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  • 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. 263
    Can bide the beating of so strong a passion,
    As loue doth giue my heart: no womans heart
    So bigge, to hold so much, they lacke retention.
    Alas, their loue may be call'd appetite,
    985No motion of the Liuer, but the Pallat,
    That suffer surfet, cloyment, and reuolt,
    But mine is all as hungry as the Sea,
    And can digest as much, make no compare
    Betweene that loue a woman can beare me,
    990And that I owe Oliuia.
    Vio. I but I know.
    Du. What dost thou knowe?
    Vio. Too well what loue women to men may owe:
    In faith they are as true of heart, as we.
    995My Father had a daughter lou'd a man
    As it might be perhaps, were I a woman
    I should your Lordship.
    Du. And what's her history?
    Vio. A blanke my Lord: she neuer told her loue,
    1000But let concealment like a worme i'th budde
    Feede on her damaske cheeke: she pin'd in thought,
    And with a greene and yellow melancholly,
    She sate like Patience on a Monument,
    Smiling at greefe. Was not this loue indeede?
    1005We men may say more, sweare more, but indeed
    Our shewes are more then will: for still we proue
    Much in our vowes, but little in our loue.
    Du. But di'de thy sister of her loue my Boy?
    Vio. I am all the daughters of my Fathers house,
    1010And all the brothers too: and yet I know not.
    Sir, shall I to this Lady?
    Du. I that's the Theame,
    To her in haste: giue her this Iewell: say,
    My loue can giue no place, bide no denay. exeunt

    1015Scena Quinta.

    Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian.
    To. Come thy wayes Signior Fabian.
    Fab. Nay Ile come: if I loose a scruple of this sport,
    let me be boyl'd to death with Melancholly.
    1020To. Wouldst thou not be glad to haue the niggard-
    ly Rascally sheepe-biter, come by some notable shame?
    Fa. I would exult man: you know he brought me out
    o'fauour with my Lady, about a Beare-baiting heere.
    To. To anger him wee'l haue the Beare againe, and
    1025we will foole him blacke and blew, shall we not sir An-
    drew?
    An. And we do not, it is pittie of our liues.
    Enter Maria.
    To. Heere comes the little villaine: How now my
    1030Mettle of India?
    Mar. Get ye all three into the box tree: Maluolio's
    comming downe this walke, he has beene yonder i'the
    Sunne practising behauiour to his own shadow this halfe
    houre: obserue him for the loue of Mockerie: for I know
    1035this Letter wil make a contemplatiue Ideot of him. Close
    in the name of ieasting, lye thou there: for heere comes
    the Trowt, that must be caught with tickling. Exit
    Enter Maluolio.
    Mal. 'Tis but Fortune, all is fortune. Maria once
    1040told me she did affect me, and I haue heard her self come
    thus neere, that should shee fancie, it should bee one of
    my complection. Besides she vses me with a more ex-
    alted respect, then any one else that followes her. What
    should I thinke on't?
    1045To. Heere's an ouer-weening rogue.
    Fa. Oh peace: Contemplation makes a rare Turkey
    Cocke of him, how he iets vnder his aduanc'd plumes.
    And. Slight I could so beate the Rogue.
    To. Peace I say.
    1050Mal. To be Count Maluolio.
    To. Ah Rogue.
    An. Pistoll him, pistoll him.
    To. Peace, peace.
    Mal. There is example for't: The Lady of the Stra-
    1055chy, married the yeoman of the wardrobe.
    An. Fie on him Iezabel.
    Fa. O peace, now he's deepely in: looke how imagi-
    nation blowes him.
    Mal. Hauing beene three moneths married to her,
    1060sitting in my state.
    To. O for a stone-bow to hit him in the eye.
    Mal. Calling my Officers about me, in my branch'd
    Veluet gowne: hauing come from a day bedde, where I
    haue left Oliuia sleeping.
    1065To. Fire and Brimstone.
    Fa. O peace, peace.
    Mal. And then to haue the humor of state: and after
    a demure trauaile of regard: telling them I knowe my
    place, as I would they should doe theirs: to aske for my
    1070kinsman Toby.
    To. Boltes and shackles.
    Fa. Oh peace, peace, peace, now, now.
    Mal. Seauen of my people with an obedient start,
    make out for him: I frowne the while, and perchance
    1075winde vp my watch, or play with my some rich Iewell:
    Toby approaches; curtsies there to me.
    To. Shall this fellow liue?
    Fa. Though our silence be drawne from vs with cars,
    yet peace.
    1080Mal. I extend my hand to him thus: quenching my
    familiar smile with an austere regard of controll.
    To. And do's not Toby take you a blow o'the lippes,
    then?
    Mal. Saying, Cosine Toby, my Fortunes hauing cast
    1085me on your Neece, giue me this prerogatiue of speech.
    To. What, what?
    Mal. You must amend your drunkennesse.
    To. Out scab.
    Fab. Nay patience, or we breake the sinewes of our
    1090plot?
    Mal. Besides you waste the treasure of your time,
    with a foolish knight.
    And. That's mee I warrant you.
    Mal. One sir Andrew.
    1095And. I knew 'twas I, for many do call mee foole.
    Mal. What employment haue we heere?
    Fa. Now is the Woodcocke neere the gin.
    To. Oh peace, and the spirit of humors intimate rea-
    ding aloud to him.
    1100Mal. By my life this is my Ladies hand: these bee her
    very C's, her V's, and her T's, and thus makes shee her
    great P's. It is in contempt of question her hand.
    An. Her C's, her V's, and her T's: why that?
    Mal. To the vnknowne belou'd, this, and my good Wishes:
    1105Her very Phrases: By your leaue wax. Soft, and the im-
    pressure her Lucrece, with which she vses to seale: tis my
    Lady: To whom should this be?
    Fab. This winnes him, Liuer and all.
    Mal.
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