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Shakespeare on Stage
American Shakespeare Center, Return to the Forbidden Planet. To Dec. 1, 2013.
American Shakespeare Center, Love's Labour's Lost. To Jun. 15, 2013.
American Shakespeare Center, Twelfth Night. To Jun. 16, 2013.
Folger Shakespeare Library, Twelfth Night. To Jun. 9, 2013.
American Shakespeare Center, The Duchess of Malfi. To Jun. 15, 2013.
More Performances…
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Twelfth Night (Folio 1, 1623)

Author: William Shakespeare
Editors: David Carnegie, Mark Houlahan
Peer Reviewed
655
Scæna Secunda.
Enter Viola and Maluolio, at seuerall doores.
Mal. Were not you eu'n now, with the Countesse O-
liuia?
Vio. Euen now sir, on a moderate pace, I haue since a-
660riu'd but hither.
Mal. She returnes this Ring to you (sir) you might
haue saued mee my paines, to haue taken it away your
selfe. She adds moreouer, that you should put your Lord
into a desperate assurance, she will none of him. And one
665thing more, that you be neuer so hardie to come againe
in his affaires, vnlesse it bee to report your Lords taking
of this: receiue it so.
Vio. She tooke the Ring of me, Ile none of it.
Mal. Come sir, you peeuishly threw it to her: and
670her will is, it should be so return'd: If it bee worth stoo-
ping for, there it lies, in your eye: if not, bee it his that
findes it.
Exit.
Vio. I left no Ring with her: what meanes this Lady?
Fortune forbid my out-side haue not charm'd her:
675She made good view of me, indeed so much,
That me thought her eyes had lost her tongue,
For she did speake in starts distractedly.
She loues me sure, the cunning of her passion
Inuites me in this churlish messenger:
680None of my Lords Ring? Why he sent her none;
I am the man, if it be so, as tis,
Poore Lady, she were better loue a dreame:
Disguise, I see thou art a wickednesse,
Wherein the pregnant enemie does much.
685How easie is it, for the proper false
In womens waxen hearts to set their formes:
Alas, O frailtie is the cause, not wee,
For such as we are made, if such we bee:
How will this fadge? My master loues her deerely,
690And I (poore monster) fond asmuch on him:
And she (mistaken) seemes to dote on me:
What will become of this? As I am man,
My state is desperate for my maisters loue:
As I am woman (now alas the day)
695What thriftlesse sighes shall poore Oliuia breath?
O time, thou must vntangle this, not I,
It is too hard a knot for me t'vnty.