Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editors: David Carnegie, Mark Houlahan
Peer Reviewed

Twelfth Night (Folio 1, 1623)

264 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. Exit
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. Exeunt.
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?