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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.
    Fate, shew thy force, our selues we do not owe,
    What is decreed, must be: and be this so.
    Finis, Actus primus.

    Actus Secundus, Scaena prima.

    Enter Antonio & Sebastian.
    Ant. Will you stay no longer: nor will you not that
    I go with you.
    Seb. By your patience, no: my starres shine darkely
    615ouer me; the malignancie of my fate, might perhaps di-
    stemper yours; therefore I shall craue of you your leaue,
    that I may beare my euils alone. It were a bad recom-
    pence for your loue, to lay any of them on you.
    An. Let me yet know of you, whither you are bound.
    620Seb. No sooth sir: my determinate voyage is meere
    extrauagancie. But I perceiue in you so excellent a touch
    of modestie, that you will not extort from me, what I am
    willing to keepe in: therefore it charges me in manners,
    the rather to expresse my selfe: you must know of mee
    625then Antonio, my name is Sebastian (which I call'd Rodo-
    rigo) my father was that Sebastian of Messaline, whom I
    know you haue heard of. He left behinde him, my selfe,
    and a sister, both borne in an houre: if the Heanens had
    beene pleas'd, would we had so ended. But you sir, al-
    630ter'd that, for some houre before you tooke me from the
    breach of the sea, was my sister drown'd.
    Ant. Alas the day.
    Seb. A Lady sir, though it was said shee much resem-
    bled me, was yet of many accounted beautiful: but thogh
    635I could not with such estimable wonder ouer-farre be-
    leeue that, yet thus farre I will boldly publish her, shee
    bore a minde that enuy could not but call faire: Shee is
    drown'd already sir with salt water, though I seeme to
    drowne her remembrance againe with more.
    640Ant. Pardon me sir, your bad entertainment.
    Seb. O good Antonio, forgiue me your trouble.
    Ant. If you will not murther me for my loue, let mee
    be your seruant.
    Seb. If you will not vndo what you haue done, that is
    645kill him, whom you haue recouer'd, desire it not. Fare
    ye well at once, my bosome is full of kindnesse, and I
    am yet so neere the manners of my mother, that vpon the
    least occasion more, mine eyes will tell tales of me: I am
    bound to the Count Orsino's Court, farewell.
    650Ant. The gentlenesse of all the gods go with thee:
    I haue many enemies in Orsino's Court,
    Else would I very shortly see thee there:
    But come what may, I do adore thee so,
    That danger shall seeme sport, and I will go.

    Scæna Secunda.

    Enter Viola and Maluolio, at seuerall doores.
    Mal. Were not you eu'n now, with the Countesse O-
    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.
    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.

    Scœna Tertia.

    Enter Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew.
    700To. Approach Sir Andrew: not to bee a bedde after
    midnight, is to be vp betimes, and Deliculo surgere, thou
    And. Nay by my troth I know not: but I know, to
    be vp late, is to be vp late.
    705To. A false conclusion: I hate it as an vnfill'd Canne.
    To be vp after midnight, and to go to bed then is early:
    so that to go to bed after midnight, is to goe to bed be-
    times. Does not our liues consist of the foure Ele-
    710And. Faith so they say, but I thinke it rather consists
    of eating and drinking.
    To. Th'art a scholler; let vs therefore eate and drinke.
    Marian I say, a stoope of wine.
    Enter Clowne.
    715And. Heere comes the foole yfaith.
    Clo. How now my harts: Did you neuer see the Pic-
    ture of we three?
    To. Welcome asse, now let's haue a catch.
    And. By my troth the foole has an excellent breast. I
    720had rather then forty shillings I had such a legge, and so
    sweet a breath to sing, as the foole has. Insooth 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 yfaith: I sent thee sixe pence
    Twelfe Night, or, What you will.