Twelfth Night

Select or Print the text

Original text
Act IV, Scene I
Enter Sebastian and Clowne.

Clo.
Will you make me beleeue, that I am not sent for
you?

Seb.
Go too, go too, thou art a foolish fellow, / Let me
be cleere of thee.

Clo.
Well held out yfaith: No, I do not know you, nor
I am not sent to you by my Lady, to bid you come speake
with her: nor your name is not Master Cesario, nor this
is not my nose neyther: Nothing that is so, is so.

Seb.
I prethee vent thy folly some-where else, thou
know'st not me.

Clo.
Vent my folly: He has heard that word of some
great man, and now applyes it to a foole. Vent my folly:
I am affraid this great lubber the World will proue a
Cockney: I prethee now vngird thy strangenes, and
tell me what I shall vent to my Lady? Shall I vent to hir
that thou art comming?

Seb.
I prethee foolish greeke depart from me,
there's money for thee, if you tarry longer, I shall giue
worse paiment.

Clo.
By my troth thou hast an open hand: these Wise-
men that giue fooles money, get themselues a good report,
after foureteene yeares purchase.
Enter Andrew, Toby, and Fabian.

And.
Now sir, haue I met you again: ther's
for you.

Seb.
Why there's for thee, and there,
and there, / Are all the people mad?

To.
Hold sir, or Ile throw your dagger ore the
house.

Clo.
This will I tell my Lady straight, I would not be in
some of your coats for two pence.

To.
Come on sir, hold.

An.
Nay let him alone, Ile go another way to
worke with him: Ile haue an action of Battery against
him, if there be any law in Illyria: though I stroke him
first, yet it's no matter for that.

Seb.
Let go thy hand.

To.
Come sir, I will not let you go. Come my
yong souldier put vp your yron: you are well flesh'd:
Come on.

Seb.
I will be free from thee.
What wouldst yu now?
If thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword.

To.
What, what? Nay then I must haue an Ounce
or two of this malapert blood from you.
Enter Oliuia.

Ol.
Hold Toby, on thy life I charge thee hold.

To.
Madam.

Ol.
Will it be euer thus? Vngracious wretch,
Fit for the Mountaines, and the barbarous Caues,
Where manners nere were preach'd: out of my sight.
Be not offended, deere Cesario:
Rudesbey be gone.
I prethee gentle friend,
Let thy fayre wisedome, not thy passion sway
In this vnciuill, and vniust extent
Against thy peace. Go with me to my house,
And heare thou there how many fruitlesse prankes
This Ruffian hath botch'd vp, that thou thereby
Mayst smile at this: Thou shalt not choose but goe:
Do not denie, beshrew his soule for mee,
He started one poore heart of mine, in thee.

Seb.

What rellish is in this? How runs the streame?
Or I am mad, or else this is a dreame:
Let fancie still my sense in Lethe steepe,
If it be thus to dreame, still let me sleepe.

Ol.
Nay come I prethee, would thoud'st be rul'd by me

Seb.
Madam, I will.

Ol.
O say so, and so be.
Exeunt
Original text
Act IV, Scene II
Enter 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 in't,
and I would I were the first that euer dissembled in 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 scholler. 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 of 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.

Maluolio
within.
Who cals there?

Clo.
Sir Topas the Curate, who comes to visit Maluolio
the Lunaticke.

Mal.
Sir Topas, sir Topas, good sir Topas goe to
my Ladie.

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 sir 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 that
house is darke?

Mal.
As hell sir Topas.

Clo.
Why it hath bay Windowes transparant as baricadoes,
and the cleere stores toward the South north,
are as lustrous as Ebony: and yet complainest thou of
obstruction?

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
Agyptians 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 neuer man thus abus'd, I am no more madde then you
are, make the triall of it in any constant question.

Clo.
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?

Mal.
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-possesse
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
and 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,
that I cannot pursue with any safety this sport the vppeshot.
Come by and by to my Chamber.
Exit

Clo.
Hey Robin, iolly Robin,
tell me how thy Lady does.

Mal.
Foole.

Clo.

My Lady is vnkind, perdie.

Mal.
Foole.

Clo.
Alas why is she so?

Mal.
Foole, I say.

Clo.
She loues another.
Who calles, ha?

Mal.
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?

Mal.
I good Foole.

Clo.
Alas sir, how fell you besides your fiue witts?

Mall.
Foole, there was neuer man so notoriouslie
abus'd: I am as well in my wits (foole) as thou art.

Clo.
But as well: then you are mad indeede, if you be
no 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.
Maluolio, Maluolio, thy wittes the
heauens restore: endeauour thy selfe to sleepe, and leaue
thy vaine bibble babble.

Mal.
Sir Topas.

Clo.
Maintaine no words with him good fellow.
Who I sir, not I sir. God buy you good sir

Topas: Marry 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.

Mal.
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,
paper, and light: and conuey what I will set downe to my
Lady: it shall aduantage thee more, then euer the bearing
of Letter did.

Clo.
I will help you too't. But tel me true, are you not
mad indeed, or do you but counterfeit.

Mal.
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.

Clo.
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,
cries ah ha, to the diuell:
Like a mad lad, paire thy nayles dad,
Adieu good man diuell.
Exit
Original text
Act IV, Scene III
Enter Sebastian.
This is the ayre, that is the glorious Sunne,
This pearle she gaue me, I do feel't, and see't,
And though tis wonder that enwraps me thus,
Yet 'tis not madnesse. Where's Anthonio then,
I could not finde him at the Elephant,
Yet there he was, and there I found this credite,
That he did range the towne to seeke me out,
His councell now might do me golden seruice,
For though my soule disputes well with my sence,
That this may be some error, but no madnesse,
Yet doth this accident and flood of Fortune,
So farre exceed all instance, all discourse,
That I am readie to distrust mine eyes,
And wrangle with my reason that perswades me
To any other trust, but that I am mad,
Or else the Ladies mad; yet if 'twere so,
She could not sway her house, command her followers,
Take, and giue backe affayres, and their dispatch,
With such a smooth, discreet, and stable bearing
As I perceiue she do's: there's something in't
That is deceiueable. But heere the Lady comes.
Enter Oliuia, and Priest.

Ol.
Blame not this haste of mine: if you meane well
Now go with me, and with this holy man
Into the Chantry by: there before him,
And vnderneath that consecrated roofe,
Plight me the full assurance of your faith,
That my most iealious, and too doubtfull soule
May liue at peace. He shall conceale it,
Whiles you are willing it shall come to note,
What time we will our celebration keepe
According to my birth, what do you say?

Seb.
Ile follow this good man, and go with you,
And hauing sworne truth, euer will be true.

Ol.
Then lead the way good father, & heauens so shine,
That they may fairely note this acte of mine.
Exeunt.
Modern text
Act IV, Scene I
Enter Sebastian and Feste

FESTE
Will you make me believe that I am not sent for
you?

SEBASTIAN
Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow. Let me
be clear of thee.

FESTE
Well held out, i'faith! No: I do not know you; nor
I am not sent to you by my lady, to bid you come speak
with her; nor your name is not Master Cesario; nor this
is not my nose, neither. Nothing that is so, is so.

SEBASTIAN
I prithee, vent thy folly somewhere else; thou
knowest not me.

FESTE
Vent my folly! He has heard that word of some
great man, and now applies it to a fool. Vent my folly!
I am afraid this great lubber the world will prove a
cockney. I prithee now, ungird thy strangeness, and
tell me what I shall vent to my lady? Shall I vent to her
that thou art coming?

SEBASTIAN
I prithee, foolish Greek, depart from me.
There's money for thee; if you tarry longer, I shall give
worse payment.

FESTE
By my troth, thou hast an open hand! These wise
men that give fools money get themselves a good report
– after fourteen years' purchase.
Enter Sir Andrew, Sir Toby, and Fabian

SIR ANDREW
Now, sir, have I met you again? There's
for you!
He strikes Sebastian

SEBASTIAN
Why, there's for thee! And there!
He beats Sir Andrew with the handle of his dagger
And there! Are all the people mad?

SIR TOBY
Hold, sir, or I'll throw your dagger o'er the
house.

FESTE
This will I tell my lady straight. I would not be in
some of your coats, for twopence.
Exit

SIR TOBY
Come on, sir, hold!
He grips Sebastian

SIR ANDREW
Nay, let him alone. I'll go another way to
work with him. I'll have an action of battery against
him, if there be any law in Illyria – though I struck him
first, yet it's no matter for that.

SEBASTIAN
Let go thy hand!

SIR TOBY
Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my
young soldier, put up your iron; you are well fleshed.
Come on!

SEBASTIAN
I will be free from thee!
He breaks free and draws his sword
What wouldst thou now?
If thou darest tempt me further, draw thy sword.

SIR TOBY
What, what! Nay, then, I must have an ounce
or two of this malapert blood from you.
He draws
Enter Olivia

OLIVIA
Hold, Toby! On thy life, I charge thee hold!

SIR TOBY
Madam!

OLIVIA
Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch,
Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves
Where manners ne'er were preached, out of my sight!
Be not offended, dear Cesario.
Rudesby, be gone!
Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian
I prithee, gentle friend,
Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway
In this uncivil and unjust extent
Against thy peace. Go with me to my house,
And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks
This ruffian hath botched up, that thou thereby
Mayst smile at this. Thou shalt not choose but go;
Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me!
He started one poor heart of mine, in thee.

SEBASTIAN
(aside)
What relish is in this? How runs the stream?
Or I am mad, or else this is a dream.
Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;
If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!

OLIVIA
Nay, come, I prithee. Would thou'dst be ruled by me!

SEBASTIAN
Madam, I will.

OLIVIA
O, say so, and so be!
Exeunt
Modern text
Act IV, Scene II
Enter Maria and Feste

MARIA
Nay, I prithee, put on this gown and this beard;
make him believe thou art Sir Topas the curate. Do it
quickly. I'll call Sir Toby the whilst.
Exit

FESTE
Well, I'll put it on and I will dissemble myself in't,
and I would I were the first that ever dissembled in such
a gown. I am not tall enough to become the function
well, nor lean enough to be thought a good student. But
to be said an honest man and a good housekeeper goes as
fairly as to say a careful man and a great scholar. The
competitors enter.
Enter Sir Toby and Maria

SIR TOBY
Jove bless thee, Master Parson!

FESTE
Bonos dies, Sir Toby; for as the old hermit of
Prague that never saw pen and ink very wittily said to
a niece of King Gorboduc: that that is, is. So I, being
Master Parson, am Master Parson; for what is ‘ that ’ but
‘ that ’? And ‘ is ’ but ‘ is ’?

SIR TOBY
To him, Sir Topas.

FESTE
What ho, I say! Peace in this prison!

SIR TOBY
The knave counterfeits well; a good knave.

MALVOLIO
(within)
Who calls there?

FESTE
Sir Topas the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio
the lunatic.

MALVOLIO
Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to
my lady –

FESTE
Out, hyperbolical fiend, how vexest thou this man!
Talkest thou nothing but of ladies?

SIR TOBY
Well said, Master Parson.

MALVOLIO
Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged.
Good Sir Topas, do not think I am mad. They have laid
me here in hideous darkness –

FESTE
Fie, thou dishonest Satan! I call thee by the most
modest terms, for I am one of those gentle ones that will
use the devil himself with courtesy. Sayest thou that
house is dark?

MALVOLIO
As hell, Sir Topas.

FESTE
Why, it hath bay windows transparent as barricadoes,
and the clerestories toward the south – north
are as lustrous as ebony. And yet complainest thou of
obstruction!

MALVOLIO
I am not mad, Sir Topas. I say to you, this
house is dark.

FESTE
Madman, thou errest. I say there is no darkness but
ignorance, in which thou art more puzzled than the
Egyptians in their fog.

MALVOLIO
I say this house is as dark as ignorance,
though ignorance were as dark as hell. And I say there
was never man thus abused. I am no more mad than you
are – make the trial of it in any constant question.

FESTE
What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning
wildfowl?

MALVOLIO
That the soul of our grandam might haply
inhabit a bird.

FESTE
What thinkest thou of his opinion?

MALVOLIO
I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve
his opinion.

FESTE
Fare thee well; remain thou still in darkness. Thou
shalt hold the opinion of Pythagoras ere I will allow of
thy wits, and fear to kill a woodcock lest thou dispossess
the soul of thy grandam. Fare thee well.

MALVOLIO
Sir Topas, Sir Topas!

SIR TOBY
My most exquisite Sir Topas!

FESTE
Nay, I am for all waters.

MARIA
Thou mightst have done this without thy beard
and gown; he sees thee not.

SIR TOBY
To him in thine own voice, and bring me word
how thou findest him. I would we were well rid of this
knavery. If he may be conveniently delivered, I would
he were, for I am now so far in offence with my niece
that I cannot pursue with any safety this sport the upshot.
Come by and by to my chamber.
Exeunt Sir Toby and Maria

FESTE
(sings)
Hey Robin, jolly Robin!
Tell me how thy lady does –

MALVOLIO
Fool!

FESTE
(sings)
My lady is unkind, perdy.

MALVOLIO
Fool!

FESTE
(sings)
Alas, why is she so?

MALVOLIO
Fool, I say!

FESTE
(sings)
She loves another –
Who calls, ha?

MALVOLIO
Good fool, as ever thou wilt deserve well at
my hand, help me to a candle, and pen, ink, and paper.
As I am a gentleman, I will live to be thankful to thee
for't.

FESTE
Master Malvolio?

MALVOLIO
Ay, good fool.

FESTE
Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits?

MALVOLIO
Fool, there was never man so notoriously
abused. I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art.

FESTE
But as well? Then you are mad indeed, if you be
no better in your wits than a fool.

MALVOLIO
They have here propertied me; keep me in
darkness, send ministers to me – asses! – and do all they
can to face me out of my wits.

FESTE
Advise you what you say. The minister is here.
(In priest's voice) Malvolio, Malvolio, thy wits the
heavens restore! Endeavour thyself to sleep and leave
thy vain bibble-babble.

MALVOLIO
Sir Topas!

FESTE
Maintain no words with him, good fellow. (In own
voice) Who, I, sir? Not I, sir. God buy you, good Sir

Topas! (In priest's voice) Marry, amen! (In own voice)
I will, sir, I will.

MALVOLIO
Fool! Fool! Fool, I say!

FESTE
Alas, sir, be patient. What say you sir? I am shent
for speaking to you.

MALVOLIO
Good fool, help me to some light and some
paper. I tell thee, I am as well in my wits as any man in
Illyria.

FESTE
Well-a-day, that you were, sir!

MALVOLIO
By this hand, I am! Good fool, some ink,
paper, and light; and convey what I will set down to my
lady. It shall advantage thee more than ever the bearing
of letter did.

FESTE
I will help you to't. But tell me true, are you not
mad indeed, or do you but counterfeit?

MALVOLIO
Believe me, I am not. I tell thee true.

FESTE
Nay, I'll ne'er believe a madman till I see his
brains. I will fetch you light, and paper, and ink.

MALVOLIO
Fool, I'll requite it in the highest degree. I
prithee, be gone.

FESTE
(sings)
I am gone, sir, and anon, sir,
I'll be with you again.
In a trice, like to the old Vice,
Your need to sustain.
Who with dagger of lath, in his rage and his wrath,
Cries ‘ Ah ha!’ to the devil;
Like a mad lad – ‘ Pare thy nails, dad?
Adieu, goodman devil!’
Exit
Modern text
Act IV, Scene III
Enter Sebastian

SEBASTIAN
This is the air; that is the glorious sun;
This pearl she gave me, I do feel't and see't;
And though 'tis wonder that enwraps me thus,
Yet 'tis not madness. Where's Antonio, then?
I could not find him at the Elephant.
Yet there he was; and there I found this credit
That he did range the town to seek me out.
His counsel now might do me golden service.
For though my soul disputes well with my sense
That this may be some error, but no madness,
Yet doth this accident and flood of fortune
So far exceed all instance, all discourse,
That I am ready to distrust mine eyes,
And wrangle with my reason that persuades me
To any other trust but that I am mad –
Or else the lady's mad; yet if 'twere so,
She could not sway her house, command her followers,
Take and give back affairs and their dispatch,
With such a smooth, discreet, and stable bearing
As I perceive she does. There's something in't
That is deceivable. But here the lady comes.
Enter Olivia and a Priest

OLIVIA
Blame not this haste of mine. If you mean well,
Now go with me and with this holy man
Into the chantry by; there before him
And underneath that consecrated roof
Plight me the full assurance of your faith,
That my most jealous and too doubtful soul
May live at peace. He shall conceal it
Whiles you are willing it shall come to note;
What time we will our celebration keep
According to my birth. What do you say?

SEBASTIAN
I'll follow this good man, and go with you;
And having sworn truth, ever will be true.

OLIVIA
Then lead the way, good father, and heavens so shine
That they may fairly note this act of mine!
Exeunt
SHAKESPEARE'S WORDS © 2018 DAVID CRYSTAL & BEN CRYSTAL