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 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. 273
    1235Clo. Troth sir, I can yeeld you none without wordes,
    and wordes are growne so false, I am loath to proue rea-
    son with them.
    Vio. I warrant thou art a merry fellow, and car'st for
    1240Clo. Not so sir, I do care for something: but in my con-
    science sir, I do not care for you: if that be to care for no-
    thing sir, I would it would make you inuisible.
    Vio. Art not thou the Lady Oliuia's foole?
    Clo. No indeed sir, the Lady Oliuia has no folly, shee
    1245will keepe no foole sir, till she be married, and fooles are
    as like husbands, as Pilchers are to Herrings, the Hus-
    bands the bigger, I am indeede not her foole, but hir cor-
    rupter of words.
    Vio. I saw thee late at the Count Orsino's.
    1250Clo. Foolery sir, does walke about the Orbe like the
    Sun, it shines euery where. I would be sorry sir, but the
    Foole should be as oft with your Master, as with my Mi-
    stris: I thinke I saw your wisedome there.
    Vio. Nay, and thou passe vpon me, Ile no more with
    1255thee. Hold there's expences for thee.
    Clo. Now Ioue in his next commodity of hayre, send
    thee a beard.
    Vio. By my troth Ile tell thee, I am almost sicke for
    one, though I would not haue it grow on my chinne. Is
    1260thy Lady within?
    Clo Would not a paire of these haue bred sir?
    Vio. Yes being kept together, and put to vse.
    Clo. I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia sir, to bring
    a Cressida to this Troylus.
    1265Vio. I vnderstand you sir, tis well begg'd.
    Clo. The matter I hope is not great sir; begging, but a
    begger: Cressida was a begger. My Lady is within sir. I
    will conster to them whence you come, who you are, and
    what you would are out of my welkin, I might say Ele-
    1270ment, but the word is ouer-worne. exit
    Vio. This fellow is wise enough to play the foole,
    And to do that well, craues a kinde of wit:
    He must obserue their mood on whom he iests,
    The quality of persons, and the time:
    1275And like the Haggard, checke at euery Feather
    That comes before his eye. This isa practice,
    As full of labour as a Wise-mans Art:
    For folly that he wisely shewes, is fit;
    But wisemens folly falne, quite taint their wit.
    1280Enter Sir Toby and Andrew.
    To. Saue you Gentleman.
    Vio. And you sir.
    And. Dieu vou guard Monsieur.
    Vio. Et vouz ousie vostre seruiture.
    1285An. I hope sir, you are, and I am yours.
    To. Will you incounter the house, my Neece is desi-
    rous you should enter, if your trade be to her.
    Vio. I am bound to your Neece sir, I meane she is the
    list of my voyage.
    1290To. Taste your legges sir, put them to motion.
    Vio. My legges do better vnderstand me sir, then I vn-
    derstand what you meane by bidding me taste my legs.
    To. I meane to go sir, to enter.
    Vio. I will answer you with gate and entrance, but we
    1295are preuented.
    Enter Oliuia, and Gentlewoman.
    Most excellent accomplish'd Lady, the heauens raine O-
    dours on you.
    And. That youth's a rare Courtier, raine odours, wel.
    1300Vio. My matter hath no voice Lady, but to your owne
    most pregnant and vouchsafed eare.
    And. Odours, pregnant, and vouchsafed: Ile get 'em
    all three already.
    Ol. Let the Garden doore be shut, and leaue mee to
    1305my hearing. Giue me your hand sir.
    Vio. My dutie Madam, and most humble seruice.
    Ol. What is your name?
    Vio. Cesario is your seruants name, faire Princesse.
    Ol. My seruant sir? 'Twas neuer merry world,
    1310Since lowly feigning was call'd complement:
    y'are seruant to the Count Orsino youth.
    Vio. And he is yours, and his must needs be yours:
    your seruants seruant, is your seruant Madam.
    Ol. For him, I thinke not on him: for his thoughts,
    1315Would they were blankes, rather then fill'd with me.
    Vio. Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts
    On his behalfe.
    Ol. O by your leaue I pray you.
    I bad you neuer speake againe of him;
    1320But would you vndertake another suite
    I had rather heare you, to solicit that,
    Then Musicke from the spheares.
    Vio. Deere Lady.
    Ol. Giue me leaue, beseech you: I did send,
    1325After the last enchantment you did heare,
    A Ring in chace of you. So did I abuse
    My selfe, my seruant, and I feare me you:
    Vnder your hard construction must I sit,
    To force that on you in a shamefull cunning
    1330Which you knew none of yours. What might you think?
    Haue you not set mine Honor at the stake,
    And baited it with all th'vnmuzled thoughts
    That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiuing
    Enough is shewne, a Cipresse, not a bosome,
    1335Hides my heart: so let me heare you speake.
    Vio. I pittie you.
    Ol. That's a degree to loue.
    Vio. No not a grize: for tis a vulgar proofe
    That verie oft we pitty enemies.
    1340Ol. Why then me thinkes 'tis time to smile agen:
    O world, how apt the poore are to be proud?
    If one should be a prey, how much the better
    To fall before the Lion, then the Wolfe?
    Clocke strikes.
    1345The clocke vpbraides me with the waste of time:
    Be not affraid good youth, I will not haue you,
    And yet when wit and youth is come to haruest,
    your wife is like to reape a proper man:
    There lies your way, due West.
    1350Vio. Then Westward hoe:
    Grace and good disposition attend your Ladyship:
    You'l nothing Madam to my Lord, by me:
    Ol. Stay: I prethee tell me what thou thinkst of me?
    Vio. That you do thinke you are not what you are.
    1355Ol. If I thinke so, I thinke the same of you.
    Vio. Then thinke you right: I am not what I am.
    Ol. I would you were, as I would haue you be.
    Vio. Would it be better Madam, then I am?
    I wish it might, for now I am your foole.
    1360Ol. O what a deale of scorne, lookes beautifull?
    In the contempt and anger of his lip,
    A murdrous guilt shewes not it selfe more soone,
    Then loue that would seeme hid: Loues night, is noone.
    Cesario, by the Roses of the Spring,
    1365By maid-hood, honor, truth, and euery thing,
    I loue thee so, that maugre all thy pride,
    Z Nor
    266 Twelfe Night, or, What you will.
    Nor wit, nor reason, can my passion hide:
    Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,
    For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause:
    1370But rather reason thus, with reason fetter;
    Loue sought, is good: but giuen vnsought, is better.
    Vio. By innocence I sweare, and by my youth,
    I haue one heart, one bosome, and one truth,
    And that no woman has, nor neuer none
    1375Shall mistris be of it, saue I alone.
    And so adieu good Madam, neuer more,
    Will I my Masters teares to you deplore.
    Ol. Yet come againe: for thou perhaps mayst moue
    That heart which now abhorres, to like his loue. Exeunt