Internet Shakespeare Editions

About this text

  • Title: Twelfth Night (Folio 1, 1623)
  • Editors: David Carnegie, Mark Houlahan
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-372-4

    Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editors: David Carnegie, Mark Houlahan
    Peer Reviewed

    Twelfth Night (Folio 1, 1623)

    Twelfe Night, or, What you will.
    Mal. Ioue knowes I loue, but who, Lips do not mooue, no
    1110man must know. No man must know. What followes?
    The numbers alter'd: No man must know,
    If this should be thee Maluolio?
    To. Marrie hang thee brocke.
    Mal. I may command where I adore, but silence like a Lu-
    1115cresse knife:
    With bloodlesse stroke my heart doth gore, M.O.A.I. doth
    sway my life.
    Fa. A fustian riddle.
    To. Excellent Wench, say I.
    1120Mal. M.O.A.I. doth sway my life. Nay but first
    let me see, let me see, let me see.
    Fab. What dish a poyson has she drest him?
    To. And with what wing the stallion checkes at it?
    Mal. I may command, where I adore: Why shee may
    1125command me: I serue her, she is my Ladie. Why this is
    euident to any formall capacitie. There is no obstruction
    in this, and the end: What should that Alphabeticall po-
    sition portend, if I could make that resemble something
    in me? Softly, M.O.A.I.
    1130To. O I, make vp that, he is now at a cold sent.
    Fab. Sowter will cry vpon't for all this, though it bee
    as ranke as a Fox.
    Mal. M. Maluolio, M. why that begins my name.
    Fab. Did not I say he would worke it out, the Curre
    1135is excellent at faults.
    Mal. M. But then there is no consonancy in the sequell
    that suffers vnder probation: A. should follow, but O.
    Fa. And O shall end, I hope.
    1140To. I, or Ile cudgell him, and make him cry O.
    Mal. And then I. comes behind.
    Fa. I, and you had any eye behinde you, you might
    see more detraction at your heeles, then Fortunes before
    1145Mal. M,O,A,I. This simulation is not as the former:
    and yet to crush this a little, it would bow to mee, for e-
    uery one of these Letters are in my name. Soft, here fol-
    lowes prose: If this fall into thy hand, reuolue. In my stars
    I am aboue thee, but be not affraid of greatnesse: Some
    1150are become great, some atcheeues greatnesse, and some
    haue greatnesse thrust vppon em. Thy fates open theyr
    hands, let thy blood and spirit embrace them, and to in-
    vre thy selfe to what thou art like to be: cast thy humble
    slough, and appeare fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman,
    1155surly with seruants: Let thy tongue tang arguments of
    state; put thy selfe into the tricke of singularitie. Shee
    thus aduises thee, that sighes for thee. Remember who
    commended thy yellow stockings, and wish'd to see thee
    euer crosse garter'd: I say remember, goe too, thou art
    1160made if thou desir'st to be so: If not, let me see thee a ste-
    ward still, the fellow of seruants, and not woorthie to
    touch Fortunes fingers Farewell, Shee that would alter
    seruices with thee, tht fortunate vnhappy daylight and
    champian discouers not more: This is open, I will bee
    1165proud, I will reade politicke Authours, I will baffle Sir
    Toby, I will wash off grosse acquaintance, I will be point
    deuise, the very man. I do not now foole my selfe, to let
    imagination iade mee; for euery reason excites to this,
    that my Lady loues me. She did commend my yellow
    1170stockings of late, shee did praise my legge being crosse-
    garter'd, and in this she manifests her selfe to my loue, &
    with a kinde of iniunction driues mee to these habites of
    her liking. I thanke my starres, I am happy: I will bee
    strange, stout, in yellow stockings, and crosse Garter'd,
    1175euen with the swiftnesse of putting on. Ioue, and my
    starres be praised. Heere is yet a postscript. Thou canst
    not choose but know who I am. If thou entertainst my loue, let
    it appeare in thy smiling, thy smiles become thee well. There-
    fore in my presence still smile, deero my sweete, I prethee. Ioue
    1180I thanke thee, I will smile, I wil do euery thing that thou
    wilt haue me.
    Fab. I will not giue my part of this sport for a pensi-
    on of thousands to be paid from the Sophy.
    To. I could marry this wench for this deuice.
    1185An. So could I too.
    To. And aske no other dowry with her, but such ano-
    ther iest.
    Enter Maria.
    An. Nor I neither.
    1190Fab. Heere comes my noble gull catcher.
    To. Wilt thou set thy foote o'my necke.
    An. Or o'mine either?
    To. Shall I play my freedome at tray-trip, and becom
    thy bondslaue?
    1195An. Ifaith, or I either?
    Tob. Why, thou hast put him in such a dreame, that
    when the image of it leaues him, he must run mad.
    Ma. Nay but say true, do's it worke vpon him?
    To. Like Aqua vite with a Midwife.
    1200Mar. If you will then see the fruites of the sport, mark
    his first approach before my Lady: hee will come to her
    in yellow stockings, and 'tis a colour she abhorres, and
    crosse garter'd, a fashion shee detests: and hee will smile
    vpon her, which will now be so vnsuteable to her dispo-
    1205sition, being addicted to a melancholly, as shee is, that it
    cannot but turn him into a notable contempt: if you wil
    see it follow me.
    To. To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent diuell
    of wit.
    1210And. Ile make one too.
    Finis Actus secundus

    Actus Tertius, Scaena prima.

    Enter Viola and Clowne.

    Vio. Saue thee Friend and thy Musick: dost thou liue
    1215by thy Tabor?
    Clo. No sir, I liue by the Church.
    Vio. Art thou a Churchman?
    Clo. No such matter sir, I do liue by the Church: For,
    I do liue at my house, and my house dooth stand by the
    Vio. So thou maist say the Kings lyes by a begger, if a
    begger dwell neer him: or the Church stands by thy Ta-
    bor, if thy Tabor stand by the Church.
    Clo. You haue said sir: To see this age: A sentence is
    1225but a cheu'rill gloue to a good witte, how quickely the
    wrong side may be turn'd outward.
    Vio. Nay that's certaine: they that dally nicely with
    words, may quickely make them wanton.
    Clo. I would therefore my sister had had no name Sir.
    1230Vio. Why man?
    Clo. Why sir, her names a word, and to dallie with
    that word, might make my sister wanton: But indeede,
    words are very Rascals, since bonds disgrac'd them.
    Vio. Thy reason man?
    Twelfe Night, or, What you will.