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)

    Scoena Secunda.
    1985Enter Maria and Clowne.
    Mar. Nay, I prethee put on this gown, & this beard,
    make him beleeue thou art sir Topas the Curate, doe it
    quickly. Ile call sir Toby the whilst.
    Clo. Well, Ile put it on, and I will dissemble my selfe
    1990in't, and I would I were the first that euer dissembled in
    such
    Twelfe Night, or, What you will. 271
    in such a gowne. I am not tall enough to become the
    function well, nor leane enough to bee thought a good
    Studient: but to be said an honest man and a good hous-
    keeper goes as fairely, as to say, a carefull man, & a great
    1995scholler. The Competitors enter.
    Enter Toby.
    To. Ioue blesse thee M. Parson.
    Clo. Bonos dies sir Toby: for as the old hermit of Prage
    that neuer saw pen and inke, very wittily sayd to a Neece
    2000of King Gorbodacke, that that is, is: so I being M. Parson,
    am M. Parson; for what is that, but that? and is, but is?
    To. To him sir Topas.
    Clow. What hoa, I say, Peace in this prison.
    To. The knaue counterfets well: a good knaue.
    2005Maluolio within.
    Mal. Who cals there?
    Clo. Sir Topas the Curate, who comes to visit Maluo-
    lio the Lunaticke.
    Mal. Sir Topas, sir Topas, good sir Topas goe to my
    2010Ladie.
    Clo. Out hyperbolicall fiend, how vexest thou this
    man? Talkest thou nothing but of Ladies?
    Tob. Well said M. Parson.
    Mal. Sir Topas, neuer was man thus wronged, good
    2015sir Topas do not thinke I am mad: they haue layde mee
    heere in hideous darknesse.
    Clo. Fye, thou dishonest sathan: I call thee by the
    most modest termes, for I am one of those gentle ones,
    that will vse the diuell himselfe with curtesie: sayst thou
    2020that house is darke?
    Mal. As hell sir Topas.
    Clo. Why it hath bay Windowes transparant as bari-
    cadoes, and the cleere stores toward the South north, are
    as lustrous as Ebony: and yet complainest thou of ob-
    2025struction?
    Mal. I am not mad sir Topas, I say to you this house is
    darke.
    Clo. Madman thou errest: I say there is no darknesse
    but ignorance, in which thou art more puzel'd then the
    2030AEgyptians in their fogge.
    Mal. I say this house is as darke as Ignorance, thogh
    Ignorance were as darke as hell; and I say there was ne-
    uer man thus abus'd, I am no more madde then you are,
    make the triall of it in any constant question.
    2035Clo. What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning
    Wilde-fowle?
    Mal. That the soule of our grandam, might happily
    inhabite a bird.
    Clo. What thinkst thou of his opinion?
    2040Mal. I thinke nobly of the soule, and no way aproue
    his opinion.
    Clo. Fare thee well: remaine thou still in darkenesse,
    thou shalt hold th'opinion of Pythagoras, ere I will allow
    of thy wits, and feare to kill a Woodcocke, lest thou dis-
    2045possesse the soule of thy grandam. Fare thee well.
    Mal. Sir Topas, sir Topas.
    Tob. My most exquisite sir Topas.
    Clo. Nay I am for all waters.
    Mar. Thou mightst haue done this without thy berd
    2050and gowne, he sees thee not.
    To. To him in thine owne voyce, and bring me word
    how thou findst him: I would we were well ridde of this
    knauery. If he may bee conueniently deliuer'd, I would
    he were, for I am now so farre in offence with my Niece,
    2055that I cannot pursue with any safety this sport the vppe-
    shot. Come by and by to my Chamber. Exit
    Clo. Hey Robin, iolly Robin, tell me how thy Lady
    does.
    Mal. Foole.
    2060Clo. My Lady is vnkind, perdie.
    Mal. Foole.
    Clo. Alas why is she so?
    Mal. Foole, I say.
    Clo. She loues another. Who calles, ha?
    2065Mal. Good foole, as euer thou wilt deserue well at
    my hand, helpe me to a Candle, and pen, inke, and paper:
    as I am a Gentleman, I will liue to bee thankefull to thee
    for't.
    Clo. M. Maluolio?
    2070Mal. I good Foole.
    Clo. Alas sir, how fell you besides your fiue witts?
    Mall. Foole, there was neuer man so notoriouslie a-
    bus'd: I am as well in my wits (foole) as thou art.
    Clo. But as well: then you are mad indeede, if you be
    2075no better in your wits then a foole.
    Mal. They haue heere propertied me: keepe mee in
    darkenesse, send Ministers to me, Asses, and doe all they
    can to face me out of my wits.
    Clo. Aduise you what you say: the Minister is heere.
    2080 Maluolio, Maluolio, thy wittes the heauens restore: en-
    deauour thy selfe to sleepe, and leaue thy vaine bibble
    babble.
    Mal. Sir Topas.
    Clo. Maintaine no words with him good fellow.
    2085Who I sir, not I sir. God buy you good sir Topas: Mar-
    ry Amen. I will sir, I will.
    Mal. Foole, foole, foole I say.
    Clo. Alas sir be patient. What say you sir, I am shent
    for speaking to you.
    2090Mal. Good foole, helpe me to some light, and some
    paper, I tell thee I am as well in my wittes, as any man in
    Illyria.
    Clo. Well-a-day, that you were sir.
    Mal. By this hand I am: good foole, some inke, pa-
    2095per, and light: and conuey what I will set downe to my
    Lady: it shall aduantage thee more, then euer the bea-
    ring of Letter did.
    Clo. I will help you too't. But tel me true, are you not
    mad indeed, or do you but counterfeit.
    2100Mal. Beleeue me I am not, I tell thee true.
    Clo. Nay, Ile nere beleeue a madman till I see his brains
    I will fetch you light, and paper, and inke.
    Mal. Foole, Ile requite it in the highest degree:
    I prethee be goue.
    2105Clo. I am gone sir, and anon sir,
    Ile be with you againe:
    In a trice, like to the old vice,
    your neede to sustaine.
    Who with dagger of lath, in his rage and his wrath,
    2110cries ah ha, to the diuell:
    Like a mad lad, paire thy nayles dad,
    Adieu good man diuell. Exit