Twelfth Night (Modern)
Not Peer Reviewed
¶
4.1
¶Sebastian Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow,
¶Let me be clear of thee.
¶Sebastian I prithee vent thy folly somewhere else,
Thou ¶know'st not me.
¶Clown Vent my folly! [To the audience] He has heard that word of some 1930great man, and now applies it to a fool. Vent my ¶folly! I am afraid this great lubber the world will prove a ¶cockney. [To Sebastian] 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?
There's ¶money for thee; If you tarry longer,
[Threatening a blow] I shall give worse ¶payment.
¶Clown By my troth, thou hast an open hand. [To the audience] These ¶wise men that give fools money get themselves a good 1940report--after fourteen years' purchase!
¶
Enter Sir Andrew, Sir Toby, and Fabian.
¶Sir Andrew Now, sir, have I met you again? There's for you!
[He strikes Sebastian.]
¶Sebastian Why, there's for thee, and there, and there!
[He beats Sir Andrew with the handle of his dagger.]
¶[To the audience] Are all the people mad?
¶Clown [To the audience] This will I tell my lady straight; [To them] I would not be ¶in some of your coats for twopence.
[Exit.]
¶Sir Toby Come on, sir, hold!
¶If thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword.
¶Sir Toby [Drawing] What, what! Nay then, I must have an ounce or 1960two of this malapert blood from you.
¶
Enter Olivia.
¶Olivia Hold, Toby! On thy life I charge thee, hold!
¶Sir Toby Madam.
¶Olivia Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch,
1965Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves,
¶Where manners ne'er were preached! Out of my sight!
¶[To Sebastian] Be not offended, dear Cesario.
¶[To Sir Toby] Rudesby, be gone! [Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew and Fabian.] [To Sebastian] I prithee, gentle friend,
¶Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway
1970In 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 botched up, that thou thereby
¶Mayst smile at this. Thou shalt not choose but go;
1975Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me,
¶He started one poor heart of mine in thee.
¶Or I am mad, or else this is a dream.
¶Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;
1980If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!
¶Olivia Nay, come, I prithee; would thou'dst be ruled by me!
| ¶Sebastian | |
| Madam, I will. | |
| ¶Olivia | |
| O say so, and so be. Exeunt. | |
