Twelfth Night (Folio 1, 1623)
Peer Reviewed
1520
Scœna Quarta.
¶
Enter Oliuia and Maria.
¶For youth is bought more oft, then begg'd, or borrow'd.
¶Where is Maluolio?
¶Mar. He's comming Madame:
1530Ol. Why what's the matter, does he raue?
¶come, for sure the man is tainted in's wits.
¶Ol. Go call him hither.
1535
Enter Maluolio.
¶I am as madde as hee,
¶How now Maluolio?
¶Mal. Sweet Lady, ho, ho.
¶If it please the eye of one, it is with me as the very true
¶What is the matter with thee?
¶Mal. Not blacke in my minde, though yellow in my
¶legges: It did come to his hands, and Commaunds shall
1550be executed. I thinke we doe know the sweet Romane
¶hand.
¶Ol. Wilt thou go to bed Maluolio?
¶Mar. How do you Maluolio?
¶Yes Nightingales answere Dawes.
¶Mar. Why appeare you with this ridiculous bold-
¶Mal. Some are borne great.
¶Ol. Ha?
1570ings.
1575Ol. Am I made?
¶
Enter Seruant.
¶Ser. Madame, the young Gentleman of the Count
1580Orsino's is return'd, I could hardly entreate him backe: he
¶Ol. Ile come to him.
¶Good Maria, let this fellow be look d too. Where's my
1585of him, I would not haue him miscarrie for the halfe of
¶my Dowry.
exit
¶man then sir Toby to looke to me. This concurres direct-
¶I haue lymde her, but it is Ioues doing, and Ioue make me
¶thankefull. And when she went away now, let this Fel-
¶low be look'd too: Fellow? not Maluolio, nor after my
1600degree, but Fellow. Why euery thing adheres togither,
¶can be saide? Nothing that can be, can come betweene
¶me, and the full prospect of my hopes. Well Ioue, not I,
1605is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked.
¶
Enter Toby, Fabian, and Maria.
¶the diuels of hell be drawne in little, and Legion himselfe
¶How ist with you man?
¶go off.
1615did not I tell you? Sir Toby, my Lady prayes you to haue
¶a care of him.
¶gently with him: Let me alone. How do you Maluolio?
¶he's an enemy to mankinde.
¶he takes it at heart. Pray God he be not bewitch'd.
¶if I liue. My Lady would not loose him for more then ile
¶say.
1630Mar. Oh Lord.
¶To. Prethee hold thy peace, this is not the way: Doe
¶you not see you moue him? Let me alone with him.
¶is rough, and will not be roughly vs'd.
¶Mal. Sir.
¶To. I biddy, come with me. What man, tis not for
¶grauity to play at cherrie-pit with sathan Hang him foul
¶Colliar.
¶him to pray.
¶Mal. My prayers Minx.
¶Mar. No I warrant you, he will not heare of godly-
¶things, I am not of your element, you shall knowe more
¶heereafter.
Exit
1650demne it as an improbable fiction.
¶To. His very genius hath taken the infection of the
¶deuice man.
¶and taint.
¶To. Come, wee'l haue him in a darke room & bound.
¶My Neece is already in the beleefe that he's mad: we may
¶carry it thus for our pleasure, and his pennance, til our ve-
1660ry pastime tyred out of breath, prompt vs to haue mercy
¶on him: at which time, we wil bring the deuice to the bar
¶
Enter Sir Andrew.
¶Fa. More matter for a May morning.
1665An. Heere's the Challenge, reade it: I warrant there's
¶vinegar and pepper in't.
¶To. Giue me.
¶Fa. Good, and valiant.
¶To. Wonder not, nor admire not in thy minde why I doe call
¶thee kindly: but thou lyest in thy throat, that is not the matter
¶I challenge thee for.
¶To. I will way-lay thee going home, where if it be thy chance
1680to kill me.
¶Fa. Good.
¶Tob. Fartheewell, and God haue mercie vpon one of our
1685soules. He may haue mercie vpon mine, but my hope is better,
¶sworne enemie, Andrew Ague-cheeke.
¶To. If this Letter moue him not, his legges cannot:
¶Ile giu't him.
¶in some commerce with my Ladie, and will by and by
¶depart.
¶ring accent sharpely twang'd off, giues manhoode more
¶approbation, then euer proofe it selfe would haue earn'd
¶him. Away.
¶To. Now will not I deliuer his Letter: for the behaui-
¶our of the yong Gentleman, giues him out to be of good
¶capacity, and breeding: his employment betweene his
1705Letter being so excellently ignorant, will breed no terror
¶in the youth: he will finde it comes from a Clodde-pole.
¶But sir, I will deliuer his Challenge by word of mouth;
¶set vpon Ague-cheeke a notable report of valor, and driue
¶the Gentleman (as I know his youth will aptly receiue it)
¶kill one another by the looke, like Cockatrices.
¶
Enter Oliuia and Viola.
¶Fab. Heere he comes with your Neece, giue them way
1715till he take leaue, and presently after him.
¶for a Challenge.
¶And laid mine honour too vnchary on't:
1720There's something in me that reproues my fault:
¶That it but mockes reproofe.
¶Goes on my Masters greefes.
1725Ol. Heere, weare this Iewell for me, tis my picture:
¶Refuse it not, it hath no tongue, to vex you:
¶And I beseech you come againe to morrow.
¶Ol. How with mine honor may I giue him that,
¶Which I haue giuen to you.
¶Vio. I will acquit you.
¶Ol. Well. come againe to morrow: far-thee-well,
1735A Fiend like thee might beare my soule to hell.
¶
Enter Toby and Fabian.
1740nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I knowe not:
¶but thy intercepter full of despight, bloody as the Hun-
¶ter, attends thee at the Orchard end: dismount thy tucke,
¶full, and deadly.
¶rell to me: my remembrance is very free and cleere from
¶any image of offence done to any man.
¶you hold your life at any price, betake you to your gard:
¶and wrath, can furnish man withall.
¶To. He is knight dubb'd with vnhatch'd Rapier, and
¶on carpet consideration, but he is a diuell in priuate brall,
¶can be none, but by pangs of death and sepulcher: Hob,
¶nob, is his word: giu't or take't.
1760some conduct of the Lady. I am no fighter, I haue heard
¶thers, to taste their valour: belike this is a man of that
¶quirke.
1765ry computent iniurie, therefore get you on, and giue him
¶vndertake that with me, which with as much safetie you
1770sweare to weare iron about you.
¶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.
¶Gentleman, till my returne.
Exit Toby.
¶a mortall arbitrement, but nothing of the circumstance
1780more.
¶by his forme, as you are like to finde him in the proofe of
¶part of Illyria: will you walke towards him, I will make
¶your peace with him, if I can.
1790not who knowes so much of my mettle.
Exeunt.
¶
Enter Toby and Andrew.
1795that it is ineuitable: and on the answer, he payes you as
¶say, he has bin Fencer to the Sophy.
¶And. Pox on't, Ile not meddle with him.
¶To. I but he will not now be pacified,
¶An. Plague on't, and I thought he had beene valiant,
¶I'de haue challeng'd him. Let him let the matter slip, and
¶Ile giue him my horse, gray Capilet.
¶marry Ile ride your horse as well as I ride you.
¶
Enter Fabian and Viola.
1810him the youths a diuell.
¶Fa. He is as horribly conceited of him: and pants, &
¶lookes pale, as if a Beare were at his heeles.
¶oath sake: marrie hee hath better bethought him of his
¶king of: therefore draw for the supportance of his vowe,
¶he protests he will not hurt you.
¶Vio. Pray God defend me: a little thing would make
¶me tell them how much I lacke of a man.
¶tleman will for his honors sake haue one bowt with you:
¶he cannot by the Duello auoide it: but hee has promised
¶me, as he is a Gentleman and a Soldiour, he will not hurt
1825you. Come on, too't.
¶And. Pray God he keepe his oath.
¶
Enter Antonio.
1830Haue done offence, I take the fault on me:
¶If you offend him, I for him defie you.
¶Then you haue heard him brag to you he will.
1835To. Nay, if you be an vndertaker, I am for you.
¶
Enter Officers.
¶To. Ile be with you anon.
¶be as good as my word. Hee will beare you easily, and
¶raines well.
¶ 1. Off. This is the man, do thy Office.
¶Though now you haue no sea-cap on your head:
¶Take him away, he knowes I know him well.
¶Much more, for what I cannot do for you,
1855But be of comfort.
1860And part being prompted by your present trouble,
¶Out of my leane and low ability
¶Ile lend you something: my hauing is not much,
¶Hold, there's halfe my Coffer.
1865Ant. Will you deny me now,
1870That I haue done for you.
¶Vio. I know of none,
¶Nor know I you by voyce, or any feature:
¶I hate ingratitude more in a man,
¶Inhabites our fraile blood.
1880I snatch'd one halfe out of the iawes of death,
¶And to his image, which me thought did promise
¶Most venerable worth, did I deuotion.
¶ 1. Off. What's that to vs, the time goes by: Away.
1885Ant. But oh, how vilde an idoll proues this God:
¶In Nature, there's no blemish but the minde:
¶None can be call'd deform'd, but the vnkinde.
¶Vertue is beauty, but the beauteous euill
1890Are empty trunkes, ore-flourish'd by the deuill.
¶ 1. Off. The man growes mad, away with him:
¶Come, come sir.
¶Proue true imagination, oh proue ttue,
¶That I deere brother, be now tane for you.
¶To. Come hither Knight, come hither Fabian: Weel
¶In fauour was my Brother, and he went
¶Still in this fashion, colour, ornament,
¶For him I imitate: Oh if it proue,
¶it.
¶And. Slid Ile after him againe, and beate him.
¶And. And I do not.
