

God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will be sworn that I am no fox; but he will not pass his word for twopence that you are no fool

Olivia

How say you to that, Malvolio?

Malvolio

I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such a barren rascal; I saw him put down the other day with an ordinary fool that has no more brain than a stone. Look you now, he’s out of his guard already; unless you laugh and minister occasion to him, he is gagg’d. I protest I take these wise men that crow so at these set kind of fools no better than the fools’ zanies

Olivia

O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste with a distemper’d appetite. To be generous, guiltless, and of free disposition, is to take those things for bird-bolts that you deem cannon bullets. There is no slander in an allow’d fool, though he do nothing but rail; nor no railing in known discreet man, though he do nothing but reprove

Clown

Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for thou speak’st well of fools!

Re-enter Maria

Maria

Madam, there is at the gate a young gentleman much desires to speak with you

Olivia

From the Count Orsino, is it?

Maria

I know not, madam; ‘tis a fair young man, and well attended

Olivia

Who of my people hold him in delay?

Maria

Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman

Olivia

Fetch him off, I pray you; he speaks nothing but madman

Fie on him!

Exit Maria

Go you, Malvolio: if it be a suit from the Count, I am sick, or not at home- what you will to dismiss it.

Exit Malvolio

Now you see, sir, how your fooling grows old, and people dislike it

Clown

Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy eldest son should be a fool; whose skull Jove cram with brains! For- here he comes- one of thy kin has a most weak pia mater

Enter Sir Toby

Olivia

By mine honour, half drunk! What is he at the gate, cousin?

Sir Toby

A gentleman

Olivia

A gentleman! What gentleman?

Sir Toby

‘Tis a gentleman here. [Hiccups] A plague o’ these pickle-herring! How now, sot!

Clown

Good Sir Toby!

Olivia

Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by this lethargy?

Sir Toby

Lechery! I defy lechery. There’s one at the gate

Olivia

Ay, marry; what is he?

Sir Toby

Let him be the devil an he will, I care not; give me faith, say I. Well, it’s all one.

Exit

Olivia

What’s a drunken man like, fool?

Clown

Like a drown’d man, a fool, and a madman: one draught above heat makes him a fool; the second mads him; and a third drowns him

Olivia

Go thou and seek the crowner, and let him sit o’ my coz; for he’s in the third degree of drink, he’s drown’d; go look after him

Clown

He is but mad yet, madonna, and the fool shall look to the madman.

Exit

Re-enter Malvolio

Malvolio

Madam, yond young fellow swears he will speak with you. I told him you were sick; he takes on him to understand so much, and therefore comes to speak with you. I told him you were asleep; he seems to have a foreknowledge of that too, and therefore comes to speak with you. What is to be said to him, lady? He’s fortified against any denial

Olivia

Tell him he shall not speak with me

Malvolio

Has been told so; and he says he’ll stand at your door like a sheriff’s post, and be the supporter to a bench, but he’ll speak with you

Olivia

What kind o’ man is he?

Malvolio

Why, of mankind

Olivia

What manner of man?

Malvolio

Of very ill manner; he’ll speak with you, will you or no

Olivia

Of what personage and years is he?

Malvolio

Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough for a boy; as a squash is before ‘tis a peascod, or a codling when ‘tis almost an apple; ‘tis with him in standing water, between boy and man. He is very well-favour’d, and he speaks very shrewishly; one would think his mother’s milk were scarce out of him

Olivia

Let him approach. Call in my gentlewoman

Malvolio

Gentlewoman, my lady calls.

Exit

Re-enter Maria

Olivia

Give me my veil; come, throw it o’er my face;

We’ll once more hear Orsino’s embassy

Enter Viola

Viola

The honourable lady of the house, which is she?

Olivia

Speak to me; I shall answer for her. Your will?

Viola

Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable beauty- I pray you tell me if this be the lady of the house, for I never saw her. I would be loath to cast away my speech; for, besides that it is excellently well penn’d, I have taken great pains to con it. Good beauties, let me sustain no scorn; I am very comptible, even to the least sinister usage

Olivia

Whence came you, sir?

Viola

I can say little more than I have studied, and that question’s out of my part. Good gentle one, give me modest assurance if you be the lady of the house, that I may proceed in my speech

Olivia

Are you a comedian?

Viola

No, my profound heart; and yet, by the very fangs of malice I swear, I am not that I play. Are you the lady of the house?

Olivia

If I do not usurp myself, I am

Viola

Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp yourself; for what is yours to bestow is not yours to reserve. But this is from my commission. I will on with my speech in your praise, and then show you the heart of my message

Olivia

Come to what is important in’t. I forgive you the praise

Viola

Alas, I took great pains to study it, and ‘tis poetical

Olivia

It is the more like to be feigned; I pray you keep it in. I heard you were saucy at my gates, and allow’d your approach rather to wonder at you than to hear you. If you be not mad, be gone; if you have reason, be brief; ‘tis not that time of moon with me to make one in so skipping dialogue

Maria

Will you hoist sail, sir? Here lies your way

Viola

No, good swabber, I am to hull here a little longer

Some mollification for your giant, sweet lady

Olivia

Tell me your mind

Viola

I am a messenger

Olivia

Sure, you have some hideous matter to deliver, when the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak your office

Viola

It alone concerns your ear. I bring no overture of war, no taxation of homage: I hold the olive in my hand; my words are as full of peace as matter

Olivia

Yet you began rudely. What are you? What would you?

Viola

The rudeness that hath appear’d in me have I learn’d from my entertainment. What I am and what I would are as secret as maidenhead- to your cars, divinity; to any other’s, profanation

Olivia

Give us the place alone; we will hear this divinity

Exeunt Maria and Attendants

Now, sir, what is your text?

Viola

Most sweet lady-

Olivia

A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said of it

Where lies your text?

Viola

In Orsino’s bosom

Olivia

In his bosom! In what chapter of his bosom?

Viola

To answer by the method: in the first of his heart

Olivia

O, I have read it; it is heresy. Have you no more to say?

Viola

Good madam, let me see your face

Olivia

Have you any commission from your lord to negotiate with my face? You are now out of your text; but we will draw the curtain and show you the picture.

[Unveiling] Look you, sir, such a one I was this present. Is’t not well done?

Viola

Excellently done, if God did all

Olivia

‘Tis in grain, sir; ‘twill endure wind and weather

Viola

‘Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white

Nature’s own sweet and cunning hand laid on

Lady, you are the cruell’st she alive,

If you will lead these graces to the grave,

And leave the world no copy

Olivia

O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will give out divers schedules of my beauty. It shall be inventoried, and every particle and utensil labell’d to my will: as- item, two lips indifferent red; item, two grey eyes with lids to them; item, one neck, one chin, and so forth. Were you sent hither to praise me?

Viola

I see you what you are: you are too proud;

But, if you were the devil, you are fair

My lord and master loves you- O, such love

Could be but recompens’d though you were crown’d

The nonpareil of beauty!

Olivia

How does he love me?

Viola

With adorations, fertile tears,

With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire

Olivia

Your lord does know my mind; I cannot love him

Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble,

Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth;

In voices well divulg’d, free, learn’d, and valiant,

And in dimension and the shape of nature

A gracious person; but yet I cannot love him

He might have took his answer long ago

Viola

If I did love you in my master’s flame,

With such a suff’ring, such a deadly life,

In your denial I would find no sense;

I would not understand it

Olivia

Why, what would you?

Viola

Make me a willow cabin at your gate,

And call upon my soul within the house;

Write loyal cantons of contemned love

And sing them loud even in the dead of night;

Halloo your name to the reverberate hals,

And make the babbling gossip of the air

Cry out ‘Olivia!’ O, you should not rest

Between the elements of air and earth

But you should pity me!

Olivia

You might do much

What is your parentage?

Viola

Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:

I am a gentleman

Olivia

Get you to your lord

I cannot love him; let him send no more-

Unless perchance you come to me again

To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well

I thank you for your pains; spend this for me

Viola

I am no fee’d post, lady; keep your purse;

My master, not myself, lacks recompense

Love make his heart of flint that you shall love;

And let your fervour, like my master’s, be

Plac’d in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty.

Exit

Olivia

‘What is your parentage?’

‘Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:

I am a gentleman.’ I’ll be sworn thou art;

Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit,

Do give thee five-fold blazon. Not too fast! Soft, soft!

Unless the master were the man. How now!

Even so quickly may one catch the plague?

Methinks I feel this youth’s perfections

With an invisible and subtle stealth

To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be

What ho, Malvolio!

Re-enter Malvolio

Malvolio

Here, madam, at your service

Olivia

Run after that same peevish messenger,

The County’s man. He left this ring behind him,

Would I or not. Tell him I’ll none of it

Desire him not to flatter with his lord,

Nor hold him up with hopes; I am not for him

If that the youth will come this way to-morrow,

I’ll give him reasons for’t. Hie thee, Malvolio

Malvolio

Madam, I will

Exit

Olivia

I do I know not what, and fear to find

Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind

Fate, show thy force: ourselves we do not owe;

What is decreed must be; and be this so!

Exit

Act II

Scene I

The sea-coast

Enter Antonio and Sebastian

Antonio

Will you stay no longer; nor will you not that I go with you?

Sebastian

By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly over me; the malignancy of my fate might perhaps distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of you your leave that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad recompense for your love to lay any of them on you

Antonio

Let me know of you whither you are bound

Sebastian

No, sooth, sir; my determinate voyage is mere extravagancy. But I perceive in you so excellent a touch of modesty that you will not extort from me what I am willing to keep in; therefore it charges me in manners the rather to express myself. You must know of me then, Antonio, my name is Sebastian, which I call’d Roderigo; my father was that Sebastian of Messaline whom I know you have heard of. He left behind him myself and a sister, both born in an hour; if the heavens had been pleas’d, would we had so ended! But you, sir, alter’d that; for some hour before you took me from the breach of the sea was my sister drown’d

Antonio

Alas the day!

Sebastian

A lady, sir, though it was said she much resembled me, was yet of many accounted beautiful; but though I could not with such estimable wonder overfar believe that, yet thus far I will boldly publish her: she bore mind that envy could not but call fair. She is drown’d already, sir, with salt water, though I seem to drown her remembrance again with more

Antonio

Pardon me, sir, your bad entertainment

Sebastian

O good Antonio, forgive me your trouble

Antonio

If you will not murder me for my love, let me be your servant

Sebastian

If you will not undo what you have done- that is, kill him whom you have recover’d-desire it not. Fare ye well at once; my bosom is full of kindness, and I am yet so near the manners of my mother that, upon the least occasion more, mine eyes will tell tales of me. I am bound to the Count Orsino’s court. Farewell

Exit

Antonio

The gentleness of all the gods go with thee!

I have many cnemies in Orsino’s court,

Else would I very shortly see thee there

But come what may, I do adore thee so

That danger shall seem sport, and I will go

Exit

Scene II

A street

Enter Viola and Malvolio at several doors

Malvolio

Were you not ev’n now with the Countess Olivia?

Viola

Even now, sir; on a moderate pace I have since arriv’d but hither

Malvolio

She returns this ring to you, sir; you might have saved me my pains, to have taken it away yourself. She adds, moreover, that you should put your lord into a desperate assurance she will none of him. And one thing more: that you be never so hardy to come again in his affairs, unless it be to report your lord’s taking of this. Receive it so

Viola

She took the ring of me; I’ll none of it

Malvolio

Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her; and her will is it should be so return’d. If it be worth stooping for, there it lies in your eye; if not, be it his that finds it

Exit

Viola

I left no ring with her; what means this lady?

Fortune forbid my outside have not charm’d her!

She made good view of me; indeed, so much

That methought her eyes had lost her tongue,

For she did speak in starts distractedly

She loves me, sure: the cunning of her passion

Invites me in this churlish messenger

None of my lord’s ring! Why, he sent her none

I am the man. If it be so- as ‘tis-

Poor lady, she were better love a dream

Disguise, I see thou art a wickedness

Wherein the pregnant enemy does much

How easy is it for the proper-false

In women’s waxen hearts to set their forms!

Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we!

For such as we are made of, such we be

How will this fadge? My master loves her dearly,

And I, poor monster, fond as much on him;

And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me

What will become of this? As I am man,

My state is desperate for my master’s love;

As I am woman- now alas the day!-

What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe!

O Time, thou must untangle this, not I;

It is too hard a knot for me t’ untie!

Exit

Scene III

Olivia’s house

Enter Sir Toby and Sir Andrew

Sir Toby

Approach, Sir Andrew. Not to be abed after midnight is to be up betimes; and ‘diluculo surgere’ thou know’st-

Aguecheek

Nay, by my troth, I know not; but I know to be up late is to be up late.

Sir Toby

A false conclusion! I hate it as an unfill’d can. To be up after midnight and to go to bed then is early; so that to go to bed after midnight is to go to bed betimes. Does not our lives consist of the four elements?

Aguecheek

Faith, so they say; but I think it rather consists of eating and drinking.

Sir Toby

Th’art a scholar; let us therefore eat and drink

Marian, I say! a stoup of wine.

Enter Clown

Aguecheek

Here comes the fool, i’ faith.

Clown

How now, my hearts! Did you never see the picture of ‘we three’?

Sir Toby

Welcome, ass. Now let’s have a catch.

Aguecheek

By my troth, the fool has an excellent breast. I had rather than forty shillings I had such a leg, and so sweet a breath to sing, as the fool has. In sooth, thou wast in very gracious fooling last night, when thou spok’st of Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians passing the equinoctial of Queubus; ‘twas very good, i’ faith. I sent thee sixpence for thy leman; hadst it?

Clown

I did impeticos thy gratillity; for Malvolio’s nose is no whipstock. My lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses

Aguecheek

Excellent! Why, this is the best fooling, when all is done. Now, a song

Sir Toby

Come on, there is sixpence for you. Let’s have a song

Aguecheek

There’s a testril of me too; if one knight give a-

Clown.

Would you have a love-song, or a song of good life?

Sir Toby

A love-song, a love-song

Aguecheek

Ay, ay; I care not for good life

Clown sings

O mistress mine, where are you roaming?

O, stay and hear; your true love’s coming,

That can sing both high and low

Trip no further, pretty sweeting;

Journeys end in lovers meeting,

Every wise man’s son doth know

Aguecheek

Excellent good, i’ faith!

Sir Toby

Good, good!

Clown sings

What is love? ‘Tis not hereafter;

Present mirth hath present laughter;

What’s to come is still unsure

In delay there lies no plenty,

Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty;

Youth’s a stuff will not endure

Aguecheek

A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight

Sir Toby

A contagious breath

Aguecheek

Very sweet and contagious, i’ faith

Sir Toby

To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in contagion. But shall we make the welkin dance indeed? Shall we rouse the night-owl in a catch that will draw three souls out of one weaver? Shall we do that?

Aguecheek

An you love me, let’s do’t. I am dog at a catch

Clown

By’r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well

Aguecheek

Most certain. Let our catch be ‘Thou knave.’

Clown

‘Hold thy peace, thou knave’ knight? I shall be constrain’d in’t to call thee knave, knight

Aguecheek

‘Tis not the first time I have constrained one to call me knave. Begin, fool: it begins ‘Hold thy peace.’

Clown

I shall never begin if I hold my peace

Aguecheek

Good, i’ faith! Come, begin. [Catch sung]

Enter Maria

Maria

What a caterwauling do you keep here! If my lady have not call’d up her steward Malvolio, and bid him turn you out of doors, never trust me

Sir Toby

My lady’s a Cataian, we are politicians, Malvolio’s a

Peg-a-Ramsey, and

Three merry men be we

Am not I consanguineous? Am I not of her blood? Tilly-vally, lady.[Sings] There dwelt a man in Babylon,

Lady, lady

Clown

Beshrew me, the knight’s in admirable fooling

Aguecheek

Ay, he does well enough if he be dispos’d, and so do I too; he does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural

Sir Toby

[Sings] O’ the twelfth day of December-

Maria

For the love o’ God, peace!

Enter Malvolio

Malvolio

My masters, are you mad? Or what are you? Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty, but to gabble like tinkers at this time of night? Do ye make an ale-house of my lady’s house, that ye squeak out your coziers’ catches without any mitigation or remorse of voice? Is there no respect of place, persons, nor time, in you?

Sir Toby

We did keep time, sir, in our catches. Sneck up!

Malvolio

Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My lady bade me tell you that, though she harbours you as her kins-man, she’s nothing allied to your disorders. If you can separate yourself and your misdemeanours, you are welcome to the house; if not, and it would please you to take leave of her, she is very willing to bid you farewell

Sir Toby

[Sings] Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be gone

Maria

Nay, good Sir Toby

Clown

[Sings] His eyes do show his days are almost done

Malvolio

Is’t even so?

Sir Toby

[Sings] But I will never die. [Falls down]

Clown

[Sings] Sir Toby, there you lie

Malvolio

This is much credit to you

Sir Toby

[Sings] Shall I bid him go?

Clown

[Sings] What an if you do?

Sir Toby

[Sings] Shall I bid him go, and spare not?

Clown

[Sings] O, no, no, no, no, you dare not

Sir Toby

[Rising] Out o’ tune, sir! Ye lie. Art any more than a steward? Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?

Clown

Yes, by Saint Anne; and ginger shall be hot i’ th’ mouth too

Sir Toby

Th’ art i’ th’ right. Go, sir, rub your chain with crumbs. A stoup of wine, Maria!

Malvolio

Mistress Mary, if you priz’d my lady’s favour at anything more than contempt, you would not give means for this uncivil rule; she shall know of it, by this hand

Exit

Maria

Go shake your ears

Aguecheek

‘Twere as good a deed as to drink when a man’s ahungry, to challenge him the field, and then to break promise with him and make a fool of him

Sir Toby

Do’t, knight. I’ll write thee a challenge; or I’ll deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth

Maria

Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for to-night; since the youth of the Count’s was to-day with my lady, she is much out of quiet. For Monsieur Malvolio, let me alone with him; if I do not gull him into a nayword, and make him a common recreation, do not think I have wit enough to lie straight in my bed. I know I can do it

Sir Toby

Possess us, possess us; tell us something of him

Maria

Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of Puritan

Aguecheek

O, if I thought that, I’d beat him like a dog

Sir Toby

What, for being a Puritan? Thy exquisite reason, dear knight?

Aguecheek

I have no exquisite reason for’t, but I have reason good enough

Maria

The devil a Puritan that he is, or anything constantly but a time-pleaser; an affection’d ass that cons state without book and utters it by great swarths; the best persuaded of himself, so cramm’d, as he thinks, with excellencies that it is his grounds of faith that all that look on him love him; and on that vice in him will my revenge find notable cause to work

Sir Toby

What wilt thou do?

Maria

I will drop in his way some obscure epistles of love; wherein, by the colour of his beard, the shape of his leg, the manner of his gait, the expressure of his eye, forehead, and complexion, he shall find himself most feelingly personated. I can write very like my lady, your niece; on forgotten matter we can hardly make distinction of our hands

Sir Toby

Excellent! I smell a device

Aguecheek

I have’t in my nose too

Sir Toby

He shall think, by the letters that thou wilt drop, that they come from my niece, and that she’s in love with him

Maria

My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour

Aguecheek

And your horse now would make him an ass

Maria

Ass, I doubt not

Aguecheek

O, ‘twill be admirable!

Maria

Sport royal, I warrant you. I know my physic will work with him. I will plant you two, and let the fool make a third, where he shall find the letter; observe his construction of it. For this night, to bed, and dream on the event. Farewell

Exit

Sir Toby

Good night, Penthesilea

Aguecheek

Before me, she’s a good wench

Sir Toby

She’s a beagle true-bred, and one that adores me. What o’ that?

Aguecheek

I was ador’d once too

Sir Toby

Let’s to bed, knight. Thou hadst need send for more money

Aguecheek

If I cannot recover your niece, I am a foul way out

Sir Toby

Send for money, knight; if thou hast her not i’ th’ end, call me Cut

Aguecheek

If I do not, never trust me; take it how you will

Sir Toby

Come, come, I’ll go burn some sack; ‘tis too late to go to bed now. Come, knight; come, knight

Exeunt

Scene IV

The Duke’s palace

Enter Duke, Viola, Curio, and Others

Duke

Give me some music. Now, good morrow, friends

Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song,

That old and antique song we heard last night;

Methought it did relieve my passion much,

More than light airs and recollected terms

Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times

Come, but one verse

Curio

He is not here, so please your lordship, that should sing it

Duke

Who was it?

Curio

Feste, the jester, my lord; a fool that the Lady Olivia’s father took much delight in. He is about the house

Duke

Seek him out, and play the tune the while

Exit Curio. [Music plays]

Come hither, boy. If ever thou shalt love,

In the sweet pangs of it remember me;

For such as I am all true lovers are,

Unstaid and skittish in all motions else

Save in the constant image of the creature

That is belov’d. How dost thou like this tune?

Viola

It gives a very echo to the seat

Where Love is thron’d

Duke

Thou dost speak masterly

My life upon’t, young though thou art, thine eye

Hath stay’d upon some favour that it loves;

Hath it not, boy?

Viola

A little, by your favour

Duke

What kind of woman is’t?

Viola

Of your complexion

Duke

She is not worth thee, then. What years, i’ faith?

Viola

About your years, my lord

Duke

Too old, by heaven! Let still the woman take

An elder than herself; so wears she to him,

So sways she level in her husband’s heart

For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,

Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,

More longing, wavering, sooner lost and won,

Than women’s are

Viola

I think it well, my lord

Duke

Then let thy love be younger than thyself,

Or thy affection cannot hold the bent;

For women are as roses, whose fair flow’r

Being once display’d doth fall that very hour

Viola

And so they are; alas, that they are so!

To die, even when they to perfection grow!

Re-enter Curio and Clown

Duke

O, fellow, come, the song we had last night

Mark it, Cesario; it is old and plain;

The spinsters and the knitters in the sun,

And the free maids that weave their thread with bones,

Do use to chant it; it is silly sooth,

And dallies with the innocence of love,

Like the old age

Clown

Are you ready, sir?

Duke

Ay; prithee, sing. [Music]

Clown

Feste’s Song

Come away, come away, death;

And in sad cypress let me be laid;

Fly away, fly away, breath,

I am slain by a fair cruel maid

My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,

O, prepare it!

My part of death no one so true

Did share it

Not a flower, not a flower sweet,

On my black coffin let there be strown;

Not a friend, not a friend greet

My poor corpse where my bones shall be thrown;

A thousand thousand to save,

Lay me, O, where

Sad true lover never find my grave,

To weep there!

Duke

There’s for thy pains

Clown

No pains, sir; I take pleasure in singing, sir

Duke

I’ll pay thy pleasure, then.

Clown

Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid one time or another.

Duke

Give me now leave to leave thee.

Clown

Now the melancholy god protect thee; and the tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffeta, for thy mind is a very opal. I would have men of such constancy put to sea, that their business might be everything, and their intent everywhere: for that’s it that always makes a good voyage of nothing. Farewell

Exit Clown

Duke

Let all the rest give place.

Exeunt Curio and Attendants

Once more, Cesario,

Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty

Tell her my love, more noble than the world,

Prizes not quantity of dirty lands;

The parts that fortune hath bestow’d upon her,

Tell her I hold as giddily as Fortune;

But ‘tis that miracle and queen of gems

That Nature pranks her in attracts my soul.

Viola

But if she cannot love you, sir?

Duke

I cannot be so answer’d

Viola

Sooth, but you must

Say that some lady, as perhaps there is,

Hath for your love as great a pang of heart

As you have for Olivia. You cannot love her;

You tell her so. Must she not then be answer’d?

Duke

There is no woman’s sides

Can bide the beating of so strong a passion

As love doth give my heart; no woman’s heart

So big to hold so much; they lack retention

Alas, their love may be call’d appetite-

No motion of the liver, but the palate-

That suffer surfeit, cloyment, and revolt;

But mine is all as hungry as the sea,

And can digest as much. Make no compare

Between that love a woman can bear me

And that I owe Olivia

Viola

Ay, but I know-

Duke

What dost thou know?

Viola

Too well what love women to men may owe

In faith, they are as true of heart as we

My father had a daughter lov’d a man,

As it might be perhaps, were I a woman,

I should your lordship

Duke

And what’s her history?

Viola

A blank, my lord. She never told her love,

But let concealment, like a worm i’ th’ bud,

Feed on her damask cheek. She pin’d in thought;

And with a green and yellow melancholy

She sat like Patience on a monument,

Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?

We men may say more, swear more, but indeed

Our shows are more than will; for still we prove

Much in our vows, but little in our love

Duke

But died thy sister of her love, my boy?

Viola

I am all the daughters of my father’s house,

And all the brothers too- and yet I know not

Sir, shall I to this lady?

Duke

Ay, that’s the theme

To her in haste. Give her this jewel; say

My love can give no place, bide no denay.

Exeunt

Scene V

Olivia’s garden

Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian

Sir Toby

Come thy ways, Signior Fabian

Fabian

Nay, I’ll come; if I lose a scruple of this sport let me be boil’d to death with melancholy

Sir Toby

Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly rascally sheep-biter come by some notable shame?

Fabian

I would exult, man; you know he brought me out o’ favour with my lady about a bear-baiting here

Sir Toby

To anger him we’ll have the bear again; and we will fool him black and blue- shall we not, Sir Andrew?

Aguecheek

And we do not, it is pity of our lives

Enter Maria

Sir Toby

Here comes the little villain

How now, my metal of India!

Maria

Get ye all three into the box-tree. Malvolio’s coming down this walk. He has been yonder i’ the sun practising behaviour to his own shadow this half hour. Observe him, for the love of mockery, for I know this letter will make a contemplative idiot of him. Close, in the name of jesting! [As the men hide she drops a letter] Lie thou there; for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling

Exit

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. Besides, she uses me with a more exalted respect than any one else that follows her. What should I think on’t?

Sir Toby

Here’s an overweening rogue!

Fabian

O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him; how he jets under his advanc’d plumes!

Aguecheek

‘Slight, I could so beat the rogue-

Sir Toby

Peace, I say

Malvolio

To be Count Malvolio!

Sir Toby

Ah, rogue!

Aguecheek

Pistol him, pistol him

Sir Toby

Peace, peace!

Malvolio

There is example for’t: the Lady of the Strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe

Aguecheek

Fie on him, Jezebel!

Fabian

O, peace! Now he’s deeply in; look how imagination blows him

Malvolio

Having been three months married to her, sitting in my state-

Sir Toby

O, for a stone-bow to hit him in the eye!

Malvolio

Calling my officers about me, in my branch’d velvet gown, having come from a day-bed- where I have left Olivia sleeping-

Sir Toby

Fire and brimstone!

Fabian

O, peace, peace!

Malvolio

And then to have the humour of state; and after a demure travel of regard, telling them I know my place as I would they should do theirs, to ask for my kinsman Toby-

Sir Toby

Bolts and shackles!

Fabian

O, peace, peace, peace! Now, now

Malvolio

Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for him. I frown the while, and perchance wind up my watch, or play with my- some rich jewel. Toby approaches; curtsies there to me-

Sir Toby

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

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’-

Sir Toby

What, what?

Malvolio

‘You must amend your drunkenness’-

Sir Toby

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’-

Aguecheek

That’s me, I warrant you

Malvolio

‘One Sir Andrew.’

Aguecheek

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

Sir Toby

O, peace! And the spirit of humours intimate reading aloud to him!

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. It is, in contempt of question, her hand

Aguecheek

Her C’s, her U’s, and her T’s. Why that?

Malvolio

[Reads]

‘To the unknown belov’d, this, and my good wishes.’ Her very phrases! By your leave, wax. Soft! And the impressure her Lucrece with which she uses to seal; ‘tis my lady. To whom should this be?

Fabian

This wins him, liver and all

Malvolio

[Reads]

Jove knows I love,

But who?

Lips, do not move;

No man must know.’

‘No man must know.’ What follows? The numbers alter’d!

‘No man must know.’ If this should be thee, Malvolio?

Sir Toby

Marry, hang thee, brock!

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

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 dress’d him!

Sir Toby

And with what wing the staniel checks at it!

Malvolio

‘I may command where I adore.’ Why, she may command me: I serve her; she is my lady. Why, this is evident to any formal capacity; there is no obstruction in this. And the end- what should that alphabetical position portend? If I could make that resemble something in me. Softly! M. O. A. I.-

Sir Toby

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

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. Thy Fates open their hands; let thy blood and spirit embrace them; and, to inure thyself to what thou art like to be, cast thy humble slough and appear fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants; let thy tongue tang arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of singularity. She thus advises thee that sighs for thee. Remember who commended thy yellow stockings, and wish’d to see thee ever cross-garter’d. I say, remember, Go to, thou art made, if thou desir’st to be so; if not, let me see thee a steward still, the fellow of servants, and not worthy to touch Fortune’s fingers. Farewell. She that would alter services with thee,

The Fortunate-Unhappy.’

Daylight and champain discovers not more. This is open. I will be proud, I will read politic authors, I will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off gross acquaintance, I will be point-devise the very man. 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-garter’d; 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-garter’d, 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 entertain’st 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

I could marry this wench for this device

Aguecheek

So could I too

Sir Toby

And ask no other dowry with her but such another jest

Enter Maria

Aguecheek

Nor I neither

Fabian

Here comes my noble gull-catcher

Sir Toby

Wilt thou set thy foot o’ my neck?

Aguecheek

Or o’ mine either?

Sir Toby

Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and become thy bond-slave?

Aguecheek

I’ faith, or I either?

Sir Toby

Why, thou hast put him in such a dream that when the image of it leaves him he must run mad

Maria

Nay, but say true; does it work upon him?

Sir Toby

Like aqua-vita! with a midwife

Aiaria

If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark his first approach before my lady. He will come to her in yellow stockings, and ‘tis a colour she abhors, and cross-garter’d, 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

To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit!

Aguecheek

I’ll make one too.

Exeunt

Act III

Scene I

Olivia’s garden

Enter Viola, and Clown with a tabor

Viola

Save thee, friend, and thy music!

Dost thou live by thy tabor?

Clown

No, sir, I live by the church

Viola

Art thou a churchman?

Clown

No such matter, sir: I do live by the church; for I do live at my house, and my house doth stand by the church

Viola

So thou mayst say the king lies by a beggar, if a beggar dwell near him; or the church stands by thy tabor, if thy tabor stand by the church

Clown

You have said, sir. To see this age! A sentence is but a chev’ril glove to a good wit. How quickly the wrong side may be turn’d outward!

Viola

Nay, that’s certain; they that dally nicely with words may quickly make them wanton

Clown

I would, therefore, my sister had had name, sir

Viola

Why, man?

Clown

Why, sir, her name’s a word; and to dally with that word might make my sister wanton. But indeed words are very rascals since bonds disgrac’d them

Viola

Thy reason, man?

Clown

Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words, and words are grown so false I am loath to prove reason with them

Viola

I warrant thou art a merry fellow and car’st for nothing

Clown

Not so, sir; I do care for something; but in my conscience, sir, I do not care for you. If that be to care for nothing, sir, I would it would make you invisible

Viola

Art not thou the Lady Olivia’s fool?

Clown

No, indeed, sir; the Lady Olivia has no folly; she will keep no fool, sir, till she be married; and fools are as like husbands as pilchers are to herrings- the husband’s the bigger. I am indeed not her fool, but her corrupter of words

Viola

I saw thee late at the Count Orsino’s

Clown

Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun- it shines everywhere. I would be sorry, sir, but the fool should be as oft with your master as with my mistress: think I saw your wisdom there

Viola

Nay, an thou pass upon me, I’ll no more with thee

Hold, there’s expenses for thee. [Giving a coin]

Clown

Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send the a beard!

Viola

By my troth, I’ll tell thee, I am almost sick for one; [Aside] though I would not have it grow on my chin.- Is thy lady within?

Clown

Would not a pair of these have bred, sir?

Viola

Yes, being kept together and put to use

Clown

I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia, sir, to bring a

Cressida to this Troilus

Viola

I understand you, sir; ‘tis well begg’d

[Giving another coin]

Clown

The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, begging but a beggar: Cressida was a beggar. My lady is within, sir. I will construe to them whence you come; who you are and what you would are out of my welkin- I might say ‘element’ but the word is overworn

Exit Clown

Viola

This fellow is wise enough to play the fool;

And to do that well craves a kind of wit

He must observe their mood on whom he jests,

The quality of persons, and the time;

And, like the haggard, check at every feather

That comes before his eye. This is a practice

As full of labour as a wise man’s art;

For folly that he wisely shows is fit;

But wise men, folly-fall’n, quite taint their wit

Enter Sir Toby and Sir Andrew

Sir Toby

Save you, gentleman!

Viola

And you, sir

Aguecheek

Dieu vous garde, monsieur

Viola

Et vous aussi; votre serviteur

Aguecheek

I hope, sir, you are; and I am yours

Sir Toby

Will you encounter the house? My niece is desirous you should enter, if your trade be to her

Viola

I am bound to your niece, sir; I mean, she is the list of my voyage

Sir Toby

Taste your legs, sir; put them to motion

Viola

My legs do better understand me, sir, than I understand what you mean by bidding me taste my legs

Sir Toby

I mean, to go, sir, to enter

Viola

I will answer you with gait and entrance. But we are prevented

Enter Olivia and Maria

Most excellent accomplish’d lady, the heavens rain odours on you!

Aguecheek

That youth’s a rare courtier- ‘Rain odours’ well!

Viola

My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your own most pregnant and vouchsafed car

Aguecheek

‘Odours,’ ‘pregnant,’ and ‘vouchsafed’- I’ll get ‘em all three all ready

Olivia

Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing

Exeunt all but Olivia and Viola

Give me your hand, sir

Viola

My duty, madam, and most humble service

Olivia

What is your name?

Viola

Cesario is your servant’s name, fair Princess

Olivia

My servant, sir! ‘Twas never merry world

Since lowly feigning was call’d compliment

Y’are servant to the Count Orsino, youth

Viola

And he is yours, and his must needs be yours:

Your servant’s servant is your servant, madam

Olivia

For him, I think not on him; for his thoughts,

Would they were blanks rather than fill’d with me!

Viola

Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts

On his behalf

Olivia

O, by your leave, I pray you:

I bade you never speak again of him;

But, would you undertake another suit,

I had rather hear you to solicit that

Than music from the spheres

Viola

Dear lady-

Olivia

Give me leave, beseech you. I did send,

After the last enchantment you did here,

A ring in chase of you; so did I abuse

Myself, my servant, and, I fear me, you

Under your hard construction must I sit,

To force that on you in a shameful cunning

Which you knew none of yours. What might you think?

Have you not set mine honour at the stake,

And baited it with all th’ unmuzzled thoughts

That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiving

Enough is shown: a cypress, not a bosom,

Hides my heart. So, let me hear you speak

Viola

I pity you

Olivia

That’s a degree to love

Viola

No, not a grize; for ‘tis a vulgar proof

That very oft we pity enemies

Olivia

Why, then, methinks ‘tis time to smile again

O world, how apt the poor are to be proud!

If one should be a prey, how much the better

To fall before the lion than the wolf! [Clock strikes]

The clock upbraids me with the waste of time

Be not afraid, good youth; I will not have you;

And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest,

Your wife is like to reap a proper man

There lies your way, due west

Viola

Then westward-ho!

Grace and good disposition attend your ladyship!

You’ll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?

Olivia

Stay

I prithee tell me what thou think’st of me

Viola

That you do think you are not what you are

Olivia

If I think so, I think the same of you

Viola

Then think you right: I am not what I am

Olivia

I would you were as I would have you be!

Viola

Would it be better, madam, than I am?

I wish it might, for now I am your fool

Olivia

O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful

In the contempt and anger of his lip!

A murd’rous guilt shows not itself more soon

Than love that would seem hid: love’s night is noon

Cesario, by the roses of the spring,

By maidhood, honour, truth, and every thing,

I love thee so that, maugre all thy pride,

Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide

Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,

For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause;

But rather reason thus with reason fetter:

Love sought is good, but given unsought is better

Viola

By innocence I swear, and by my youth,

I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth,

And that no woman has; nor never none

Shall mistress be of it, save I alone

And so adieu, good madam; never more

Will I my master’s tears to you deplore

Olivia

Yet come again; for thou perhaps mayst move

That heart which now abhors to like his love.

Exeunt

Scene II

Olivia’s house

Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew and Fabian

Aguecheek

No, faith, I’ll not stay a jot longer

Sir Toby

Thy reason, dear venom, give thy reason

Fabian

You must needs yield your reason, Sir Andrew

Aguecheek

Marry, I saw your niece do more favours to the Count’s servingman than ever she bestow’d upon me; I saw’t i’ th’ orchard

Sir Toby

Did she see thee the while, old boy? Tell me that

Aguecheek

As plain as I see you now

Fabian

This was a great argument of love in her toward you

Aguecheek

‘Slight! will you make an ass o’ me?

Fabian

I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of judgment and reason

Sir Toby

And they have been grand-jurymen since before Noah was a sailor

Fabian

She did show favour to the youth in your sight only to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse valour, to put fire in your heart and brimstone in your liver. You should then have accosted her; and with some excellent jests, fire-new from the mint, you should have bang’d the youth into dumbness. This was look’d for at your hand, and this was baulk’d. The double gilt of this opportunity you let time wash off, and you are now sail’d into the north of my lady’s opinion; where you will hang like an icicle on Dutchman’s beard, unless you do redeem it by some laudable attempt either of valour or policy

Aguecheek

An’t be any way, it must be with valour, for policy I hate; I had as lief be a Brownist as a politician

Sir Toby

Why, then, build me thy fortunes upon the basis of valour. Challenge me the Count’s youth to fight with him; hurt him in eleven places. My niece shall take note of it; and assure thyself there is no love-broker in the world can more prevail in man’s commendation with woman than report of valour

Fabian

There is no way but this, Sir Andrew

Aguecheek

Will either of you bear me a challenge to him?

Sir Toby

Go, write it in a martial hand; be curst and brief; it is no matter how witty, so it be eloquent and full of invention

Taunt him with the license of ink; if thou thou’st him some thrice, it shall not be amiss; and as many lies as will lie in thy sheet of paper, although the sheet were big enough for the bed of Ware in England, set ‘em down; go about it. Let there be gall enough in thy ink, though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter. About it

Aguecheek

Where shall I find you?

Sir Toby

We’ll call thee at the cubiculo. Go

Exit Sir Andrew

Fabian

This is a dear manakin to you, Sir Toby

Sir Toby

I have been dear to him, lad- some two thousand strong, or so

Fabian

We shall have a rare letter from him; but you’ll not deliver’t?

Sir Toby

Never trust me then; and by all means stir on the youth to an answer. I think oxen and wainropes cannot hale them together. For Andrew, if he were open’d and you find so much blood in his liver as will clog the foot of a flea, I’ll eat the rest of th’ anatomy

Fabian

And his opposite, the youth, bears in his visage no great presage of cruelty

Enter Maria

Sir Toby

Look where the youngest wren of nine comes

Maria

If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourselves into stitches, follow me. Yond gull Malvolio is turned heathen, a very renegado; for there is no Christian that means to be saved by believing rightly can ever believe such impossible passages of grossness. He’s in yellow stockings

Sir Toby

And cross-garter’d?

Maria

Most villainously; like a pedant that keeps a school i’ th’ church. I have dogg’d him like his murderer. He does obey every point of the letter that I dropp’d to betray him. He does smile his face into more lines than is in the new map with the augmentation of the Indies. You have not seen such a thing as ‘tis; Ican hardly forbear hurling things at him. I know my lady will strike him; if she do, he’ll smile and take’t for a great favour

Sir Toby

Come, bring us, bring us where he is.

Exeunt

Scene III

A street

Enter Sebastian and Antonio

Sebastian

I would not by my will have troubled you;

But since you make your pleasure of your pains,

I will no further chide you

Antonio

I could not stay behind you: my desire,

More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth;

And not all love to see you- though so much

As might have drawn one to a longer voyage-

But jealousy what might befall your travel,

Being skilless in these parts; which to a stranger,

Unguided and unfriended, often prove

Rough and unhospitable. My willing love,

The rather by these arguments of fear,

Set forth in your pursuit

Sebastian

My kind Antonio,

I can no other answer make but thanks,

And thanks, and ever thanks; and oft good turns

Are shuffl’d off with such uncurrent pay;

But were my worth as is my conscience firm,

You should find better dealing. What’s to do?

Shall we go see the reliques of this town?

Antonio

To-morrow, sir; best first go see your lodging

Sebastian

I am not weary, and ‘tis long to night;

I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes

With the memorials and the things of fame

That do renown this city

Antonio

Would you’d pardon me

I do not without danger walk these streets:

Once in a sea-fight ‘gainst the Count his galleys

I did some service; of such note, indeed,

That, were I ta’en here, it would scarce be answer’d

Sebastian

Belike you slew great number of his people

Antonio

Th’ offence is not of such a bloody nature;

Albeit the quality of the time and quarrel

Might well have given us bloody argument

It might have since been answer’d in repaying

What we took from them; which, for traffic’s sake,

Most of our city did. Only myself stood out;

For which, if I be lapsed in this place,

I shall pay dear

Sebastian

Do not then walk too open

Antonio

It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here’s my purse;

In the south suburbs, at the Elephant,

Is best to lodge. I will bespeak our diet,

Whiles you beguile the time and feed your knowledge

With viewing of the town; there shall you have me

Sebastian

Why I your purse?

Antonio

Haply your eye shall light upon some toy

You have desire to purchase; and your store,

I think, is not for idle markets, sir

Sebastian

I’ll be your purse-bearer, and leave you for

An hour

Antonio

To th’ Elephant

Sebastian

I do remember.

Exeunt

Scene IV

Olivia’s garden

Enter Olivia and Maria

Twelfth Night, Act III, Scene 4
by Thomas Stothard, 1755-1834, watercolour drawing
(accessed through LUNA: Folger Digital Image Collection)

Olivia

I have sent after him; he says he’ll come

How shall I feast him? What bestow of him?

For youth is bought more oft than begg’d or borrow’d

I speak too loud

Where’s Malvolio? He is sad and civil,

And suits well for a servant with my fortunes

Where is Malvolio?

Maria

He’s coming, madam; but in very strange manner

He is sure possess’d, madam

Olivia

Why, what’s the matter? Does he rave?

Maria

No, madam, he does nothing but smile. Your ladyship were best to have some guard about you if he come; for sure the man is tainted in’s wits

Olivia

Go call him hither.

Exit Maria

I am as mad as he,

If sad and merry madness equal be

Re-enter Maria with Malvolio

How now, Malvolio!

Malvolio

Sweet lady, ho, ho

Olivia

Smil’st thou?

I sent for thee upon a sad occasion

Malvolio

Sad, lady? I could be sad. This does make some obstruction in the blood, this cross-gartering; but what of that? If it please the eye of one, it is with me as the very true sonnet is: ‘Please one and please all.’

Olivia

Why, how dost thou, man? What is the matter with thee?

Malvolio

Not black in my mind, though yellow in my legs

It did come to his hands, and commands shall be executed. I think we do know the sweet Roman hand

Olivia

Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio?

Malvolio

To bed? Ay, sweetheart, and I’ll come to thee

Olivia

God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so, and kiss thy hand so oft?

Maria

How do you, Malvolio?

Malvolio

At your request? Yes, nightingales answer daws!

Maria

Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady?

Malvolio

‘Be not afraid of greatness.’ ‘Twas well writ

Olivia

What mean’st thou by that, Malvolio?

Aialvolio

‘Some are born great,’-

Olivia

Ha?

Malvolio

‘Some achieve greatness,’-

Olivia

What say’st thou?

Malvolio

‘And some have greatness thrust upon them.’

Olivia

Heaven restore thee!

Malvolio

‘Remember who commended thy yellow stockings,’-

Olivia

‘Thy yellow stockings?’

Malvolio

‘And wish’d to see thee cross-garterd.’

Olivia

‘Cross-garter’d?’

Malvolio

‘Go to, thou an made, if thou desir’st to be so’;-

Olivia

Am I made?

Malvolio

‘If not, let me see thee a servant still.’

Olivia

Why, this is very midsummer madness

Enter Servant

Servant

Madam, the young gentleman of the Count Orsino’s is return’d; I could hardly entreat him back; he attends your ladyship’s pleasure

Olivia

I’ll come to him.

Exit Servant

Good Maria, let this fellow be look’d to. Where’s my cousin Toby? Let some of my people have a special care of him; I would not have him miscarry for the half of my dowry

Exeunt Olivia and Maria

Malvolio

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 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, everything 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 thanked

Re-enter Maria, with Sir Toby and Fabian

Sir Toby

Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all the devils of hell be drawn in little, and Legion himself possess’d him, yet I’ll speak to him

Fabian

Here he is, here he is. How is’t with you, sir?

Sir Toby

How is’t with you, man?

Malvolio

Go off; I discard you. Let me enjoy my private; go off

Maria

Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! Did not I tell you? Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a care of him

Malvolio

Ah, ha! does she so?

Sir Toby

Go to, go to; peace, peace; we must deal gently with him. Let me alone. How do you, Malvolio? How is’t with you? What, man, defy the devil; consider, he’s an enemy to mankind

Malvolio

Do you know what you say?

Maria

La you, an you speak ill of the devil, how he takes it at heart! Pray God he be not bewitched

Fabian

Carry his water to th’ wise woman

Maria

Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning, if I live. My lady would not lose him for more than I’ll say

Malvolio

How now, mistress!

Maria

O Lord!

Sir Toby

Prithee hold thy peace; this is not the way. Do you not see you move him? Let me alone with him

Fabian

No way but gentleness- gently, gently. The fiend is rough, and will not be roughly us’d

Sir Toby

Why, how now, my bawcock!

How dost thou, chuck?

Malvolio

Sir!

Sir Toby

Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, man, ‘tis not for gravity to play at cherrypit with Satan. Hang him, foul collier!

Maria

Get him to say his prayers, good Sir Toby, get him to pray

Malvolio

My prayers, minx!

Maria

No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godliness

Malvolio

Go, hang yourselves all! You are idle shallow things; I am not of your element; you shall know more hereafter

Exit

Sir Toby

Is’t possible?

Fabian

If this were play’d upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction

Sir Toby

His very genius hath taken the infection of the device, man

Maria

Nay, pursue him now, lest the device take air and taint

Fabian

Why, we shall make him mad indeed

Maria

The house will be the quieter

Sir Toby

Come, we’ll have him in a dark room and bound. My niece is already in the belief that he’s mad. We may carry it thus, for our pleasure and his penance, till our very pastime, tired out of breath, prompt us to have mercy on him; at which time we will bring the device to the bar and crown thee for a finder of madmen. But see, but see

Enter Sir Andrew

Fabian

More matter for a May morning

Aguecheek

Here’s the challenge; read it. I warrant there’s vinegar and pepper in’t

Fabian

Is’t so saucy?

Aguecheek

Ay, is’t, I warrant him; do but read

Sir Toby

Give me. [Reads] ‘Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art but a scurvy fellow.’

Fabian

Good and valiant

Sir Toby

[Reads] ‘Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind, why I do call thee so, for I will show thee no reason for’t.’

Fabian

A good note; that keeps you from the blow of the law

Sir Toby

[Reads] ‘Thou com’st to the Lady Olivia, and in my sight she uses thee kindly; but thou liest in thy throat; that is not the matter I challenge thee for.’

Fabian

Very brief, and to exceeding good sense- less

Sir Toby

[Reads] ‘I will waylay thee going home; where if it be thy chance to kill me’-

Fabian

Good

Sir Toby

‘Thou kill’st me like a rogue and a villain.’

Fabian

Still you keep o’ th’ windy side of the law. Good!

Sir Toby

[Reads] ‘Fare thee well; and God have mercy upon one of our souls! He may have mercy upon mine; but my hope is better, and so look to thyself. Thy friend, as thou usest him, and thy sworn enemy,

Andrew Aguecheek.

If this letter move him not, his legs cannot. I’ll give’t him.

Maria

You may have very fit occasion for’t; he is now in some commerce with my lady, and will by and by depart.

Sir Toby

Go, Sir Andrew; scout me for him at the corner of the orchard, like a bum-baily; so soon as ever thou seest him, draw; and as thou draw’st, swear horrible; for it comes to pass oft that a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent sharply twang’d off, gives manhood more approbation than ever proof itself would have earn’d him. Away.

Aguecheek

Nay, let me alone for swearing.

Exit

Sir Toby

Now will not I deliver his letter; for the behaviour of the young gentleman gives him out to be of good capacity and breeding; his employment between his lord and my niece confirms no less. Therefore this letter, being so excellently ignorant, will breed no terror in the youth: he will find it comes from a clodpole. But, sir, I will deliver his challenge by word of mouth, set upon Aguecheek notable report of valour, and drive the gentleman- as know his youth will aptly receive it- into a most hideous opinion of his rage, skill, fury, and impetuosity. This will so fright them both that they will kill one another by the look, like cockatrices

Re-enter Olivia. With Viola

Fabian

Here he comes with your niece; give them way till he take leave, and presently after him

Sir Toby

I will meditate the while upon some horrid message for a challenge

Exeunt Sir Toby, Fabian, and Maria

Olivia

I have said too much unto a heart of stone,

And laid mine honour too unchary out;

There’s something in me that reproves my fault;

But such a headstrong potent fault it is

That it but mocks reproof

Viola

With the same haviour that your passion bears

Goes on my master’s griefs

Olivia

Here, wear this jewel for me; ‘tis my picture

Refuse it not; it hath no tongue to vex you

And I beseech you come again to-morrow

What shall you ask of me that I’ll deny,

That honour sav’d may upon asking give?

Viola

Nothing but this- your true love for my master

Olivia

How with mine honour may I give him that

Which I have given to you?

Viola

I will acquit you

Olivia

Well, come again to-morrow. Fare thee well;

A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell.

Exit

Re-enter Sir Toby and Sir Fabian

Sir Toby

Gentleman, God save thee

Viola

And you, sir

Sir Toby

That defence thou hast, betake thee tot. Of what nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know not; but thy intercepter, full of despite, bloody as the hunter, attends thee at the orchard end. Dismount thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation, for thy assailant is quick, skilful, and deadly

Viola

You mistake, sir; I am sure no man hath any quarrel to me; my remembrance is very free and clear from any image of offence done to any man

Sir Toby

You’ll find it otherwise, I assure you; therefore, if you hold your life at any price, betake you to your guard; for your opposite hath in him what youth, strength, skill, and wrath, can furnish man withal

Viola

I pray you, sir, what is he?

Sir Toby

He is knight, dubb’d with unhatch’d rapier and on carpet consideration; but he is a devil in private brawl. Souls and bodies hath he divorc’d three; and his incensement at this moment is so implacable that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death and sepulchre. Hob-nob is his word- give’t or take’t

Viola

I will return again into the house and desire some conduct of the lady. I am no fighter. I have heard of some kind of men that put quarrels purposely on others to taste their valour; belike this is a man of that quirk

Sir Toby

Sir, no; his indignation derives itself out of a very competent injury; therefore, get you on and give him his desire. Back you shall not to the house, unless you undertake that with me which with as much safety you might answer him; therefore on, or strip your sword stark naked; for meddle you must, that’s certain, or forswear to wear iron about you

Viola

This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you do me this courteous office as to know of the knight what my offence to him is: it is something of my negligence, nothing of my purpose

Sir Toby

I Will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by this gentleman till my return

Exit Sir Toby

Viola

Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter?

Fabian

I know the knight is incens’d against you, even to a mortal arbitrement; but nothing of the circumstance more

Viola

I beseech you, what manner of man is he?

Fabian

Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read him by his form, as you are like to find him in the proof of his valour. He is indeed, sir, the most skilful, bloody, and fatal opposite that you could possibly have found in any part of Illyria. Will you walk towards him? I will make your peace with him if I can

Viola

I shall be much bound to you for’t. I am one that would rather go with sir priest than sir knight. I care not who knows so much of my mettle.

Exeunt

Re-enter Sir Toby With Sir Andrew

Sir Toby

Why, man, he’s a very devil; I have not seen such a firago. I had a pass with him, rapier, scabbard, and all, and he gives me the stuck in with such a mortal motion that it is inevitable; and on the answer, he pays you as surely as your feet hit the ground they step on. They say he has been fencer to the Sophy

Aguecheek

Pox on’t, I’ll not meddle with him

Sir Toby

Ay, but he will not now be pacified; Fabian can scarce hold him yonder

Aguecheek

Plague on’t; an I thought he had been valiant, and so cunning in fence, I’d have seen him damn’d ere I’d have challeng’d him. Let him let the matter slip, and I’ll give him my horse, grey Capilet

Sir Toby

I’ll make the motion. Stand here, make a good show on’t; this shall end without the perdition of souls. [Aside] Marry, I’ll ride your horse as well as I ride you

Re-enter Fabian and Viola

[To Fabian] I have his horse to take up the quarrel; I have persuaded him the youth’s a devil

Fabian

[To Sir Toby] He is as horribly conceited of him; and pants

and looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels

Sir Toby

[To Viola] There’s no remedy, sir: he will fight with you for’s oath sake. Marry, he hath better bethought him of his quarrel, and he finds that now scarce to be worth talking of. Therefore draw for the supportance of his vow; he protests he will not hurt you

Viola

[Aside]Pray God defend me! A little thing would make me tell them how much I lack of a man

Fabian

Give ground if you see him furious

Sir Toby

Come, Sir Andrew, there’s no remedy; the gentleman will, for his honour’s sake, have one bout with you; he cannot by the duello avoid it; but he has promis’d me, as he is a gentleman and a soldier, he will not hurt you. Come on; to’t

Aguecheek

Pray God he keep his oath! [They draw]

Enter Antonio

Viola

I do assure you ‘tis against my will

Antonio

Put up your sword. If this young gentleman

Have done offence, I take the fault on me:

If you offend him, I for him defy you

Sir Toby

You, sir! Why, what are you?

Antonio

One, sir, that for his love dares yet do more

Than you have heard him brag to you he will

Sir Toby

Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for you

[They draw]

Enter Officers

Fabian

O good Sir Toby, hold! Here come the officers

Sir Toby

[To Antonio] I’ll be with you anon

Viola

Pray, sir, put your sword up, if you please

Aguecheek

Marry, will I, sir; and for that I promis’d you, I’ll be as good as my word. He will bear you easily and reins well

First Officer

This is the man; do thy office

Second Officer

Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit

Of Count Orsino

Antonio

You do mistake me, sir

First Officer

No, sir, no jot; I know your favour well,

Though now you have no sea-cap on your head

Take him away; he knows I know him well

Antonio

I Must obey. [To Viola] This comes with seeking you;

But there’s no remedy; I shall answer it

What will you do, now my necessity

Makes me to ask you for my purse? It grieves me

Much more for what I cannot do for you

Than what befalls myself. You stand amaz’d;

But be of comfort

Second Officer

Come, sir, away

Antonio

I must entreat of you some of that money

Viola

What money, sir?

For the fair kindness you have show’d me here,

And part being prompted by your present trouble,

Out of my lean and low ability

I’ll lend you something. My having is not much;

I’ll make division of my present with you;

Hold, there’s half my coffer

Antonio

Will you deny me now?

Is’t possible that my deserts to you

Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery,

Lest that it make me so unsound a man

As to upbraid you with those kindnesses

That I have done for you

Viola

I know of none,

Nor know I you by voice or any feature

I hate ingratitude more in a man

Than lying, vainness, babbling drunkenness,

Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption

Inhabits our frail blood

Antonio

O heavens themselves!

Second Officer

Come, sir, I pray you go

Antonio

Let me speak a little. This youth that you see here

I snatch’d one half out of the jaws of death,

Reliev’d him with such sanctity of love,

And to his image, which methought did promise

Most venerable worth, did I devotion

First Officer

What’s that to us? The time goes by; away

Antonio

But, O, how vile an idol proves this god!

Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame

In nature there’s no blemish but the mind:

None can be call’d deform’d but the unkind

Virtue is beauty; but the beauteous evil

Are empty trunks, o’erflourish’d by the devil

First Officer

The man grows mad. Away with him

Come, come, sir

Antonio

Lead me on

Exit with Officers

Viola

Methinks his words do from such passion fly

That he believes himself; so do not I

Prove true, imagination, O, prove true,

That I, dear brother, be now ta’en for you!

Sir Toby

Come hither, knight; come hither, Fabian; we’ll whisper

o’er a couplet or two of most sage saws

Viola

He nam’d Sebastian. I my brother know

Yet living in my glass; even such and so

In favour was my brother; and he went

Still in this fashion, colour, ornament,

For him I imitate. O, if it prove,

Tempests are kind, and salt waves fresh in love!

Exit

Sir Toby

A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward than a hare. His dishonesty appears in leaving his friend here in necessity and denying him; and for his cowardship, ask Fabian

Fabian

A coward, a most devout coward, religious in it

Aguecheek

‘Slid, I’ll after him again and beat him

Sir Toby

Do; cuff him soundly, but never draw thy sword

Aguecheek

And I do not-

Exit

Fabian

Come, let’s see the event

Sir Toby

I dare lay any money ‘twill be nothing yet

Exeunt

Act IV

Scene I

Before Olivia’s house

Enter Sebastian and Clown

Clown

Will you make me believe that I am not sent for you?

Sebastian

Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow; let me be clear of thee

Clown

Well held out, i’ faith! No, I do not know you; nor I am not sent to you by my lady, to bid you come speak with her; nor your name is not Master Cesario; nor this is not my nose neither. Nothing that is so is so

Sebastian

I prithee vent thy folly somewhere else

Thou know’st not me

Clown

Vent my folly! He has heard that word of some great man, and now applies it to a fool. Vent my folly! I am afraid this great lubber, the world, will prove a cockney. I prithee now, ungird thy strangeness, and tell me what I shall vent to my lady. Shall I vent to her that thou art coming?

Sebastian

I prithee, foolish Greek, depart from me;

There’s money for thee; if you tarry longer

I shall give worse payment

Clown

By my troth, thou hast an open hand. These wise men that give fools money get themselves a good report after fourteen years’ purchase

Enter Sir Andrew, Sir Toby, and Fabian

Aguecheek

Now, sir, have I met you again?

[Striking Sebastian] There’s for you

Sebastian

Why, there’s for thee, and there, and there

Are all the people mad?

Sir Toby

Hold, sir, or I’ll throw your dagger o’er the house

[Holding Sebastian]

Clown

This will I tell my lady straight. I would not be in some of your coats for two-pence.

Exit

Sir Toby

Come on, sir; hold

Aguecheek

Nay, let him alone. I’ll go another way to work with him; I’ll have an action of battery against him, if there be any law in Illyria; though I struck him first, yet it’s no matter for that

Sebastian

Let go thy hand

Sir Toby

Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier, put up your iron; you are well flesh’d. Come on

Sebastian

I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou now?

If thou dar’st tempt me further, draw thy sword.

[Draws]

Sir Toby

What, what? Nay, then I must have an ounce or two of this malapert blood from you. [Draws]

Enter Olivia

Olivia

Hold, Toby; on thy life, I charge thee hold

Sir Toby

Madam!

Olivia

Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch,

Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves,

Where manners ne’er were preach’d! Out of my sight!

Be not offended, dear Cesario-

Rudesby, be gone!

Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian

I prithee, gentle friend,

Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway

In this uncivil and unjust extent

Against thy peace. Go with me to my house,

And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks

This ruffian hath botch’d up, that thou thereby

Mayst smile at this. Thou shalt not choose but go;

Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me!

He started one poor heart of mine in thee

Sebastian

What relish is in this? How runs the stream?

Or I am mad, or else this is a dream

Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;

If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!

Olivia

Nay, come, I prithee. Would thou’dst be rul’d by me!

Sebastian

Madam, I will

Olivia

O, say so, and so be!

Exeunt

Scene II

Olivia’s house

Enter Maria and Clown

Maria

Nay, I prithee, put on this gown and this beard; make him believe thou art Sir Topas the curate; do it quickly. I’ll call Sir Toby the whilst

Exit

Clown

Well, I’ll put it on, and I will dissemble myself in’t; and

I would I were the first that ever dissembled in such a gown. I am not tall enough to become the function well nor lean enough to be thought a good student; but to be said an honest man and a good housekeeper goes as fairly as to say a careful man and a great scholar.

The competitors enter

Enter Sir Toby and Maria

Sir Toby

Jove bless thee, Master Parson

Clown

Bonos dies, Sir Toby; for as the old hermit of Prague, that never saw pen and ink, very wittily said to niece of King Gorboduc ‘That that is is’; so I, being Master Parson, am Master Parson; for what is ‘that’ but that, and ‘is’ but is?

Sir Toby

To him, Sir Topas

Clown

What ho, I say! Peace in this prison!

Sir Toby

The knave counterfeits well; a good knave

Malvolio

[Within] Who calls there?

Clown

Sir Topas the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio the lunatic

Malvolio

Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to my lady

Clown

Out, hyperbolical fiend! How vexest thou this man!

Talkest thou nothing but of ladies?

Sir Toby

Well said, Master Parson

Malvolio

Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged. Good Sir Topas, do not think I am mad; they have laid me here in hideous darkness

Clown

Fie, thou dishonest Satan! I call thee by the most modest terms, for I am one of those gentle ones that will use the devil himself with courtesy. Say’st thou that house is dark?

Malvolio

As hell, Sir Topas

Clown

Why, it hath bay windows transparent as barricadoes, and the clerestories toward the south north are as lustrous as ebony; and yet complainest thou of obstruction?

Malvolio

I am not mad, Sir Topas. I say to you this house is dark

Clown

Madman, thou errest. I say there is no darkness but ignorance; in which thou art more puzzled than the Egyptians in their fog

Malvolio

I say this house is as dark as ignorance, though ignorance were as dark as hell; and I say there was never man thus abus’d. I am no more mad than you are; make the trial of it in any constant question

Clown

What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild fowl?

Malvolio

That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird

Clown

What think’st thou of his opinion?

Malvolio

I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his opinion

Clown

Fare thee well. Remain thou still in darkness: thou shalt

hold th’ opinion of Pythagoras ere I will allow of thy wits; and fear to kill a woodcock, lest thou dispossess the soul of thy grandam. Fare thee well

Malvolio

Sir Topas, Sir Topas!

Sir Toby

My most exquisite Sir Topas!

Clown

Nay, I am for all waters

Maria

Thou mightst have done this without thy beard and gown: he sees thee not

Sir Toby

To him in thine own voice, and bring me word how thou find’st him. I would we were well rid of this knavery. If he may be conveniently deliver’d, I would he were; for I am now so far in offence with my niece that I cannot pursue with any safety this sport to the upshot. Come by and by to my chamber

Exit with Maria

Clown

[Sings] Hey, Robin, jolly Robin,

Tell me how thy lady does

Malvolio

Fool!

Clown

[Sings] My lady is unkind, perdy

Malvolio

Fool!

Clown

[Sings] Alas, why is she so?

Malvolio

Fool I say!

Clown

[Sings] She loves another- Who calls, ha?

Malvolio

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

Clown

Master Malvolio?

Malvolio

Ay, good fool

Clown

Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits?

Malvolio

Fool, there was never man so notoriously abus’d;

I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art

Clown

But as well? Then you are mad indeed, if you be no better in your wits than a fool

Malvolio

They have here propertied me; keep me in darkness, send ministers to me, asses, and do all they can to face me out of my wits

Clown

Advise you what. you say: the minister is here

[Speaking as Sir Topas] Malvolio, thy wits the heavens restore! Endeavour thyself to sleep, and leave thy vain bibble-babble

Malvolio

Sir Topas!

Clown

Maintain no words with him, good fellow.- Who, I, sir? Not I, sir. God buy you, good Sir Topas.- Marry, amen.- I will sir, I will

Malvolio

Fool, fool, fool, I say!

Clown

Alas, sir, be patient. What say you, sir? I am shent for speaking to you

Malvolio

Good fool, help me to some light and some paper

I tell thee I am as well in my wits as any man in Illyria

Clown

Well-a-day that you were, sir!

Malvolio

By this hand, I am. Good fool, some ink, paper, and light; and convey what I will set down to my lady. It shall advantage thee more than ever the bearing of letter did

Clown

I will help you to’t. But tell me true, are you not mad indeed, or do you but counterfeit?

Malvolio

Believe me, I am not; I tell thee true

Clown

Nay, I’ll ne’er believe a madman till I see his brains

I will fetch you light and paper and ink

Malvolio

Fool, I’ll requite it in the highest degree; I prithe be gone

Clown

[Singing]

I am gone, sir,

And anon, sir,

I’ll be with you again,

In a trice,

Like to the old Vice,

Your need to sustain;

Who with dagger of lath,

In his rage and his wrath,

Cries, Ah, ha! to the devil,

Like a mad lad,

Pare thy nails, dad

Adieu, goodman devil

Exit

Scene III

Olivia’s garden

Enter Sebastian

Sebastian

This is the air; that is the glorious sun;

This pearl she gave me, I do feel’t and see’t;

And though ‘tis wonder that enwraps me thus,

Yet ‘tis not madness. Where’s Antonio, then?

I could not find him at the Elephant;

Yet there he was; and there I found this credit,

That he did range the town to seek me out

His counsel now might do me golden service;

For though my soul disputes well with my sense

That this may be some error, but no madness,

Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune

So far exceed all instance, all discourse,

That I am ready to distrust mine eyes

And wrangle with my reason, that persuades me

To any other trust but that I am mad,

Or else the lady’s mad; yet if ‘twere so,

She could not sway her house, command her followers,

Take and give back affairs and their dispatch

With such a smooth, discreet, and stable bearing,

As I perceive she does. There’s something in’t

That is deceivable. But here the lady comes

Enter Olivia and Priest

Olivia

Blame not this haste of mine. If you mean well,

Now go with me and with this holy man

Into the chantry by; there, before him

And underneath that consecrated roof,

Plight me the fun assurance of your faith,

That my most jealous and too doubtful soul

May live at peace. He shall conceal it

Whiles you are willing it shall come to note,

What time we will our celebration keep

According to my birth. What do you say?

Sebastian

I’ll follow this good man, and go with you;

And, having sworn truth, ever will be true

Olivia

Then lead the way, good father; and heavens so shine

That they may fairly note this act of mine!

Exeunt

Act V

Scene I

Before Olivia’s house

Enter Clown and Fabian

Twelfth Night, Viola and the Duke
by Robert Trewick Bone, 1790-1840, drawing
(accessed through LUNA: Folger Digital Image Collection)

Fabian

Now, as thou lov’st me, let me see his letter.

Clown

Good Master Fabian, grant me another request.

Fabian

Anything.

Clown

Do not desire to see this letter.

Fabian

This is to give a dog, and in recompense desire my dog again.

Enter Duke, Viola, Curio, and Lords

Duke

Belong you to the Lady Olivia, friends?

Clown

Ay, sir, we are some of her trappings.

Duke

I know thee well. How dost thou, my good fellow?

Clown

Truly, sir, the better for my foes and the worse for my friends.

Duke

Just the contrary: the better for thy friends

Clown

No, sir, the worse

Duke

How can that be?

Clown

Marry, sir, they praise me and make an ass of me. Now my foes tell me plainly I am an ass; so that by my foes, sir, I profit in the knowledge of myself, and by my friends I am abused; so that, conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives make your two affirmatives, why then, the worse for my friends, and the better for my foes

Duke

Why, this is excellent

Clown

By my troth, sir, no; though it please you to be one of my friends

Duke

Thou shalt not be the worse for me. There’s gold

Clown

But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I would you could make it another

Duke

O, you give me ill counsel

Clown

Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this once, and let your flesh and blood obey it

Duke

Well, I will be so much a sinner to be a double-dealer

There’s another

Clown

Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play; and the old saying is ‘The third pays for all.’ The triplex, sir, is a good tripping measure; or the bells of Saint Bennet, sir, may put you in mind- one, two, three

Duke

You can fool no more money out of me at this throw; if you will let your lady know I am here to speak with her, and bring her along with you, it may awake my bounty further

Clown

Marry, sir, lullaby to your bounty till I come again. I go, sir; but I would not have you to think that my desire of having is the sin of covetousness. But, as you say, sir, let your bounty take a nap; I will awake it anon.

Exit

Enter Antonio and Officers

Viola

Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me

Duke

That face of his I do remember well;

Yet when I saw it last it was besmear’d

As black as Vulcan in the smoke of war

A baubling vessel was he captain of,

For shallow draught and bulk unprizable,

With which such scathful grapple did he make

With the most noble bottom of our fleet

That very envy and the tongue of los

Cried fame and honour on him. What’s the matter?

First Officer

Orsino, this is that Antonio

That took the Phoenix and her fraught from Candy;

And this is he that did the Tiger board

When your young nephew Titus lost his leg

Here in the streets, desperate of shame and state,

In private brabble did we apprehend him

Viola

He did me kindness, sir; drew on my side;

But in conclusion put strange speech upon me

I know not what ‘twas but distraction

Duke

Notable pirate, thou salt-water thief!

What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies

Whom thou, in terms so bloody and so dear,

Hast made thine enemies?

Antonio

Orsino, noble sir,

Be pleas’d that I shake off these names you give me:

Antonio never yet was thief or pirate,

Though I confess, on base and ground enough,

Orsino’s enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither:

That most ingrateful boy there by your side

From the rude sea’s enrag’d and foamy mouth

Did I redeem; a wreck past hope he was

His life I gave him, and did thereto ad

My love without retention or restraint,

All his in dedication; for his sake,

Did I expose myself, pure for his love,

Into the danger of this adverse town;

Drew to defend him when he was beset;

Where being apprehended, his false cunning,

Not meaning to partake with me in danger,

Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,

And grew a twenty years removed thing

While one would wink; denied me mine own purse,

Which I had recommended to his use

Not half an hour before

Viola

How can this be?

Duke

When came he to this town?

Antonio

To-day, my lord; and for three months before,

No int’rim, not a minute’s vacancy,

Both day and night did we keep company

Enter Olivia and Attendants

Duke

Here comes the Countess; now heaven walks on earth

But for thee, fellow- fellow, thy words are madness

Three months this youth hath tended upon me-

But more of that anon. Take him aside

Olivia

What would my lord, but that he may not have,

Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?

Cesario, you do not keep promise with me

Viola

Madam?

Duke

Gracious Olivia-

Olivia

What do you say, Cesario? Good my lord-

Viola

My lord would speak; my duty hushes me

Olivia

If it be aught to the old tune, my lord,

It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear

As howling after music

Duke

Still so cruel?

Olivia

Still so constant, lord

Duke

What, to perverseness? You uncivil lady,

To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars

My soul the faithfull’st off’rings hath breath’d out

That e’er devotion tender’d! What shall I do?

Olivia

Even what it please my lord, that shall become him

Duke

Why should I not, had I the heart to do it,

Like to the Egyptian thief at point of death,

Kill what I love?- a savage jealousy

That sometime savours nobly. But hear me this:

Since you to non-regardance cast my faith,

And that I partly know the instrument

That screws me from my true place in your favour,

Live you the marble-breasted tyrant still;

But this your minion, whom I know you love,

And whom, by heaven I swear, I tender dearly,

Him will I tear out of that cruel eye

Where he sits crowned in his master’s spite

Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mischief:

I’ll sacrifice the lamb that I do love

To spite a raven’s heart within a dove

Viola

And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly,

To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die

Olivia

Where goes Cesario?

Viola

After him I love

More than I love these eyes, more than my life,

More, by all mores, than e’er I shall love wife

If I do feign, you witnesses above

Punish my life for tainting of my love!

Olivia

Ay me, detested! How am I beguil’d!

Viola

Who does beguile you? Who does do you wrong?

Olivia

Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long?

Call forth the holy father

Exit an Attendant

Duke

Come, away!

Olivia

Whither, my lord? Cesario, husband, stay

Duke

Husband?

Olivia

Ay, husband; can he that deny?

Duke

Her husband, sirrah?

Viola

No, my lord, not I

Olivia

Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear

That makes thee strangle thy propriety

Fear not, Cesario, take thy fortunes up;

Be that thou know’st thou art, and then thou art

As great as that thou fear’st

Enter Priest

O, welcome, father!

Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence,

Here to unfold- though lately we intended

To keep in darkness what occasion now

Reveals before ‘tis ripe- what thou dost know

Hath newly pass’d between this youth and me

Priest

A contract of eternal bond of love,

Confirm’d by mutual joinder of your hands,

Attested by the holy close of lips,

Strength’ned by interchangement of your rings;

And all the ceremony of this compact

Seal’d in my function, by my testimony;

Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave,

I have travell’d but two hours

Duke

O thou dissembling cub! What wilt thou be,

When time hath sow’d a grizzle on thy case?

Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow

That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow?

Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feet

Where thou and I henceforth may never meet

Viola

My lord, I do protest-

Olivia

O, do not swear!

Hold little faith, though thou has too much fear

Enter Sir Andrew

Aguecheek

For the love of God, a surgeon!

Send one presently to Sir Toby

Olivia

What’s the matter?

Aguecheek

Has broke my head across, and has given Sir Toby a bloody coxcomb too. For the love of God, your help! I had rather than forty pound I were at home

Olivia

Who has done this, Sir Andrew?

Aguecheek

The Count’s gentleman, one Cesario. We took him for a coward, but he’s the very devil incardinate

Duke

My gentleman, Cesario?

Aguecheek

Od’s lifelings, here he is! You broke my head for nothing; and that that did, I was set on to do’t by Sir Toby

Viola

Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you

You drew your sword upon me without cause;

But I bespake you fair and hurt you not

Enter Sir Toby and Clown

Aguecheek

If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me; I think you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb. Here comes Sir Toby halting; you shall hear more; but if he had not been in drink, he would have tickl’d you othergates than he did

Duke

How now, gentleman? How is’t with you?

Sir Toby

That’s all one; has hurt me, and there’s th’ end on’t

Sot, didst see Dick Surgeon, sot?

Clown

O, he’s drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyes were set at eight i’ th’ morning

Sir Toby

Then he’s a rogue and a passy measures pavin. I hate a drunken rogue

Olivia

Away with him. Who hath made this havoc with them?

Aguecheek

I’ll help you, Sir Toby, because we’ll be dress’d together

Sir Toby

Will you help- an ass-head and a coxcomb and a knave, a thin fac’d knave, a gull?

Olivia

Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look’d to

Exeunt Clown, Fabian, Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew

Enter Sebastian

Sebastian

I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kinsman;

But, had it been the brother of my blood,

I must have done no less with wit and safety

You throw a strange regard upon me, and by that

I do perceive it hath offended you

Pardon me, sweet one, even for the vows

We made each other but so late ago

Duke

One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons!

A natural perspective, that is and is not

Sebastian

Antonio, O my dear Antonio!

How have the hours rack’d and tortur’d me

Since I have lost thee!

Antonio

Sebastian are you?

Sebastian

Fear’st thou that, Antonio?

Antonio

How have you made division of yourself?

An apple cleft in two is not more twin

Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian?

Olivia

Most wonderful!

Sebastian

Do I stand there? I never had a brother;

Nor can there be that deity in my nature

Of here and everywhere. I had a sister

Whom the blind waves and surges have devour’d

Of charity, what kin are you to me?

What countryman, what name, what parentage?

Viola

Of Messaline; Sebastian was my father

Such a Sebastian was my brother too;

So went he suited to his watery tomb;

If spirits can assume both form and suit,

You come to fright us

Sebastian

A spirit I am indeed,

But am in that dimension grossly clad

Which from the womb I did participate

Were you a woman, as the rest goes even,

I should my tears let fall upon your cheek,

And say ‘Thrice welcome, drowned Viola!’

Viola

My father had a mole upon his brow

Sebastian

And so had mine

Viola

And died that day when Viola from her birth

Had numb’red thirteen years

Sebastian

O, that record is lively in my soul!

He finished indeed his mortal act

That day that made my sister thirteen years

Viola

If nothing lets to make us happy both

But this my masculine usurp’d attire,

Do not embrace me till each circumstance

Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and jump

That I am Viola; which to confirm,

I’ll bring you to a captain in this town,

Where lie my maiden weeds; by whose gentle help

I was preserv’d to serve this noble Count

All the occurrence of my fortune since

Hath been between this lady and this lord

Sebastian

[To Olivia] So Comes it, lady, you have been mistook;

But nature to her bias drew in that

You would have been contracted to a maid;

Nor are you therein, by my life, deceiv’d;

You are betroth’d both to a maid and man

Duke

Be not amaz’d; right noble is his blood

If this be so, as yet the glass seems true,

I shall have share in this most happy wreck

[To Viola] Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times

Thou never shouldst love woman like to me

Viola

And all those sayings will I overswear;

And all those swearings keep as true in soul

As doth that orbed continent the fire

That severs day from night

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

Re-enter Clown, with a letter, and Fabian

A most extracting frenzy of mine own

From my remembrance clearly banish’d 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 ‘t you to-day morning, but as a madman’s epistles are no gospels, so it skills not much when they are deliver’d

Olivia

Open’t, and read it

Clown

Look then to be well edified when the fool delivers the madman. [Reads madly] ‘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-Us’D Malvolio’

Olivia

Did he write this?

Clown

Ay, Madam

Duke

This savours not much of distraction

Olivia

See him deliver’d, 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

You master’s mistress

Olivia

A sister! You are she

Re-enter Fabian, with 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

Malvolio

Lady, you have. Pray you peruse that letter

You must not now deny it is your hand;

Write from it if you can, in hand or phrase;

Or say ‘tis not your seal, not your invention;

You can say none of this. Well, grant it then,

And tell me, in the modesty of honour,

Why you have given me such clear lights of favour,

Bade me come smiling and cross-garter’d to you,

To put on yellow stockings, and to frown

Upon Sir Toby and the lighter people;

And, acting this in an obedient hope,

Why have you suffer’d me to be imprison’d,

Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest,

And made the most notorious geck and gul

That e’er invention play’d on? Tell me why

Olivia

Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing,

Though, I confess, much like the character;

But out of question ‘tis Maria’s hand

And now I do bethink me, it was she

First told me thou wast mad; then cam’st in smiling,

And in such forms which here were presuppos’d

Upon thee in the letter. Prithee, be content;

This practice hath most shrewdly pass’d upon thee,

But, when we know the grounds and authors of it,

Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge

Of thine own cause

Fabian

Good madam, hear me speak,

And let no quarrel nor no brawl to come

Taint the condition of this present hour,

Which I have wond’red at. In hope it shall not,

Most freely I confess myself and Toby

Set this device against Malvolio here,

Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts

We had conceiv’d against him. Maria writ

The letter, at Sir Toby’s great importance,

In recompense whereof he hath married her

How with a sportful malice it was follow’d

May rather pluck on laughter than revenge,

If that the injuries be justly weigh’d

That have on both sides pass’d

Olivia

Alas, poor fool, how have they baffl’d thee!

Clown

Why, ‘Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrown upon them.’ I was one, sir, in this interlude- one Sir Topas, sir; but that’s all one. ‘By the Lord, fool, I am not mad!’ But do you remember- ‘Madam, why laugh you at such a barren rascal? An you smile not, he’s gagg’d’? And thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges

Malvolio

I’ll be reveng’d on the whole pack of you

Exit

Olivia

He hath been most notoriously abus’d

Duke

Pursue him, and entreat him to a peace;

He hath not told us of the captain yet

When that is known, and golden time convents,

A solemn combination shall be made

Of our dear souls. Meantime, sweet sister,

We will not part from hence. Cesario, come;

For so you shall be while you are a man;

But when in other habits you are seen,

Orsino’s mistress, and his fancy’s queen

Exeunt all but the Clown

Clown sings

When that I was and a little tiny boy,

With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,

A foolish thing was but a toy,

For the rain it raineth every day

But when I came to man’s estate,

With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,

‘Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate,

For the rain it raineth every day

But when I came, alas! to wive,

With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,

By swaggering could I never thrive,

For the rain it raineth every day

But when I came unto my beds,

With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,

With toss-pots still had drunken heads,

For the rain it raineth every day

A great while ago the world begun,

With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,

But that’s all one, our play is done,

And we’ll strive to please you every day

Exit

The End