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)

    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.