FABIAN Now, as thou lov’st me, let me see his letter.
FOOL Good Master Fabian, grant me another request.
FOOL Do not desire to see this letter.
FABIAN 5This is to give a dog and in recompense desire
my dog again.
Belong you to the Lady Olivia, friends?
FOOL Ay, sir, we are some of her trappings .
I know thee well. How dost thou, my good fellow?
FOOL 10Truly, sir, the better for my foes and the worse
for my friends.
Just the contrary: the better for thy friends.
FOOL No, sir, the worse.
ORSINO How can that be?
FOOL 15Marry, sir, they praise me and make an ass of me.
Now my foes tell me plainly I am an ass; so that by
my foes, sir, I profit in the knowledge of myself, and
by my friends I am abused. So that, conclusions to
be as kisses, if your four negatives make your two
20 affirmatives, why then the worse for my friends and
the better for my foes.
ORSINO Why, this is excellent.
FOOL By my troth, sir, no—though it please you to be
one of my friends.
ORSINO , giving a coin
25 Thou shalt not be the worse for me; there’s gold.
FOOL But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I would
you could make it another.
ORSINO O, you give me ill counsel.
FOOL Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this once,
30 and let your flesh and blood obey it.
ORSINO Well, I will be so much a sinner to be a
double-dealer: there’s another. He gives a coin.
FOOL Primo, secundo, tertio is a good play, and the old
saying is, the third pays for all. The triplex, sir, is a
35 good tripping measure, or the bells of Saint Bennet,
sir, may put you in mind—one, two, three.
ORSINO You can fool no more money out of me at this
throw. If you will let your lady know I am here to
speak with her, and bring her along with you, it
40 may awake my bounty further.
FOOL Marry, sir, lullaby to your bounty till I come
again. I go, sir, but I would not have you to think
that my desire of having is the sin of covetousness.
But, as you say, sir, let your bounty take a nap. I
45 will awake it anon. He exits.
Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me.
That face of his I do remember well.
Yet when I saw it last, it was besmeared
As black as Vulcan in the smoke of war.
50 A baubling vessel was he captain of,
For shallow draught and bulk unprizable,
With which such scatheful grapple did he make
With the most noble bottom of our fleet
That very envy and the tongue of loss
55 Cried fame and honor on him.—What’s the matter?
Orsino, this is that Antonio
That took the Phoenix and her fraught from Candy,
And this is he that did the Tiger board
When your young nephew Titus lost his leg.
60 Here in the streets, desperate of shame and state,
In private brabble did we apprehend him.
He did me kindness, sir, drew on my side,
But in conclusion put strange speech upon me.
I know not what ’twas but distraction.
65 Notable pirate, thou saltwater thief,
What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies
Whom thou, in terms so bloody and so dear,
Hast made thine enemies?
ANTONIO Orsino, noble sir,
70 Be pleased that I shake off these names you give
Antonio never yet was thief or pirate,
Though, I confess, on base and ground enough,
Orsino’s enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither.
75 That most ingrateful boy there by your side
From the rude sea’s enraged and foamy mouth
Did I redeem; a wrack past hope he was.
His life I gave him and did thereto add
My love, without retention or restraint,
80 All his in dedication. For his sake
Did I expose myself, pure for his love,
Into the danger of this adverse town;
Drew to defend him when he was beset;
Where, being apprehended, his false cunning
85 (Not meaning to partake with me in danger)
Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance
And grew a twenty years’ removèd thing
While one would wink; denied me mine own purse,
Which I had recommended to his use
90 Not half an hour before.
VIOLA How can this be?
ORSINO , to Antonio When came he to this town?
Today, my lord; and for three months before,
No int’rim, not a minute’s vacancy,
95 Both day and night did we keep company.
Here comes the Countess. Now heaven walks on
But for thee, fellow: fellow, thy words are madness.
Three months this youth hath tended upon me—
100 But more of that anon. To an Officer. Take him
What would my lord, but that he may not have,
Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?—
Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.
ORSINO Gracious Olivia—
What do you say, Cesario?—Good my lord—
My lord would speak; my duty hushes me.
If it be aught to the old tune, my lord,
110 It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear
As howling after music.
Still so cruel?
OLIVIA Still so constant, lord.
What, to perverseness? You, uncivil lady,
115 To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars
My soul the faithful’st off’rings have breathed out
That e’er devotion tendered—what shall I do?
Even what it please my lord that shall become him.
Why should I not, had I the heart to do it,
120 Like to th’ Egyptian thief at point of death,
Kill what I love?—a savage jealousy
That sometime savors nobly. But hear me this:
Since you to nonregardance cast my faith,
And that I partly know the instrument
125 That screws me from my true place in your favor,
Live you the marble-breasted tyrant still.
But this your minion, whom I know you love,
And whom, by heaven I swear, I tender dearly,
Him will I tear out of that cruel eye
130 Where he sits crownèd in his master’s spite.—
Come, boy, with me. My thoughts are ripe in
I’ll sacrifice the lamb that I do love
To spite a raven’s heart within a dove.
135 And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly,
To do you rest a thousand deaths would die.
Where goes Cesario?
VIOLA After him I love
More than I love these eyes, more than my life,
140 More by all mores than e’er I shall love wife.
If I do feign, you witnesses above,
Punish my life for tainting of my love.
Ay me, detested! How am I beguiled!
Who does beguile you? Who does do you wrong?
145 Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long?—
Call forth the holy father. An Attendant exits.
ORSINO , to Viola Come, away!
Whither, my lord?—Cesario, husband, stay.
OLIVIA 150 Ay, husband. Can he that deny?
Her husband, sirrah?
VIOLA No, my lord, not I.
Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear
That makes thee strangle thy propriety.
155 Fear not, Cesario. Take thy fortunes up.
Be that thou know’st thou art, and then thou art
As great as that thou fear’st.
O, welcome, father.
Father, I charge thee by thy reverence
160 Here to unfold (though lately we intended
To keep in darkness what occasion now
Reveals before ’tis ripe) what thou dost know
Hath newly passed between this youth and me.
A contract of eternal bond of love,
165 Confirmed by mutual joinder of your hands,
Attested by the holy close of lips,
Strengthened by interchangement of your rings,
And all the ceremony of this compact
Sealed in my function, by my testimony;
170 Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my
I have traveled but two hours.
ORSINO , to Viola
O thou dissembling cub! What wilt thou be
When time hath sowed a grizzle on thy case?
175 Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow
That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow?
Farewell, and take her, but direct thy feet
Where thou and I henceforth may never meet.
My lord, I do protest—
OLIVIA 180 O, do not swear.
Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear.
ANDREW For the love of God, a surgeon! Send one
presently to Sir Toby.
OLIVIA What’s the matter?
ANDREW 185Has broke my head across, and has given Sir
Toby a bloody coxcomb too. For the love of God,
your help! I had rather than forty pound I were at
OLIVIA Who has done this, Sir Andrew?
ANDREW 190The Count’s gentleman, one Cesario. We took
him for a coward, but he’s the very devil
ORSINO My gentleman Cesario?
ANDREW ’Od’s lifelings, here he is!—You broke my
195 head for nothing, and that that I did, I was set on to
do ’t by Sir Toby.
Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you.
You drew your sword upon me without cause,
But I bespake you fair and hurt you not.
ANDREW 200If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt
me. I think you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb.
Here comes Sir Toby halting. You shall hear
more. But if he had not been in drink, he would
have tickled you othergates than he did.
ORSINO 205How now, gentleman? How is ’t with you?
TOBY That’s all one. Has hurt me, and there’s th’ end
on ’t. To Fool. Sot, didst see Dick Surgeon, sot?
FOOL O, he’s drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyes
were set at eight i’ th’ morning.
TOBY 210Then he’s a rogue and a passy-measures pavin. I
hate a drunken rogue.
OLIVIA Away with him! Who hath made this havoc
ANDREW I’ll help you, Sir Toby, because we’ll be
215 dressed together.
TOBY Will you help?—an ass-head, and a coxcomb,
and a knave, a thin-faced knave, a gull?
Get him to bed, and let his hurt be looked to.
Toby, Andrew, Fool, and Fabian exit.
I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kinsman,
220 But, had it been the brother of my blood,
I must have done no less with wit and safety.
You throw a strange regard upon me, and by that
I do perceive it hath offended you.
Pardon me, sweet one, even for the vows
225 We made each other but so late ago.
One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons!
A natural perspective, that is and is not!
Antonio, O, my dear Antonio!
How have the hours racked and tortured me
230 Since I have lost thee!
Sebastian are you?
SEBASTIAN Fear’st thou that, Antonio?
How have you made division of yourself?
An apple cleft in two is not more twin
235 Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian?
OLIVIA Most wonderful!
SEBASTIAN , looking at Viola
Do I stand there? I never had a brother,
Nor can there be that deity in my nature
Of here and everywhere. I had a sister
240 Whom the blind waves and surges have devoured.
Of charity, what kin are you to me?
What countryman? What name? What parentage?
Of Messaline. Sebastian was my father.
Such a Sebastian was my brother too.
245 So went he suited to his watery tomb.
If spirits can assume both form and suit,
You come to fright us.
SEBASTIAN A spirit I am indeed,
But am in that dimension grossly clad
250 Which from the womb I did participate.
Were you a woman, as the rest goes even,
I should my tears let fall upon your cheek
And say “Thrice welcome, drownèd Viola.”
My father had a mole upon his brow.
SEBASTIAN 255And so had mine.
And died that day when Viola from her birth
Had numbered thirteen years.
O, that record is lively in my soul!
He finishèd indeed his mortal act
260 That day that made my sister thirteen years.
If nothing lets to make us happy both
But this my masculine usurped attire,
Do not embrace me till each circumstance
Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and jump
265 That I am Viola; which to confirm,
I’ll bring you to a captain in this town,
Where lie my maiden weeds; by whose gentle help
I was preserved to serve this noble count.
All the occurrence of my fortune since
270 Hath been between this lady and this lord.
SEBASTIAN , to Olivia
So comes it, lady, you have been mistook.
But nature to her bias drew in that.
You would have been contracted to a maid.
Nor are you therein, by my life, deceived:
275 You are betrothed both to a maid and man.
ORSINO , to Olivia
Be not amazed; right noble is his blood.
If this be so, as yet the glass seems true,
I shall have share in this most happy wrack.—
Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times
280 Thou never shouldst love woman like to me.
And all those sayings will I overswear,
And all those swearings keep as true in soul
As doth that orbèd continent the fire
That severs day from night.
ORSINO 285 Give me thy hand,
And let me see thee in thy woman’s weeds.
The Captain that did bring me first on shore
Hath my maid’s garments. He, upon some action,
Is now in durance at Malvolio’s suit,
290 A gentleman and follower of my lady’s.
He shall enlarge him.
Fetch Malvolio hither.
And yet, alas, now I remember me,
They say, poor gentleman, he’s much distract.
295 A most extracting frenzy of mine own
From my remembrance clearly banished his.
To the Fool. How does he, sirrah?
FOOL Truly, madam, he holds Beelzebub at the stave’s
end as well as a man in his case may do. Has here
300 writ a letter to you. I should have given ’t you today
morning. But as a madman’s epistles are no gospels,
so it skills not much when they are delivered.
OLIVIA Open ’t and read it.
FOOL Look then to be well edified, when the Fool
305 delivers the madman. He reads. By the Lord,
OLIVIA How now, art thou mad?
FOOL No, madam, I do but read madness. An your
Ladyship will have it as it ought to be, you must
310 allow vox.
OLIVIA Prithee, read i’ thy right wits.
FOOL So I do, madonna. But to read his right wits is to
read thus. Therefore, perpend, my princess, and
OLIVIA , giving letter to Fabian 315Read it you, sirrah.
FABIAN (reads) By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and
the world shall know it. Though you have put me into
darkness and given your drunken cousin rule over
me, yet have I the benefit of my senses as well as your
320 Ladyship. I have your own letter that induced me to
the semblance I put on, with the which I doubt not but
to do myself much right or you much shame. Think of
me as you please. I leave my duty a little unthought of
and speak out of my injury.
325 The madly used Malvolio.
OLIVIA Did he write this?
FOOL Ay, madam.
This savors not much of distraction.
See him delivered, Fabian. Bring him hither.
330 To Orsino. My lord, so please you, these things
further thought on,
To think me as well a sister as a wife,
One day shall crown th’ alliance on ’t, so please
335 Here at my house, and at my proper cost.
Madam, I am most apt t’ embrace your offer.
To Viola. Your master quits you; and for your
service done him,
So much against the mettle of your sex,
340 So far beneath your soft and tender breeding,
And since you called me “master” for so long,
Here is my hand. You shall from this time be
Your master’s mistress.
OLIVIA , to Viola A sister! You are she.
OLIVIA Have I, Malvolio? No.
MALVOLIO , handing her a paper
Lady, you have. Pray you peruse that letter.
You must not now deny it is your hand.
Write from it if you can, in hand or phrase,
355 Or say ’tis not your seal, not your invention.
You can say none of this. Well, grant it then,
And tell me, in the modesty of honor,
Why you have given me such clear lights of favor?
Bade me come smiling and cross-gartered to you,
360 To put on yellow stockings, and to frown
Upon Sir Toby and the lighter people?
And, acting this in an obedient hope,
Why have you suffered me to be imprisoned,
Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest,
365 And made the most notorious geck and gull
That e’er invention played on? Tell me why.
Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing,
Though I confess much like the character.
But out of question, ’tis Maria’s hand.
370 And now I do bethink me, it was she
First told me thou wast mad; then cam’st in smiling,
And in such forms which here were presupposed
Upon thee in the letter. Prithee, be content.
This practice hath most shrewdly passed upon thee.
375 But when we know the grounds and authors of it,
Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge
Of thine own cause.
FABIAN Good madam, hear me speak,
And let no quarrel nor no brawl to come
380 Taint the condition of this present hour,
Which I have wondered at. In hope it shall not,
Most freely I confess, myself and Toby
Set this device against Malvolio here,
Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts
385 We had conceived against him. Maria writ
The letter at Sir Toby’s great importance,
In recompense whereof he hath married her.
How with a sportful malice it was followed
May rather pluck on laughter than revenge,
390 If that the injuries be justly weighed
That have on both sides passed.
OLIVIA , to Malvolio
Alas, poor fool, how have they baffled thee!
FOOL Why, “some are born great, some achieve greatness,
and some have greatness thrown upon them.”
395 I was one, sir, in this interlude, one Sir Topas, sir,
but that’s all one. “By the Lord, Fool, I am not
mad”—but, do you remember “Madam, why laugh
you at such a barren rascal; an you smile not, he’s
gagged”? And thus the whirligig of time brings in
400 his revenges.
I’ll be revenged on the whole pack of you! He exits.
He hath been most notoriously abused.
Pursue him and entreat him to a peace. Some exit.
He hath not told us of the Captain yet.
405 When that is known, and golden time convents,
A solemn combination shall be made
Of our dear souls.—Meantime, sweet sister,
We will not part from hence.—Cesario, come,
For so you shall be while you are a man.
410 But when in other habits you are seen,
Orsino’s mistress, and his fancy’s queen.
All but the Fool exit.
When that I was and a little tiny boy,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
A foolish thing was but a toy,
415 For the rain it raineth every day.
But when I came to man’s estate,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
’Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate,
For the rain it raineth every day.
420 But when I came, alas, to wive,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
By swaggering could I never thrive,
For the rain it raineth every day.
But when I came unto my beds,
425 With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
With tosspots still had drunken heads,
For the rain it raineth every day.