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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)

    1520Scoena Quarta.
    Enter Oliuia and Maria.
    Ol. I haue sent after him, he sayes hee'l come:
    How shall I feast him? What bestow of him?
    For youth is bought more oft, then begg'd, or borrow'd.
    1525I speake too loud: Where's Maluolio, he is sad, and ciuill,
    And suites well for a seruant with my fortunes,
    Where is Maluolio?
    Mar. He's comming Madame:
    But in very strange manner. He is sure possest Madam.
    1530Ol. Why what's the matter, does he raue?
    Mar. No Madam, he does nothing but smile: your La-
    dyship were best to haue some guard about you, if hee
    come, for sure the man is tainted in's wits.
    Ol. Go call him hither.
    1535Enter Maluolio.
    I am as madde as hee,
    If sad and merry madnesse equall bee.
    How now Maluolio?
    Mal. Sweet Lady, ho, ho.
    1540Ol. Smil'st thou? I sent for thee vpon a sad occasion.
    Mal. Sad Lady, I could be sad:
    This does make some obstruction in the blood:
    This crosse-gartering, but what of that?
    If it please the eye of one, it is with me as the very true
    1545Sonnet is: Please one, and please all.
    Mal. Why how doest thou man?
    What is the matter with thee?
    Mal. Not blacke in my minde, though yellow in my
    legges: It did come to his hands, and Commaunds shall
    1550be executed. I thinke we doe know the sweet Romane
    hand.
    Ol. Wilt thou go to bed Maluolio?
    Mal. To bed? I sweet heart, and Ile come to thee.
    Ol. God comfort thee: Why dost thou smile so, and
    1555kisse thy hand so oft?
    Mar. How do you Maluolio?
    Maluo. At your request:
    Yes Nightingales answere Dawes.
    Mar. Why appeare you with this ridiculous bold-
    1560nesse before my Lady.
    Mal. Be not afraid of greatnesse: 'twas well writ.
    Ol. What meanst thou by that Maluolio?
    Mal. Some are borne great.
    Ol. Ha?
    1565Mal. Some atcheeue greatnesse.
    Ol. What sayst thou?
    Mal. And some haue greatnesse thrust vpon them.
    Ol. Heauen restore thee.
    Mal. Remember who commended thy yellow stock-
    1570ings.
    Ol. Thy yellow stockings?
    Mal. And wish'd to see thee crosse garter'd.
    Ol. Crosse garter'd?
    Mal. Go too, thou art made, if thou desir'st to be so.
    1575Ol. Am I made?
    Mal. If not, ler me see thee a seruant still.
    Ol. Why this is verie Midsommer madnesse.
    Enter Seruant.
    Ser. Madame, the young Gentleman of the Count
    1580Orsino's is return'd, I could hardly entreate him backe: he
    attends your Ladyships pleasure.
    Ol. Ile come to him.
    Good Maria, let this fellow be look d too. Where's my
    Cosine Toby, let some of my people haue a speciall care
    1585of him, I would not haue him miscarrie for the halfe of
    my Dowry. exit
    Mal. Oh ho, do you come neere me now: no worse
    man then sir Toby to looke to me. This concurres direct-
    ly with the Letter, she sends him on purpose, that I may
    1590appeare stubborne to him: for she incites me to that in
    the Letter. Cast thy humble slough sayes she: be oppo-
    site with a Kinsman, surly with seruants, let thy tongue
    langer with arguments of state, put thy selfe into the
    tricke of singularity: and consequently setts downe the
    1595manner how: as a sad face, a reuerend carriage, a slow
    tongue, in the habite of some Sir of note, and so foorth.
    I haue lymde her, but it is Ioues doing, and Ioue make me
    thankefull. And when she went away now, let this Fel-
    low be look'd too: Fellow? not Maluolio, nor after my
    1600degree, but Fellow. Why euery thing adheres togither,
    that no dramme of a scruple, no scruple of a scruple, no
    obstacle, no incredulous or vnsafe circumstance: What
    can be saide? Nothing that can be, can come betweene
    me, and the full prospect of my hopes. Well Ioue, not I,
    1605is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked.
    Enter Toby, Fabian, and Maria.
    Z2 To.
    268 Twelfe Night, or, What you will.
    To. Which way is hee in the name of sanctity. If all
    the diuels of hell be drawne in little, and Legion himselfe
    possest him, yet Ile speake to him.
    1610Fab. Heere he is, heere he is: how ist with you sir?
    How ist with you man?
    Mal. Go off, I discard you: let me enioy my priuate:
    go off.
    Mar. Lo, how hollow the fiend speakes within him;
    1615did not I tell you? Sir Toby, my Lady prayes you to haue
    a care of him.
    Mal. Ah ha, does she so?
    To. Go too, go too: peace, peace, wee must deale
    gently with him: Let me alone. How do you Maluolio?
    1620How ist with you? What man, defie the diuell: consider,
    he's an enemy to mankinde.
    Mal. Do you know what you say?
    Mar. La you, and you speake ill of the diuell, how
    he takes it at heart. Pray God he be not bewitch'd.
    1625Fab. Carry his water to th'wise woman.
    Mar. Marry and it shall be done to morrow morning
    if I liue. My Lady would not loose him for more then ile
    say.
    Mal. How now mistris?
    1630Mar. Oh Lord.
    To. Prethee hold thy peace, this is not the way: Doe
    you not see you moue him? Let me alone with him.
    Fa. No way but gentlenesse, gently, gently: the Fiend
    is rough, and will not be roughly vs'd.
    1635To. Why how now my bawcock? how dost yu chuck?
    Mal. Sir.
    To. I biddy, come with me. What man, tis not for
    grauity to play at cherrie-pit with sathan Hang him foul
    Colliar.
    1640Mar. Get him to say his prayers, good sir Toby gette
    him to pray.
    Mal. My prayers Minx.
    Mar. No I warrant you, he will not heare of godly-
    nesse.
    1645Mal. Go hang your selues all: you are ydle shallowe
    things, I am not of your element, you shall knowe more
    heereafter. Exit
    To. Ist possible?
    Fa. If this were plaid vpon a stage now, I could con-
    1650demne it as an improbable fiction.
    To. His very genius hath taken the infection of the
    deuice man.
    Mar. Nay pursue him now, least the deuice take ayre,
    and taint.
    1655Fa. Why we shall make him mad indeede.
    Mar. The house will be the quieter.
    To. Come, wee'l haue him in a darke room & bound.
    My Neece is already in the beleefe that he's mad: we may
    carry it thus for our pleasure, and his pennance, til our ve-
    1660ry pastime tyred out of breath, prompt vs to haue mercy
    on him: at which time, we wil bring the deuice to the bar
    and crowne thee for a finder of madmen: but see, but see.
    Enter Sir Andrew.
    Fa. More matter for a May morning.
    1665An. Heere's the Challenge, reade it: I warrant there's
    vinegar and pepper in't.
    Fab. Ist so sawcy?
    And. I, ist? I warrant him: do but read.
    To. Giue me.
    1670Youth, whatsoeuer thou art, thou art but a scuruy fellow.
    Fa. Good, and valiant.
    To. Wonder not, nor admire not in thy minde why I doe call
    thee so, for I will shew thee no reason for't.
    Fa. A good note, that keepes you from the blow of ye(Law
    1675To. Thou comst to the Lady Oliuia, and in my sight she vses
    thee kindly: but thou lyest in thy throat, that is not the matter
    I challenge thee for.
    Fa. Very breefe, and to exceeding good sence-lesse.
    To. I will way-lay thee going home, where if it be thy chance
    1680to kill me.
    Fa. Good.
    To. Thou kilst me like a rogue and a villaine.
    Fa. Still you keepe o'th windie side of the Law: good.
    Tob. Fartheewell, and God haue mercie vpon one of our
    1685soules. He may haue mercie vpon mine, but my hope is better,
    and so looke to thy selfe. Thy friend as thou vsest him, & thy
    sworne enemie, Andrew Ague-cheeke.
    To. If this Letter moue him not, his legges cannot:
    Ile giu't him.
    1690Mar. Yon may haue verie fit occasion fot't: he is now
    in some commerce with my Ladie, and will by and by
    depart.
    To. Go sir Andrew: scout mee for him at the corner
    of the Orchard like a bum-Baylie: so soone as euer thou
    1695seest him, draw, and as thou draw'st, sweare horrible: for
    t comes to passe oft, that a terrible oath, with a swagge-
    ring accent sharpely twang'd off, giues manhoode more
    approbation, then euer proofe it selfe would haue earn'd
    him. Away.
    1700And. Nay let me alone for swearing. Exit
    To. Now will not I deliuer his Letter: for the behaui-
    our of the yong Gentleman, giues him out to be of good
    capacity, and breeding: his employment betweene his
    Lord and my Neece, confirmes no lesse. Therefore, this
    1705Letter being so excellently ignorant, will breed no terror
    in the youth: he will finde it comes from a Clodde-pole.
    But sir, I will deliuer his Challenge by word of mouth;
    set vpon Ague-cheeke a notable report of valor, and driue
    the Gentleman (as I know his youth will aptly receiue it)
    1710into a most hideous opinion of his rage, skill, furie, and
    impetuositie. This will so fright them both, that they wil
    kill one another by the looke, like Cockatrices.
    Enter Oliuia and Viola.
    Fab. Heere he comes with your Neece, giue them way
    1715till he take leaue, and presently after him.
    To. I wil meditate the while vpon some horrid message
    for a Challenge.
    Ol. I haue said too much vnto a hart of stone,
    And laid mine honour too vnchary on't:
    1720There's something in me that reproues my fault:
    But such a head-strong potent fault it is,
    That it but mockes reproofe.
    Vio. With the same hauiour that your passion beares,
    Goes on my Masters greefes.
    1725Ol. Heere, weare this Iewell for me, tis my picture:
    Refuse it not, it hath no tongue, to vex you:
    And I beseech you come againe to morrow.
    What shall you aske of me that Ile deny,
    That honour (sau'd) may vpon asking giue.
    1730Vio. Nothing but this, your true loue for my master.
    Ol. How with mine honor may I giue him that,
    Which I haue giuen to you.
    Vio. I will acquit you.
    Ol. Well. come againe to morrow: far-thee-well,
    1735A Fiend like thee might beare my soule to hell.
    Enter Toby and Fabian.
    To. Gentleman, God saue thee.
    Vio.
    Twelfe Night, or, What you will. 269
    Vio. And you sir.
    To. That defence thou hast, betake the too't: of what
    1740nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I knowe not:
    but thy intercepter full of despight, bloody as the Hun-
    ter, attends thee at the Orchard end: dismount thy tucke,
    be yare in thy preparation, for thy assaylant is quick, skil-
    full, and deadly.
    1745Vio. You mistake sir I am sure, no man hath any quar-
    rell to me: my remembrance is very free and cleere from
    any image of offence done to any man.
    To. You'l finde it otherwise I assure you: therefore, if
    you hold your life at any price, betake you to your gard:
    1750for your opposite hath in him what youth, strength, skill,
    and wrath, can furnish man withall.
    Vio. I pray you sir what is he?
    To. He is knight dubb'd with vnhatch'd Rapier, and
    on carpet consideration, but he is a diuell in priuate brall,
    1755soules and bodies hath he diuorc'd three, and his incense-
    ment at this moment is so implacable, that satisfaction
    can be none, but by pangs of death and sepulcher: Hob,
    nob, is his word: giu't or take't.
    Vio. I will returne againe into the house, and desire
    1760some conduct of the Lady. I am no fighter, I haue heard
    of some kinde of men, that put quarrells purposely on o-
    thers, to taste their valour: belike this is a man of that
    quirke.
    To. Sir, no: his indignation deriues it selfe out of a ve-
    1765ry computent iniurie, therefore get you on, and giue him
    his desire. Backe you shall not to the house, vnlesse you
    vndertake that with me, which with as much safetie you
    might answer him: therefore on, or strippe your sword
    starke naked: for meddle you must that's certain, or for-
    1770sweare to weare iron about you.
    Vio. This is as vnciuill as strange. I beseech you doe
    me this courteous office, as to know of the Knight what
    my offence to him is: it is something of my negligence,
    nothing of my purpose.
    1775To. I will doe so. Signiour Fabian, stay you by this
    Gentleman, till my returne. Exit Toby.
    Vio. Pray you sir, do you know of this matter?
    Fab. I know the knight is incenst against you, euen to
    a mortall arbitrement, but nothing of the circumstance
    1780more.
    Vio. I beseech you what manner of man is he?
    Fab. Nothing of that wonderfull promise to read him
    by his forme, as you are like to finde him in the proofe of
    his valour. He is indeede sir, the most skilfull, bloudy, &
    1785fatall opposite that you could possibly haue found in anie
    part of Illyria: will you walke towards him, I will make
    your peace with him, if I can.
    Vio. I shall bee much bound to you for't: I am one,
    that had rather go with sir Priest, then sir knight: I care
    1790not who knowes so much of my mettle. Exeunt.
    Enter Toby and Andrew.
    To. Why man hee s a verie diuell, I haue not seen such
    a firago: I had a passe with him, rapier, scabberd, and all:
    and he giues me the stucke in with such a mortall motion
    1795that it is ineuitable: and on the answer, he payes you as
    surely, as your feete hits the ground they step on. They
    say, he has bin Fencer to the Sophy.
    And. Pox on't, Ile not meddle with him.
    To. I but he will not now be pacified,
    1800Fabian can scarse hold him yonder.
    An. Plague on't, and I thought he had beene valiant,
    and so cunning in Fence, I'de haue seene him damn'd ere
    I'de haue challeng'd him. Let him let the matter slip, and
    Ile giue him my horse, gray Capilet.
    1805To. Ile make the motion: stand heere, make a good
    shew on't, this shall end without the perdition of soules,
    marry Ile ride your horse as well as I ride you.
    Enter Fabian and Viola.
    I haue his horse to take vp the quarrell, I haue perswaded
    1810him the youths a diuell.
    Fa. He is as horribly conceited of him: and pants, &
    lookes pale, as if a Beare were at his heeles.
    To. There's no remedie sir, he will fight with you for's
    oath sake: marrie hee hath better bethought him of his
    1815quarrell, and hee findes that now scarse to bee worth tal-
    king of: therefore draw for the supportance of his vowe,
    he protests he will not hurt you.
    Vio. Pray God defend me: a little thing would make
    me tell them how much I lacke of a man.
    1820Fab. Giue ground if you see him furious.
    To. Come sir Andrew, there's no remedie, the Gen-
    tleman will for his honors sake haue one bowt with you:
    he cannot by the Duello auoide it: but hee has promised
    me, as he is a Gentleman and a Soldiour, he will not hurt
    1825you. Come on, too't.
    And. Pray God he keepe his oath.
    Enter Antonio.
    Vio. I do assure you tis against my will.
    Ant. Put vp your sword: if this yong Gentleman
    1830Haue done offence, I take the fault on me:
    If you offend him, I for him defie you.
    To. You sir? Why, what are you?
    Ant. One sir, that for his loue dares yet do more
    Then you haue heard him brag to you he will.
    1835To. Nay, if you be an vndertaker, I am for you.
    Enter Officers.
    Fab. O good sir Toby hold: heere come the Officers.
    To. Ile be with you anon.
    Vio. Pray sir, put your sword vp if you please.
    1840And. Marry will I sir: and for that I promis'd you Ile
    be as good as my word. Hee will beare you easily, and
    raines well.
    1. Off. This is the man, do thy Office.
    2. Off. Anthonio, I arrest thee at the suit of Count Orsino
    1845An. You do mistake me sir.
    1. Off. No sir, no iot: I know your fauour well:
    Though now you haue no sea-cap on your head:
    Take him away, he knowes I know him well.
    Ant. I must obey. This comes with seeking you:
    1850But there's no remedie, I shall answer it:
    What will you do: now my necessitie
    Makes me to aske you for my purse. It greeues mee
    Much more, for what I cannot do for you,
    Then what befals my selfe: you stand amaz'd,
    1855But be of comfort.
    2. Off. Come sir away.
    Ant. I must entreat of you some of that money.
    Vio. What money sir?
    For the fayre kindnesse you haue shew'd me heere,
    1860And part being prompted by your present trouble,
    Out of my leane and low ability
    Ile lend you something: my hauing is not much,
    Ile make diuision of my present with you:
    Hold, there's halfe my Coffer.
    1865Ant. Will you deny me now,
    Ist possible that my deserts to you
    Can lacke perswasion. Do not tempt my misery,
    Least that it make me so vnsound a man
    As to vpbraid you with those kindnesses
    Z3 That
    270 Twelfe Night, or, What you will.
    1870That I haue done for you.
    Vio. I know of none,
    Nor know I you by voyce, or any feature:
    I hate ingratitude more in a man,
    Then lying, vainnesse, babling drunkennesse,
    1875Or any taint of vice, whose strong corruption
    Inhabites our fraile blood.
    Ant. Oh heauens themselues.
    2. Off. Come sir, I pray you go.
    Ant. Let me speake a little. This youth that you see (heere,
    1880I snatch'd one halfe out of the iawes of death,
    Releeu'd him with such sanctitie of Ioue;
    And to his image, which me thought did promise
    Most venerable worth, did I deuotion.
    1. Off. What's that to vs, the time goes by: Away.
    1885Ant. But oh, how vilde an idoll proues this God:
    Thou hast Sebastian done good feature, shame.
    In Nature, there's no blemish but the minde:
    None can be call'd deform'd, but the vnkinde.
    Vertue is beauty, but the beauteous euill
    1890Are empty trunkes, ore-flourish'd by the deuill.
    1. Off. The man growes mad, away with him:
    Come, come sir.
    Ant. Leade me on. Exit
    Vio. Me thinkes his words do from such passion flye
    1895That he beleeues himselfe, so do not I:
    Proue true imagination, oh proue ttue,
    That I deere brother, be now tane for you.
    To. Come hither Knight, come hither Fabian: Weel
    whisper ore a couplet or two of most sage sawes.
    1900Vio. He nam'd Sebastian: I my brother know
    Yet liuing in my glasse: euen such, and so
    In fauour was my Brother, and he went
    Still in this fashion, colour, ornament,
    For him I imitate: Oh if it proue,
    1905Tempests are kinde, and salt waues fresh in loue.
    To. A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward
    then a Hare, his dishonesty appeares, in leauing his frend
    heere in necessity, and denying him: and for his coward-
    ship aske Fabian.
    1910Fab. A Coward, a most deuout Coward, religious in
    it.
    And. Slid Ile after him againe, and beate him.
    To. Do, cuffe him soundly, but neuer draw thy sword
    And. And I do not.
    1915Fab. Come, let's see the euent.
    To. I dare lay any money, twill be nothing yet. Exit
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