Twelfth Night (Modern)
Not Peer Reviewed
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2.3
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Enter Sir Toby and Sir Andrew.
700Sir Toby Approach, Sir Andrew. Not to be abed after ¶midnight, is to be up betimes; and diluculo surgere, thou ¶know'st.
705Sir Toby A false conclusion. I hate it as an unfilled 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 life consist of the four ¶elements?
¶Sir Toby Th'art a scholar; let us therefore eat and drink. ¶[Calling] Marian, I say, a stoup of wine!
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Enter Clown.
715Sir Andrew Here comes the fool, i'faith.
¶Sir Toby Welcome, ass. Now let's have a catch.
¶Sir Andrew By my troth, the fool has an excellent breast. I 720had 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 725for 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.
¶Sir Toby A love song, a love song.
¶Sir Andrew Ay, ay. I care not for good life.
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Clown sings.
745Sir Andrew Excellent good, i'faith.
¶Sir Toby Good, good.
¶Sir Andrew A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight.
¶Sir Toby A contagious breath.
755Sir Andrew 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?
¶Clown By'r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well.
¶Sir Andrew Most certain. Let our catch be "Thou Knave."
¶Clown "Hold thy peace, thou knave," knight? I shall be 765constrained in't to call thee knave, knight.
¶Sir Andrew 'Tis not the first time I have constrained one to ¶call me knave. Begin, fool. It begins, [Singing] "Hold thy peace."
¶Clown I shall never begin if I hold my peace.
¶Sir Andrew Good, i'faith! Come, begin.
Catch sung.
¶Maria What a caterwauling do you keep here! If ¶my lady have not called up her steward Malvolio, and ¶bid him turn you out of doors, never trust me.
¶Sir Toby My lady's a Cathayan, we are politicians, Malvolio's 775a Peg-a-Ramsay, and [Singing] "Three merry men be we"! Am not I ¶consanguineous? Am I not of her blood? Tilly-vally, ¶lady! [Singing] "There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady, lady"!
¶Clown Beshrew me, the knight's in admirable fooling.
¶Sir Andrew Ay, he does well enough if he be disposed, and so 780do I too. He does it with a better grace, but I do it more ¶natural.
¶Maria For the love o'god, peace!
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Enter Malvolio.
785Malvolio 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 ¶alehouse of my lady's house, that ye squeak out your ¶coziers' catches without any mitigation or remorse of voice? 790Is 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 harbors you as her ¶kinsman, she's nothing allied to your disorders. If you can 795separate yourself and your misdemeanors, you are ¶welcome to the house. If not, an it would please you to take ¶leave of her, she is very willing to bid you farewell.
¶Maria Nay, good Sir Toby.
¶Malvolio Is't even so?
¶Malvolio This is much credit to you.
¶Sir Toby [To Malvolio] Out o'tune, sir? Ye lie! Art any more than a 810steward? Dost thou think because thou art virtuous there ¶shall be no more cakes and ale?
¶Sir Toby Th'art i'th'right. [To Malvolio] Go, sir, rub your chain with 815crumbs. A stoup of wine, Maria!
¶Malvolio Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady's favor ¶at anything more than contempt, you would not give ¶means for this uncivil rule. She shall know of it, by this ¶hand.
Exit.
820Maria Go shake your ears!
¶Sir Andrew 'Twere as good a deed as to drink when a man's ¶a-hungry, 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 825deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth.
¶Maria Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for tonight. Since ¶the youth of the count's was today 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 830him 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.
¶Sir Andrew Oh, if I thought that, I'd beat him like a dog!
¶Maria The devil a puritan that he is, or anything 840constantly but a time-pleaser, an affectioned ass, that ¶cons state without book, and utters it by great swaths. ¶The best persuaded of himself, so crammed, 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 845my 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 color of his beard, the shape of his ¶leg, the manner of his gait, the expressure of his eye, 850forehead, and complexion, he shall find himself most ¶feelingly personated. I can write very like my lady ¶your niece; on a forgotten matter we can hardly make ¶distinction of our hands.
¶Sir Toby Excellent, I smell a device.
855Sir Andrew 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 color.
860Sir Andrew And your horse now would make him an ass.
¶Maria Ass, I doubt not.
¶Sir Andrew Oh, 'twill be admirable!
¶Maria Sport royal, I warrant you. I know my ¶physic will work with him. I will plant you two, and let 865the 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!
¶Sir Andrew Before me, she's a good wench.
¶Sir Andrew I was adored once, too.
¶Sir Andrew If I do not, never trust me, take it how you will.
880Sir Toby Come, come, I'll go burn some sack; 'tis too late ¶to go to bed now. Come, knight, come, knight.
Exeunt.
