Twelfth Night-Broken

Twelfth Night


Twelfth Night—an allusion to the night of festivity preceding the Christian celebration of the Epiphany—combines love, confusion, mistaken identities, and joyful discovery.
After the twins Sebastian and Viola survive a shipwreck, neither knows that the other is alive. Viola goes into service with Count Orsino of Illyria, disguised as a young man, “Cesario.” Orsino sends Cesario to woo the Lady Olivia on his behalf, but Olivia falls in love with Cesario. Viola, in the meantime, has fallen in love with Orsino.

At the estate of Lady Olivia, Sir Toby Belch , Olivia’s kinsman, has brought in Sir Andrew Aguecheek to be her suitor. A confrontation between Olivia’s steward, Malvolio, and the partying Toby and his cohort leads to a revenge plot against Malvolio. Malvolio is tricked into making a fool of himself, and he is locked in a dungeon as a lunatic.

In the meantime, Sebastian has been rescued by a sea captain, Antonio. When Viola, as Cesario, is challenged to a duel, Antonio mistakes her for Sebastian, comes to her aid, and is arrested. Olivia, meanwhile, mistakes Sebastian for Cesario and declares her love. When, finally, Sebastian and Viola appear together, the puzzles around the mistaken identities are solved: Cesario is revealed as Viola, Orsino asks for Viola’s hand, Sebastian will wed Olivia, and Viola will marry Count Orsino. Malvolio, blaming Olivia and others for his humiliation, vows revenge.


VIOLA, a lady of Messaline shipwrecked on the coast of Illyria (later disguised as CESARIO)
OLIVIA, an Illyrian countess
MARIA, her waiting-gentlewoman
SIR TOBY BELCH, Olivia’s kinsman
SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK, Sir Toby’s companion
MALVOLIO, steward in Olivia’s household
FOOL, Olivia’s jester, named Feste
FABIAN, a gentleman in Olivia’s household
ORSINO, duke (or count) of Illyria
CURIO, gentlemen serving Orsino
SEBASTIAN, Viola’s brother
ANTONIO, friend to Sebastian
Lords, Sailors, Musicians, and other Attendants



Text= Informational annotation concerning a specific word or name

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Enter Orsino, Duke of Illyria, Curio, and other Lords,
with  Musicians playing .

 If music be the food of love, play on.
 Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting ,
 The appetite may sicken and so die.
 That strain again! It had a dying fall.
5 O, it came o’er my ear like the sweet sound
 That breathes upon a bank of violets,
 Stealing and giving odor. Enough; no more.
 ’Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
 O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou,
10 That, notwithstanding thy capacity
 Receiveth as the sea, naught enters there,
 Of what validity and pitch soe’er,
 But falls into abatement and low price
 Even in a minute. So full of shapes is fancy
15 That it alone is high fantastical.
 Will you go hunt, my lord?
ORSINO  What, Curio?
CURIO  The hart.
 Why, so I do, the noblest that I have.
20 O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first,



 Methought she purged the air of pestilence.
 That instant was I turned into a hart,
 And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,
 E’er since pursue me.

Enter Valentine.

25 How now, what news from her?
 So please my lord, I might not be admitted,
 But from her handmaid do return this answer:
 The element itself, till seven years’ heat,
 Shall not behold her face at ample view,
30 But like a cloistress. she will veilèd walk,
 And water once a day her chamber round
 With eye-offending brine—all this to season
 A brother’s dead love, which she would keep fresh
 And lasting in her sad remembrance.
35 O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame
 To pay this debt of love but to a brother,
 How will she love when the rich golden shaft
 Hath killed the flock of all affections else
 That live in her; when liver, brain, and heart,
40 These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and filled
 Her sweet perfections with one self king!
 Away before me to sweet beds of flowers!
 Love thoughts lie rich when canopied with bowers.
They exit.


Scene 2

Enter Viola, a Captain, and Sailors.

VIOLA  What country, friends, is this?
CAPTAIN This is Illyria, lady.
 And what should I do in Illyria?



 My brother he is in Elysium.
5 Perchance he is not drowned.—What think you,
 It is perchance that you yourself were saved.
 O, my poor brother! And so perchance may he be.
 True, madam. And to comfort you with chance,
10 Assure yourself, after our ship did split,
 When you and those poor number saved with you
 Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother,
 Most provident in peril, bind himself
 (Courage and hope both teaching him the practice)
15 To a strong mast that lived upon the sea,
 Where, like Arion on the dolphin’s back ,
 I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves
 So long as I could see.
VIOLA , giving him money  For saying so, there’s gold.
20 Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,
 Whereto thy speech serves for authority,
 The like of him. Know’st thou this country?
 Ay, madam, well, for I was bred and born
 Not three hours’ travel from this very place.
VIOLA 25Who governs here?
 A noble duke, in nature as in name.
VIOLA What is his name?
 Orsino. I have heard my father name him.
30 He was a bachelor then.
 And so is now, or was so very late;
 For but a month ago I went from hence,



 And then ’twas fresh in murmur (as, you know,
 What great ones do the less will prattle of)
35 That he did seek the love of fair Olivia.
VIOLA What’s she?
 A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count
 That died some twelvemonth since, then leaving her
 In the protection of his son, her brother,
40 Who shortly also died, for whose dear love,
 They say, she hath abjured the sight
 And company of men.
VIOLA  O, that I served that lady,
 And might not be delivered to the world
45 Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,
 What my estate is.
CAPTAIN  That were hard to compass
 Because she will admit no kind of suit,
 No, not the Duke’s.
50 There is a fair behavior in thee, captain,
 And though that nature with a beauteous wall
 Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee 
 I will believe thou hast a mind that suits
 With this thy fair and outward character.
55 I prithee—and I’ll pay thee bounteously—
 Conceal me what I am, and be my aid
 For such disguise as haply shall become
 The form of my intent. I’ll serve this duke.
 Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him.
60 It may be worth thy pains, for I can sing
 And speak to him in many sorts of music
 That will allow me very worth his service.
 What else may hap, to time I will commit.
 Only shape thou thy silence to my wit.
65 Be you his eunuch, and your mute I’ll be.



 When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see.
VIOLA I thank thee. Lead me on.
They exit.


Scene 3

Enter Sir Toby and Maria.

TOBY What a plague means my niece to take the death
 of her brother thus? I am sure care’s an enemy to
MARIA By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier
5 o’ nights. Your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions
 to your ill hours.
TOBY Why, let her except before excepted!
MARIA Ay, but you must confine yourself within the
 modest limits of order.
TOBY 10Confine? I’ll confine myself no finer than I am.
 These clothes are good enough to drink in, and so
 be these boots too. An they be not, let them hang
 themselves in their own straps!
MARIA That quaffing and drinking will undo you. I
15 heard my lady talk of it yesterday, and of a foolish
 knight that you brought in one night here to be her
TOBY Who, Sir Andrew Aguecheek?
MARIA Ay, he.
TOBY 20He’s as tall a man as any ’s in Illyria.
MARIA What’s that to th’ purpose?
TOBY Why, he has three thousand ducats a year!
MARIA Ay, but he’ll have but a year in all these ducats.
 He’s a very fool and a prodigal.
TOBY 25Fie that you’ll say so! He plays o’ th’ viol-de-gamboys
 and speaks three or four languages word
 for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of



MARIA He hath indeed, almost natural, for, besides
30 that he’s a fool, he’s a great quarreler, and, but that
 he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath
 in quarreling, ’tis thought among the prudent he
 would quickly have the gift of a grave.
TOBY By this hand, they are scoundrels and substractors
35 that say so of him. Who are they?
MARIA They that add, moreover, he’s drunk nightly in
 your company.
TOBY With drinking healths to my niece. I’ll drink to
 her as long as there is a passage in my throat and
40 drink in Illyria. He’s a coward and a coistrel that
 will not drink to my niece till his brains turn o’ th’
 toe like a parish top. What, wench! Castiliano vulgo,
 for here comes Sir Andrew Agueface.

Enter Sir Andrew.

ANDREW Sir Toby Belch! How now, Sir Toby Belch?
TOBY 45Sweet Sir Andrew!
ANDREW , to Maria Bless you, fair shrew.
MARIA And you too, sir.
TOBY Accost, Sir Andrew, accost!
ANDREW What’s that?
TOBY 50My niece’s chambermaid.
ANDREW Good Mistress Accost, I desire better
MARIA My name is Mary, sir.
ANDREW Good Mistress Mary Accost—
TOBY 55You mistake, knight. “Accost” is front her, board
 her, woo her, assail her.
ANDREW By my troth, I would not undertake her in
 this company. Is that the meaning of “accost”?
MARIA Fare you well, gentlemen. She begins to exit.
TOBY 60An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, would thou
 mightst never draw sword again.
ANDREW An you part so, mistress, I would I might



 never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think you
 have fools in hand?
MARIA 65Sir, I have not you by th’ hand.
ANDREW Marry, but you shall have, and here’s my
 hand. He offers his hand.
MARIA , taking his hand Now sir, thought is free. I
 pray you, bring your hand to th’ butt’ry bar and let
70 it drink.
ANDREW Wherefore, sweetheart? What’s your
MARIA It’s dry, sir.
ANDREW Why, I think so. I am not such an ass but I
75 can keep my hand dry. But what’s your jest?
MARIA A dry jest, sir.
ANDREW Are you full of them?
MARIA Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers’ ends. Marry,
 now I let go your hand, I am barren. Maria exits.
TOBY 80O knight, thou lack’st a cup of canary! When did
 I see thee so put down?
ANDREW Never in your life, I think, unless you see
 canary put me down. Methinks sometimes I have
 no more wit than a Christian or an ordinary man
85 has. But I am a great eater of beef, and I believe that
 does harm to my wit.
TOBY No question.
ANDREW An I thought that, I’d forswear it. I’ll ride
 home tomorrow, Sir Toby.
TOBY 90Pourquoi, my dear knight?
ANDREW What is “pourquoi”? Do, or not do? I would I
 had bestowed that time in the tongues that I have in
 fencing, dancing, and bearbaiting . O, had I but
 followed the arts!
TOBY 95Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair.
ANDREW Why, would that have mended my hair?
TOBY Past question, for thou seest it will not curl by



ANDREW But it becomes me well enough, does ’t not?
TOBY 100Excellent! It hangs like flax on a distaff, and I
 hope to see a huswife take thee between her legs
 and spin it off.
ANDREW Faith, I’ll home tomorrow, Sir Toby. Your
 niece will not be seen, or if she be, it’s four to one
105 she’ll none of me. The Count himself here hard by
 woos her.
TOBY She’ll none o’ th’ Count. She’ll not match above
 her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit. I have
 heard her swear ’t. Tut, there’s life in ’t, man.
ANDREW 110I’ll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o’ th’
 strangest mind i’ th’ world. I delight in masques
 and revels sometimes altogether.
TOBY Art thou good at these kickshawses, knight?
ANDREW As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be,
115 under the degree of my betters, and yet I will not
 compare with an old man.
TOBY What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight?
ANDREW Faith, I can cut a caper.
TOBY And I can cut the mutton to ’t.
ANDREW 120And I think I have the back-trick simply as
 strong as any man in Illyria.
TOBY Wherefore are these things hid? Wherefore have
 these gifts a curtain before ’em? Are they like to
 take dust, like Mistress Mall’s picture? Why dost
125 thou not go to church in a galliard and come home
 in a coranto? My very walk should be a jig. I would
 not so much as make water but in a sink-a-pace.
 What dost thou mean? Is it a world to hide virtues
 in? I did think, by the excellent constitution of thy
130 leg, it was formed under the star of a galliard.
ANDREW Ay, ’tis strong, and it does indifferent well in a
 dun-colored stock. Shall we set about some



TOBY What shall we do else? Were we not born under
135 Taurus?
ANDREW Taurus? That’s sides and heart.
TOBY No, sir, it is legs and thighs. Let me see thee
 caper.  Sir Andrew dances. Ha, higher! Ha, ha,
They exit.


Scene 4

Enter Valentine, and Viola in man’s attire as Cesario.

VALENTINE If the Duke continue these favors towards
 you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanced. He
 hath known you but three days, and already you
 are no stranger.
VIOLA 5You either fear his humor or my negligence, that
 you call in question the continuance of his love. Is
 he inconstant, sir, in his favors?
VALENTINE No, believe me.
VIOLA I thank you.

Enter Orsino, Curio, and Attendants.

10 Here comes the Count.
ORSINO  Who saw Cesario, ho?
VIOLA On your attendance, my lord, here.
ORSINO , to Curio and Attendants 
 Stand you awhile aloof.—Cesario,
 Thou know’st no less but all. I have unclasped
15 To thee the book even of my secret soul.
 Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her.
 Be not denied access. Stand at her doors
 And tell them, there thy fixèd foot shall grow
 Till thou have audience.
VIOLA 20 Sure, my noble lord,
 If she be so abandoned to her sorrow
 As it is spoke, she never will admit me.



 Be clamorous and leap all civil bounds
 Rather than make unprofited return.
25 Say I do speak with her, my lord, what then?
 O, then unfold the passion of my love.
 Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith.
 It shall become thee well to act my woes.
 She will attend it better in thy youth
30 Than in a nuncio’s of more grave aspect.
 I think not so, my lord.
ORSINO  Dear lad, believe it;
 For they shall yet belie thy happy years
 That say thou art a man. Diana ’s lip
35 Is not more smooth and rubious, thy small pipe
 Is as the maiden’s organ, shrill and sound,
 And all is semblative a womans part.
 I know thy constellation is right apt
 For this affair.—Some four or five attend him,
40 All, if you will, for I myself am best
 When least in company.—Prosper well in this
 And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord,
 To call his fortunes thine.
VIOLA  I’ll do my best
45 To woo your lady.  Aside. Yet a barful strife!
 Whoe’er I woo, myself would be his wife.
They exit.


Scene 5

Enter Maria and Feste, the Fool.

MARIA Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I
 will not open my lips so wide as a bristle may enter



 in way of thy excuse. My lady will hang thee for thy
FOOL 5Let her hang me. He that is well hanged in this
 world needs to fear no colors .
MARIA Make that good.
FOOL He shall see none to fear.
MARIA A good Lenten answer. I can tell thee where
10 that saying was born, of “I fear no colors.”
FOOL Where, good Mistress Mary?
MARIA In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in
 your foolery.
FOOL Well, God give them wisdom that have it, and
15 those that are Fools, let them use their talents.
MARIA Yet you will be hanged for being so long absent.
 Or to be turned away, is not that as good as a
 hanging to you?
FOOL  Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage ,
20 and, for turning away, let summer bear it out.
MARIA You are resolute, then?
FOOL Not so, neither, but I am resolved on two points.
MARIA That if one break, the other will hold, or if both
 break, your gaskins fall.
FOOL 25Apt, in good faith, very apt. Well, go thy way. If Sir
 Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a
 piece of Eve’s flesh as any in Illyria.
MARIA Peace, you rogue. No more o’ that. Here comes
 my lady. Make your excuse wisely, you were best.
She exits.

Enter Lady Olivia with Malvolio and Attendants.

FOOL , aside 30Wit, an ’t be thy will, put me into good
 fooling! Those wits that think they have thee do very
 oft prove fools, and I that am sure I lack thee may
 pass for a wise man. For what says Quinapalus ?
 “Better a witty Fool than a foolish wit.”—God bless
35 thee, lady!



OLIVIA Take the Fool away.
FOOL Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the Lady.
OLIVIA Go to, you’re a dry Fool. I’ll no more of you.
 Besides, you grow dishonest.
FOOL 40Two faults, madonna, that drink and good counsel
 will amend. For give the dry Fool drink, then is
 the Fool not dry. Bid the dishonest man mend
 himself; if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if he
 cannot, let the botcher mend him. Anything that’s
45 mended is but patched; virtue that transgresses is
 but patched with sin, and sin that amends is but
 patched with virtue. If that this simple syllogism
 will serve, so; if it will not, what remedy? As there is
 no true cuckold but calamity, so beauty’s a flower.
50 The Lady bade take away the Fool. Therefore, I say
 again, take her away.
OLIVIA Sir, I bade them take away you.
FOOL Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, cucullus
 non facit monachum.
 That’s as much to say as, I

55 wear not motley in my brain. Good madonna, give
 me leave to prove you a fool.
OLIVIA Can you do it?
FOOL Dexteriously, good madonna.
OLIVIA Make your proof.
FOOL 60I must catechize you for it, madonna. Good my
 mouse of virtue, answer me.
OLIVIA Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I’ll bide
 your proof.
FOOL Good madonna, why mourn’st thou?
OLIVIA 65Good Fool, for my brother’s death.
FOOL I think his soul is in hell, madonna.
OLIVIA I know his soul is in heaven, Fool.
FOOL The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your
 brother’s soul, being in heaven. Take away the fool,
70 gentlemen.
OLIVIA What think you of this Fool, Malvolio? Doth he
 not mend?



MALVOLIO Yes, and shall do till the pangs of death
 shake him. Infirmity, that decays the wise, doth
75 ever make the better Fool.
FOOL God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the
 better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will be sworn
 that I am no fox, but he will not pass his word for
 twopence that you are no fool.
OLIVIA 80How say you to that, Malvolio?
MALVOLIO I marvel your Ladyship takes delight in
 such a barren rascal. I saw him put down the other
 day with an ordinary fool that has no more brain
 than a stone. Look you now, he’s out of his guard
85 already. Unless you laugh and minister occasion to
 him, he is gagged. I protest I take these wise men
 that crow so at these set kind of Fools no better than
 the Fools’ zanies.
OLIVIA O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste
90 with a distempered appetite. To be generous, guiltless,
 and of free disposition is to take those things
 for bird-bolts that you deem cannon bullets. There
 is no slander in an allowed Fool, though he do
 nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known discreet
95 man, though he do nothing but reprove.
FOOL Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for thou
 speak’st well of Fools!

Enter Maria.

MARIA Madam, there is at the gate a young gentleman
 much desires to speak with you.
OLIVIA 100From the Count Orsino, is it?
MARIA I know not, madam. ’Tis a fair young man, and
 well attended.
OLIVIA Who of my people hold him in delay?
MARIA Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman.
OLIVIA 105Fetch him off, I pray you. He speaks nothing
 but madman. Fie on him!  Maria exits. Go you,
 Malvolio. If it be a suit from the Count, I am sick,



 or not at home; what you will, to dismiss it.  (Malvolio
Now you see, sir, how your fooling

110 grows old, and people dislike it.
FOOL Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy eldest
 son should be a Fool, whose skull Jove cram with
 brains, for—here he comes—one of thy kin has a
 most weak pia mater.

Enter Sir Toby.

OLIVIA 115By mine honor, half drunk!—What is he at the
 gate, cousin?
TOBY A gentleman.
OLIVIA A gentleman? What gentleman?
TOBY ’Tis a gentleman here—a plague o’ these pickle
120 herring!—How now, sot?
FOOL Good Sir Toby.
OLIVIA Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by
 this lethargy?
TOBY Lechery? I defy lechery. There’s one at the gate.
OLIVIA 125Ay, marry, what is he?
TOBY Let him be the devil an he will, I care not. Give
 me faith, say I. Well, it’s all one. He exits.
OLIVIA What’s a drunken man like, Fool?
FOOL Like a drowned man, a fool, and a madman. One
130 draught above heat makes him a fool, the second
 mads him, and a third drowns him.
OLIVIA Go thou and seek the crowner and let him sit o’
 my coz, for he’s in the third degree of drink: he’s
 drowned. Go look after him.
FOOL 135He is but mad yet, madonna, and the Fool shall
 look to the madman. He exits.

Enter Malvolio.

MALVOLIO Madam, yond young fellow swears he will
 speak with you. I told him you were sick; he takes



 on him to understand so much, and therefore
140 comes to speak with you. I told him you were
 asleep; he seems to have a foreknowledge of that
 too, and therefore comes to speak with you. What is
 to be said to him, lady? He’s fortified against any
OLIVIA 145Tell him he shall not speak with me.
MALVOLIO Has been told so, and he says he’ll stand at
 your door like a sheriff’s post and be the supporter
 to a bench, but he’ll speak with you.
OLIVIA  What kind o’ man is he?
MALVOLIO 150Why, of mankind.
OLIVIA What manner of man?
MALVOLIO Of very ill manner. He’ll speak with you,
 will you or no.
OLIVIA Of what personage and years is he?
MALVOLIO 155Not yet old enough for a man, nor young
 enough for a boy—as a squash is before ’tis a
 peascod, or a codling when ’tis almost an apple. ’Tis
 with him in standing water, between boy and man.
 He is very well-favored, and he speaks very shrewishly.
160 One would think his mother’s milk were
 scarce out of him.
 Let him approach. Call in my gentlewoman.
MALVOLIO Gentlewoman, my lady calls. He exits.

Enter Maria.

 Give me my veil. Come, throw it o’er my face.
Olivia veils.
165 We’ll once more hear Orsino’s embassy.

Enter Viola .

VIOLA The honorable lady of the house, which is she?



OLIVIA Speak to me. I shall answer for her. Your will?
VIOLA Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable
 beauty—I pray you, tell me if this be the lady of the
170 house, for I never saw her. I would be loath to cast
 away my speech, for, besides that it is excellently
 well penned, I have taken great pains to con it. Good
 beauties, let me sustain no scorn. I am very comptible
 even to the least sinister usage.
OLIVIA 175Whence came you, sir?
VIOLA I can say little more than I have studied, and
 that question’s out of my part. Good gentle one,
 give me modest assurance if you be the lady of the
 house, that I may proceed in my speech.
OLIVIA 180 Are you a comedian?
VIOLA No, my profound heart. And yet by the very
 fangs of malice I swear I am not that I play. Are
 you the lady of the house?
OLIVIA If I do not usurp myself, I am.
VIOLA 185Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp
 yourself, for what is yours to bestow is not yours to
 reserve. But this is from my commission. I will on
 with my speech in your praise and then show you
 the heart of my message.
OLIVIA 190Come to what is important in ’t. I forgive you
 the praise.
VIOLA Alas, I took great pains to study it, and ’tis
OLIVIA It is the more like to be feigned. I pray you,
195 keep it in. I heard you were saucy at my gates, and
 allowed your approach rather to wonder at you than
 to hear you. If you be not mad, begone; if you have
 reason, be brief. ’Tis not that time of moon with me
 to make one in so skipping a dialogue.
MARIA 200Will you hoist sail, sir? Here lies your way.
VIOLA No, good swabber, I am to hull here a little



—Some mollification for your giant, sweet

OLIVIA Tell me your mind.
VIOLA 205I am a messenger.
OLIVIA Sure you have some hideous matter to deliver
 when the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak your
VIOLA It alone concerns your ear. I bring no overture
210 of war, no taxation of homage. I hold the olive in
 my hand. My words are as full of peace as matter.
OLIVIA Yet you began rudely. What are you? What
 would you?
VIOLA The rudeness that hath appeared in me have I
215 learned from my entertainment. What I am and
 what I would are as secret as maidenhead: to your
 ears, divinity; to any other’s, profanation.
OLIVIA Give us the place alone. We will hear this
 divinity.  Maria and Attendants exit. Now, sir, what
220 is your text?
VIOLA Most sweet lady—
OLIVIA A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said
 of it. Where lies your text?
VIOLA In Orsino’s bosom.
OLIVIA 225In his bosom? In what chapter of his bosom?
VIOLA To answer by the method, in the first of his heart.
OLIVIA O, I have read it; it is heresy. Have you no more
 to say?
VIOLA Good madam, let me see your face.
OLIVIA 230Have you any commission from your lord to
 negotiate with my face? You are now out of your
 text. But we will draw the curtain and show you the
 picture.  She removes her veil. Look you, sir, such a
 one I was this present. Is ’t not well done?
VIOLA 235Excellently done, if God did all.
OLIVIA ’Tis in grain, sir; ’twill endure wind and



 ’Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white
 Nature’s own sweet and cunning hand laid on.
240 Lady, you are the cruel’st she alive
 If you will lead these graces to the grave
 And leave the world no copy.
OLIVIA O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted! I will give
 out divers schedules of my beauty. It shall be
245 inventoried and every particle and utensil labeled
 to my will: as, item, two lips indifferent red; item,
 two gray eyes with lids to them; item, one neck, one
 chin, and so forth. Were you sent hither to praise
250 I see you what you are. You are too proud.
 But if you were the devil you are fair.
 My lord and master loves you. O, such love
 Could be but recompensed though you were
255 The nonpareil of beauty.
OLIVIA  How does he love me?
VIOLA With adorations, fertile tears,
 With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.
 Your lord does know my mind. I cannot love him.
260 Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble,
 Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth;
 In voices well divulged, free, learned, and valiant,
 And in dimension and the shape of nature
 A gracious person. But yet I cannot love him.
265 He might have took his answer long ago.
 If I did love you in my master’s flame,
 With such a suff’ring, such a deadly life,
 In your denial I would find no sense.
 I would not understand it.



OLIVIA 270 Why, what would you?
 Make me a willow cabin at your gate
 And call upon my soul within the house,
 Write loyal cantons of contemnèd love
 And sing them loud even in the dead of night,
275 Hallow your name to the reverberate hills
 And make the babbling gossip of the air
 Cry out “Olivia!” O, you should not rest
 Between the elements of air and earth
 But you should pity me.
OLIVIA 280 You might do much.
 What is your parentage?
 Above my fortunes, yet my state is well.
 I am a gentleman.
OLIVIA  Get you to your lord.
285 I cannot love him. Let him send no more—
 Unless perchance you come to me again
 To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well.
 I thank you for your pains. Spend this for me.
She offers money.
 I am no fee’d post, lady. Keep your purse.
290 My master, not myself, lacks recompense.
 Love make his heart of flint that you shall love,
 And let your fervor, like my master’s, be
 Placed in contempt. Farewell, fair cruelty. She exits.
OLIVIA “What is your parentage?”
295 “Above my fortunes, yet my state is well.
 I am a gentleman.” I’ll be sworn thou art.
 Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit
 Do give thee fivefold blazon. Not too fast! Soft,
300 Unless the master were the man. How now?
 Even so quickly may one catch the plague?



 Methinks I feel this youth’s perfections
 With an invisible and subtle stealth
 To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.—
305 What ho, Malvolio!

Enter Malvolio.

MALVOLIO  Here, madam, at your service.
 Run after that same peevish messenger,
 The County’s man. He left this ring behind him,
 Would I or not. Tell him I’ll none of it.
She hands him a ring.
310 Desire him not to flatter with his lord,
 Nor hold him up with hopes. I am not for him.
 If that the youth will come this way tomorrow,
 I’ll give him reasons for ’t. Hie thee, Malvolio.
MALVOLIO Madam, I will. He exits.
315 I do I know not what, and fear to find
 Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind.
 Fate, show thy force. Ourselves we do not owe.
 What is decreed must be, and be this so.
She exits.




Scene 1

Enter Antonio and Sebastian.

ANTONIO Will you stay no longer? Nor will you not that
 I go with you?
SEBASTIAN By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly
 over me. The malignancy of my fate might perhaps
5 distemper yours. Therefore I shall crave of you your
 leave that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad
 recompense for your love to lay any of them on you.
ANTONIO Let me yet know of you whither you are
SEBASTIAN 10No, sooth, sir. My determinate voyage is
 mere extravagancy. But I perceive in you so excellent
 a touch of modesty that you will not extort
 from me what I am willing to keep in. Therefore it
 charges me in manners the rather to express myself.
15 You must know of me, then, Antonio, my name
 is Sebastian, which I called Roderigo. My father was
 that Sebastian of Messaline whom I know you have
 heard of. He left behind him myself and a sister,
 both born in an hour. If the heavens had been
20 pleased, would we had so ended! But you, sir,
 altered that, for some hour before you took me
 from the breach of the sea was my sister drowned.
ANTONIO Alas the day!



SEBASTIAN A lady, sir, though it was said she much
25 resembled me, was yet of many accounted beautiful.
 But though I could not with such estimable
 wonder overfar believe that, yet thus far I will boldly
 publish her: she bore a mind that envy could not but
 call fair. She is drowned already, sir, with salt water,
30 though I seem to drown her remembrance again
 with more.
ANTONIO Pardon me, sir, your bad entertainment.
SEBASTIAN O good Antonio, forgive me your trouble.
ANTONIO If you will not murder me for my love, let me
35 be your servant.
SEBASTIAN If you will not undo what you have done—
 that is, kill him whom you have recovered—desire
 it not. Fare you well at once. My bosom is full of
 kindness, and I am yet so near the manners of my
40 mother that, upon the least occasion more, mine
 eyes will tell tales of me. I am bound to the Count
 Orsino’s court. Farewell. He exits.
 The gentleness of all the gods go with thee!
 I have many enemies in Orsino’s court,
45 Else would I very shortly see thee there.
 But come what may, I do adore thee so
 That danger shall seem sport, and I will go.
He exits.


Scene 2

Enter Viola and Malvolio, at several doors.

MALVOLIO Were not you even now with the Countess
VIOLA Even now, sir. On a moderate pace I have since
 arrived but hither.
MALVOLIO 5She returns this ring to you, sir. You might



 have saved me my pains to have taken it away
 yourself. She adds, moreover, that you should put
 your lord into a desperate assurance she will none
 of him. And one thing more, that you be never so
10 hardy to come again in his affairs unless it be to
 report your lord’s taking of this. Receive it so.
VIOLA She took the ring of me. I’ll none of it.
MALVOLIO Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her, and
 her will is it should be so returned.  He throws
 down the ring. 
15If it be worth stooping for, there it

 lies in your eye; if not, be it his that finds it.
He exits.
 I left no ring with her. What means this lady?
She picks up the ring.
 Fortune forbid my outside have not charmed her!
 She made good view of me, indeed so much
20 That methought her eyes had lost her tongue,
 For she did speak in starts distractedly.
 She loves me, sure! The cunning of her passion
 Invites me in this churlish messenger.
 None of my lord’s ring? Why, he sent her none!
25 I am the man. If it be so, as ’tis,
 Poor lady, she were better love a dream.
 Disguise, I see thou art a wickedness
 Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.
 How easy is it for the proper false
30 In women’s waxen hearts to set their forms!
 Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we,
 For such as we are made of, such we be.
 How will this fadge? My master loves her dearly,
 And I, poor monster, fond as much on him,
35 And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me.
 What will become of this? As I am man,
 My state is desperate for my master’s love.
 As I am woman (now, alas the day!),



 What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe!
40 O Time, thou must untangle this, not I.
 It is too hard a knot for me t’ untie.
She exits.


Scene 3

Enter Sir Toby and Sir Andrew.

TOBY Approach, Sir Andrew. Not to be abed after
 midnight is to be up betimes, and “diluculo surgere,”
 thou know’st—
ANDREW Nay, by my troth, I know not. But I know to
5 be up late is to be up late.
TOBY A false conclusion. I hate it as an unfilled can. To
 be up after midnight and to go to bed then, is early,
 so that to go to bed after midnight is to go to bed
 betimes. Does not our lives consist of the four
10 elements?
ANDREW Faith, so they say, but I think it rather consists
 of eating and drinking.
TOBY Thou ’rt a scholar. Let us therefore eat and
 drink. Marian, I say, a stoup of wine!

Enter Feste, the Fool.

ANDREW 15Here comes the Fool, i’ faith.
FOOL How now, my hearts? Did you never see the
 picture of We Three?
TOBY Welcome, ass! Now let’s have a catch.
ANDREW By my troth, the Fool has an excellent breast.
20 I had rather than forty shillings I had such a leg,
 and so sweet a breath to sing, as the Fool has.—In
 sooth, thou wast in very gracious fooling last night
 when thou spok’st of Pigrogromitus of the Vapians
 passing the equinoctial of Queubus. ’Twas very
25 good, i’ faith. I sent thee sixpence for thy leman.
 Hadst it?



FOOL I did impeticos thy gratillity, for Malvolio’s nose
 is no whipstock, my lady has a white hand, and the
 Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses.
ANDREW 30Excellent! Why, this is the best fooling when
 all is done. Now, a song!
TOBY , giving money to the Fool Come on, there is
 sixpence for you. Let’s have a song.
ANDREW , giving money to the Fool There’s a testril of
35 me, too. If one knight give a—
FOOL Would you have a love song or a song of good
TOBY A love song, a love song.
ANDREW Ay, ay, I care not for good life.
FOOL  sings 
40 O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
 O, stay and hear! Your truelove’s coming,
  That can sing both high and low.
 Trip no further, pretty sweeting .
 Journeys end in lovers meeting,
45  Every wise man’s son doth know.

ANDREW Excellent good, i’ faith!
TOBY Good, good.
FOOL  sings 
 What is love? ’Tis not hereafter.
 Present mirth hath present laughter.
50  What’s to come is still unsure.
 In delay there lies no plenty,
 Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty.
  Youth’s a stuff will not endure.

ANDREW A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight.
TOBY 55A contagious breath.
ANDREW Very sweet and contagious, i’ faith.
TOBY To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in contagion.
 But shall we make the welkin dance indeed? Shall
 we rouse the night owl in a catch that will draw
60 three souls out of one weaver? Shall we do that?



ANDREW An you love me, let’s do ’t. I am dog at a
FOOL By ’r Lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well.
ANDREW Most certain. Let our catch be “Thou
65 Knave.”
FOOL “Hold thy peace, thou knave,” knight? I shall be
 constrained in ’t to call thee “knave,” knight.
ANDREW ’Tis not the first time I have constrained one
 to call me “knave.” Begin, Fool. It begins “Hold
70 thy peace.”
FOOL I shall never begin if I hold my peace.
ANDREW Good, i’ faith. Come, begin. Catch sung.

Enter Maria.

MARIA What a caterwauling do you keep here! If my
 lady have not called up her steward Malvolio and
75 bid him turn you out of doors, never trust me.
TOBY My lady’s a Cataian, we are politicians, Malvolio’s
 a Peg-a-Ramsey, and  Sings. Three merry men be
 Am not I consanguineous? Am I not of her

 blood? Tillyvally! “Lady”!  Sings. There dwelt a man
80 in Babylon, lady, lady.

FOOL Beshrew me, the knight’s in admirable fooling.
ANDREW Ay, he does well enough if he be disposed,
 and so do I, too. He does it with a better grace, but
 I do it more natural.
TOBY  sings 85O’ the twelfth day of December
MARIA For the love o’ God, peace!

Enter Malvolio.

MALVOLIO My masters, are you mad? Or what are you?
 Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty but to
 gabble like tinkers at this time of night? Do you
90 make an ale-house of my lady’s house, that you
 squeak out your coziers’ catches without any mitigation
 or remorse of voice? Is there no respect of
 place, persons, nor time in you?



TOBY We did keep time, sir, in our catches. Sneck up!
MALVOLIO 95Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My lady
 bade me tell you that, though she harbors you as her
 kinsman, she’s nothing allied to your disorders. If
 you can separate yourself and your misdemeanors,
 you are welcome to the house; if not, an it would
100 please you to take leave of her, she is very willing to
 bid you farewell.
TOBY  sings 
  Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be gone.
MARIA Nay, good Sir Toby.
FOOL  sings 
  His eyes do show his days are almost done.
MALVOLIO 105Is ’t even so?
TOBY  sings 
  But I will never die.
FOOL  sings 
  Sir Toby, there you lie.
MALVOLIO This is much credit to you.
TOBY  sings 
  Shall I bid him go?
FOOL  sings 
110  What an if you do?
TOBY  sings 
  Shall I bid him go, and spare not?
FOOL  sings 
  O no, no, no, no, you dare not.
TOBY Out o’ tune, sir? You lie. Art any more than a
 steward? Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous,
115 there shall be no more cakes and ale?
FOOL Yes, by Saint Anne, and ginger shall be hot i’ th’
 mouth, too.
TOBY Thou ’rt i’ th’ right.—Go, sir, rub your chain
 with crumbs.—A stoup of wine, Maria!
MALVOLIO 120Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady’s favor
 at anything more than contempt, you would not give



 means for this uncivil rule. She shall know of it, by
 this hand. He exits.
MARIA Go shake your ears!
ANDREW 125’Twere as good a deed as to drink when a
 man’s a-hungry, to challenge him the field and
 then to break promise with him and make a fool of
TOBY Do ’t, knight. I’ll write thee a challenge. Or I’ll
130 deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth.
MARIA Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for tonight. Since the
 youth of the Count’s was today with my lady, she is
 much out of quiet. For Monsieur Malvolio, let me
 alone with him. If I do not gull him into a nayword
135 and make him a common recreation, do not think I
 have wit enough to lie straight in my bed. I know I
 can do it.
TOBY Possess us, possess us, tell us something of him.
MARIA Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of puritan.
ANDREW 140O, if I thought that, I’d beat him like a dog!
TOBY What, for being a puritan? Thy exquisite reason,
 dear knight?
ANDREW I have no exquisite reason for ’t, but I have
 reason good enough.
MARIA 145The devil a puritan that he is, or anything
 constantly but a time-pleaser; an affectioned ass
 that cons state without book and utters it by great
 swaths; the best persuaded of himself, so crammed,
 as he thinks, with excellencies, that it is his grounds
150 of faith that all that look on him love him. And on
 that vice in him will my revenge find notable cause
 to work.
TOBY What wilt thou do?
MARIA I will drop in his way some obscure epistles of
155 love, wherein by the color of his beard, the shape of
 his leg, the manner of his gait, the expressure of his
 eye, forehead, and complexion, he shall find himself



 most feelingly personated. I can write very like my
 lady your niece; on a forgotten matter, we can
160 hardly make distinction of our hands.
TOBY Excellent! I smell a device.
ANDREW I have ’t in my nose, too.
TOBY He shall think, by the letters that thou wilt drop,
 that they come from my niece, and that she’s in
165 love with him.
MARIA My purpose is indeed a horse of that color.
ANDREW And your horse now would make him an ass.
MARIA Ass, I doubt not.
ANDREW O, ’twill be admirable!
MARIA 170Sport royal, I warrant you. I know my physic
 will work with him. I will plant you two, and let the
 Fool make a third, where he shall find the letter.
 Observe his construction of it. For this night, to bed,
 and dream on the event. Farewell.
TOBY 175Good night, Penthesilea. She exits.
ANDREW Before me, she’s a good wench.
TOBY She’s a beagle true bred, and one that adores
 me. What o’ that?
ANDREW I was adored once, too.
TOBY 180Let’s to bed, knight. Thou hadst need send for
 more money.
ANDREW If I cannot recover your niece, I am a foul way
TOBY Send for money, knight. If thou hast her not i’
185 th’ end, call me “Cut.”
ANDREW If I do not, never trust me, take it how you
TOBY Come, come, I’ll go burn some sack. ’Tis too
 late to go to bed now. Come, knight; come, knight.
They exit.




Scene 4

Enter Orsino, Viola, Curio, and others.

 Give me some music.  Music plays. Now, good
 morrow, friends.—
 Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song,
 That old and antique song we heard last night.
5 Methought it did relieve my passion much,
 More than light airs and recollected terms
 Of these most brisk and giddy-pacèd times.
 Come, but one verse.
CURIO He is not here, so please your Lordship, that
10 should sing it.
ORSINO Who was it?
CURIO Feste the jester, my lord, a Fool that the Lady
 Olivia’s father took much delight in. He is about
 the house.
15 Seek him out  Curio exits, and play the tune the
 while. Music plays.
  To Viola. Come hither, boy. If ever thou shalt love,
 In the sweet pangs of it remember me,
 For such as I am, all true lovers are,
20 Unstaid and skittish in all motions else
 Save in the constant image of the creature
 That is beloved. How dost thou like this tune?
 It gives a very echo to the seat
 Where love is throned.
ORSINO 25 Thou dost speak masterly.
 My life upon ’t, young though thou art, thine eye
 Hath stayed upon some favor that it loves.
 Hath it not, boy?
VIOLA  A little, by your favor.



30 What kind of woman is ’t?
VIOLA  Of your complexion.
 She is not worth thee, then. What years, i’ faith?
VIOLA About your years, my lord.
 Too old, by heaven. Let still the woman take
35 An elder than herself. So wears she to him;
 So sways she level in her husband’s heart.
 For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,
 Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,
 More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn,
40 Than women’s are.
VIOLA  I think it well, my lord.
 Then let thy love be younger than thyself,
 Or thy affection cannot hold the bent.
 For women are as roses, whose fair flower,
45 Being once displayed, doth fall that very hour.
 And so they are. Alas, that they are so,
 To die even when they to perfection grow!

Enter Curio and Feste, the Fool.

 O, fellow, come, the song we had last night.—
 Mark it, Cesario. It is old and plain;
50 The spinsters and the knitters in the sun
 And the free maids that weave their thread with
 Do use to chant it. It is silly sooth,
 And dallies with the innocence of love
55 Like the old age.
FOOL Are you ready, sir?
ORSINO Ay, prithee, sing. Music.



The Song.

 Come away, come away, death,
  And in sad cypress let me be laid.
60 Fly away, fly away, breath,
  I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
 My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,
  O, prepare it!
 My part of death, no one so true
65  Did share it.

 Not a flower, not a flower sweet
  On my black coffin let there be strown;
 Not a friend, not a friend greet
  My poor corpse where my bones shall be thrown.
70 A thousand thousand sighs to save,
  Lay me, O, where
 Sad true lover never find my grave
  To weep there.
ORSINO , giving money There’s for thy pains.
FOOL 75No pains, sir. I take pleasure in singing, sir.
ORSINO I’ll pay thy pleasure, then.
FOOL Truly sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or
ORSINO Give me now leave to leave thee.
FOOL 80Now the melancholy god protect thee and the
 tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffeta, for thy
 mind is a very opal. I would have men of such
 constancy put to sea, that their business might be
 everything and their intent everywhere, for that’s it
85 that always makes a good voyage of nothing.
 Farewell. He exits.
 Let all the rest give place.
All but Orsino and Viola exit.
 Once more, Cesario,



 Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty.
90 Tell her my love, more noble than the world,
 Prizes not quantity of dirty lands.
 The parts that Fortune hath bestowed upon her,
 Tell her, I hold as giddily as Fortune.
 But ’tis that miracle and queen of gems
95 That nature pranks her in attracts my soul.
VIOLA But if she cannot love you, sir—
 I cannot be so answered.
VIOLA  Sooth, but you must.
 Say that some lady, as perhaps there is,
100 Hath for your love as great a pang of heart
 As you have for Olivia. You cannot love her;
 You tell her so. Must she not then be answered?
ORSINO There is no woman’s sides
 Can bide the beating of so strong a passion
105 As love doth give my heart; no woman’s heart
 So big, to hold so much; they lack retention.
 Alas, their love may be called appetite,
 No motion of the liver but the palate,
 That suffer surfeit, cloyment, and revolt;
110 But mine is all as hungry as the sea,
 And can digest as much. Make no compare
 Between that love a woman can bear me
 And that I owe Olivia.
VIOLA  Ay, but I know—
ORSINO 115What dost thou know?
 Too well what love women to men may owe.
 In faith, they are as true of heart as we.
 My father had a daughter loved a man
 As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman,
120 I should your Lordship.
ORSINO  And what’s her history?



 A blank, my lord. She never told her love,
 But let concealment, like a worm i’ th’ bud,
 Feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought,
125 And with a green and yellow melancholy
 She sat like Patience on a monument,
 Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?
 We men may say more, swear more, but indeed
 Our shows are more than will; for still we prove
130 Much in our vows but little in our love.
 But died thy sister of her love, my boy?
 I am all the daughters of my father’s house,
 And all the brothers, too—and yet I know not.
 Sir, shall I to this lady?
ORSINO 135 Ay, that’s the theme.
 To her in haste. Give her this jewel. Say
 My love can give no place, bide no denay.
He hands her a jewel and they exit.


Scene 5

Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian.

TOBY Come thy ways, Signior Fabian.
FABIAN Nay, I’ll come. If I lose a scruple of this sport,
 let me be boiled to death with melancholy.
TOBY Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly
5 rascally sheep-biter come by some notable shame?
FABIAN I would exult, man. You know he brought me
 out o’ favor with my lady about a bearbaiting here.
TOBY To anger him, we’ll have the bear again, and we
 will fool him black and blue, shall we not, Sir
10 Andrew?
ANDREW An we do not, it is pity of our lives.



Enter Maria.

TOBY Here comes the little villain.—How now, my
 metal of India?
MARIA Get you all three into the boxtree. Malvolio’s
15 coming down this walk. He has been yonder i’ the
 sun practicing behavior to his own shadow this half
 hour. Observe him, for the love of mockery, for I
 know this letter will make a contemplative idiot of
 him. Close, in the name of jesting!  They hide. Lie
20 thou there  putting down the letter, for here comes
 the trout that must be caught with tickling.
She exits.

Enter Malvolio.

MALVOLIO ’Tis but fortune, all is fortune. Maria once
 told me she did affect me, and I have heard herself
 come thus near, that should she fancy, it should be
25 one of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a
 more exalted respect than anyone else that follows
 her. What should I think on ’t?
TOBY , aside Here’s an overweening rogue.
FABIAN , aside O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare
30 turkeycock of him. How he jets under his advanced
ANDREW , aside ’Slight, I could so beat the rogue!
TOBY , aside Peace, I say.
MALVOLIO To be Count Malvolio.
TOBY , aside 35Ah, rogue!
ANDREW , aside Pistol him, pistol him!
TOBY , aside Peace, peace!
MALVOLIO There is example for ’t. The lady of the
 Strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe.
ANDREW , aside 40Fie on him, Jezebel!
FABIAN , aside O, peace, now he’s deeply in. Look how
 imagination blows him.



MALVOLIO Having been three months married to her,
 sitting in my state—
TOBY , aside 45O, for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye!
MALVOLIO Calling my officers about me, in my
 branched velvet gown, having come from a daybed
 where I have left Olivia sleeping—
TOBY , aside Fire and brimstone!
FABIAN , aside 50O, peace, peace!
MALVOLIO And then to have the humor of state; and
 after a demure travel of regard, telling them I
 know my place, as I would they should do theirs, to
 ask for my kinsman Toby—
TOBY , aside 55Bolts and shackles!
FABIAN , aside O, peace, peace, peace! Now, now.
MALVOLIO Seven of my people, with an obedient start,
 make out for him. I frown the while, and perchance
 wind up my watch, or play with my—some
60 rich jewel. Toby approaches; curtsies there to me—
TOBY , aside Shall this fellow live?
FABIAN , aside Though our silence be drawn from us
 with cars, yet peace!
MALVOLIO I extend my hand to him thus, quenching
65 my familiar smile with an austere regard of
TOBY , aside And does not Toby take you a blow o’ the
 lips then?
MALVOLIO Saying, “Cousin Toby, my fortunes, having
70 cast me on your niece, give me this prerogative of
TOBY , aside What, what?
MALVOLIO “You must amend your drunkenness.”
TOBY , aside Out, scab!
FABIAN , aside 75Nay, patience, or we break the sinews
 of our plot!
MALVOLIO “Besides, you waste the treasure of your
 time with a foolish knight—”



ANDREW , aside That’s me, I warrant you.
MALVOLIO 80“One Sir Andrew.”
ANDREW , aside I knew ’twas I, for many do call me
MALVOLIO , seeing the letter What employment have
 we here?
FABIAN , aside 85Now is the woodcock near the gin.
TOBY , aside O, peace, and the spirit of humors intimate
 reading aloud to him.
MALVOLIO , taking up the letter By my life, this is my
 lady’s hand! These be her very c’s, her u’s, and her
90 t’s, and thus she makes her great P’s. It is in
 contempt of question her hand.
ANDREW , aside Her c’s, her u’s, and her t’s. Why that?
MALVOLIO  reads To the unknown beloved, this, and my
 good wishes
—Her very phrases! By your leave, wax.

95 Soft. And the impressure her Lucrece, with which
 she uses to seal—’tis my lady!  He opens the letter.
 To whom should this be?
FABIAN , aside This wins him, liver and all.
MALVOLIO  reads 
 Jove knows I love,
100  But who?
 Lips, do not move;
  No man must know.

 “No man must know.” What follows? The numbers
 altered. “No man must know.” If this should be
105 thee, Malvolio!
TOBY , aside Marry, hang thee, brock!
MALVOLIO  reads 
 I may command where I adore,
  But silence, like a Lucrece knife,
 With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore;
110  M.O.A.I. doth sway my life.

FABIAN , aside A fustian riddle!
TOBY , aside Excellent wench, say I.



MALVOLIO “M.O.A.I. doth sway my life.” Nay, but first
 let me see, let me see, let me see.
FABIAN , aside 115What dish o’ poison has she dressed
TOBY , aside And with what wing the staniel checks
 at it!
MALVOLIO “I may command where I adore.” Why, she
120 may command me; I serve her; she is my lady. Why,
 this is evident to any formal capacity. There is no
 obstruction in this. And the end—what should that
 alphabetical position portend? If I could make that
 resemble something in me! Softly! “M.O.A.I.”—
TOBY , aside 125O, ay, make up that.—He is now at a cold
FABIAN , aside Sowter will cry upon ’t for all this,
 though it be as rank as a fox.
MALVOLIO “M”—Malvolio. “M”—why, that begins
130 my name!
FABIAN , aside Did not I say he would work it out? The
 cur is excellent at faults.
MALVOLIO “M.” But then there is no consonancy in
 the sequel that suffers under probation. “A” should
135 follow, but “O” does.
FABIAN , aside And “O” shall end, I hope.
TOBY , aside Ay, or I’ll cudgel him and make him cry
MALVOLIO And then “I” comes behind.
FABIAN , aside 140Ay, an you had any eye behind you, you
 might see more detraction at your heels than fortunes
 before you.
MALVOLIO “M.O.A.I.” This simulation is not as the
 former, and yet to crush this a little, it would bow
145 to me, for every one of these letters are in my name.
 Soft, here follows prose.
  He reads. If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my
 stars I am above thee, but be not afraid of greatness.



 Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and
150 some have greatness thrust upon ’em. Thy fates open
 their hands. Let thy blood and spirit embrace them.
 And, to inure thyself to what thou art like to be, cast
 thy humble slough and appear fresh. Be opposite with
 a kinsman, surly with servants. Let thy tongue tang
155 arguments of state. Put thyself into the trick of singularity.
 She thus advises thee that sighs for thee.
 Remember who commended thy yellow stockings and
 wished to see thee ever cross-gartered. I say, remember.
 Go to, thou art made, if thou desir’st to be so. If
160 not, let me see thee a steward still, the fellow of
 servants, and not worthy to touch Fortune’s fingers.
 Farewell. She that would alter services with thee,
The Fortunate-Unhappy.
 Daylight and champian discovers not more! This is
165 open. I will be proud, I will read politic authors, I
 will baffle Sir Toby, I will wash off gross acquaintance,
 I will be point-devise the very man. I do not
 now fool myself, to let imagination jade me; for
 every reason excites to this, that my lady loves me.
170 She did commend my yellow stockings of late, she
 did praise my leg being cross-gartered, and in this
 she manifests herself to my love and, with a kind of
 injunction, drives me to these habits of her liking. I
 thank my stars, I am happy. I will be strange, stout,
175 in yellow stockings, and cross-gartered, even with
 the swiftness of putting on. Jove and my stars be
 praised! Here is yet a postscript.
  He reads. Thou canst not choose but know who I
 am. If thou entertain’st my love, let it appear in thy
180 smiling; thy smiles become thee well. Therefore in my
 presence still smile, dear my sweet, I prithee.

 Jove, I thank thee! I will smile. I will do everything
 that thou wilt have me. He exits.



FABIAN I will not give my part of this sport for a
185 pension of thousands to be paid from the Sophy.
TOBY I could marry this wench for this device.
ANDREW So could I too.
TOBY And ask no other dowry with her but such
 another jest.
ANDREW 190Nor I neither.

Enter Maria.

FABIAN Here comes my noble gull-catcher.
TOBY Wilt thou set thy foot o’ my neck?
ANDREW Or o’ mine either?
TOBY Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip and become
195 thy bondslave?
ANDREW I’ faith, or I either?
TOBY Why, thou hast put him in such a dream that
 when the image of it leaves him he must run mad.
MARIA Nay, but say true, does it work upon him?
TOBY 200Like aqua vitae with a midwife.
MARIA If you will then see the fruits of the sport,
 mark his first approach before my lady. He will
 come to her in yellow stockings, and ’tis a color
 she abhors, and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests;
205 and he will smile upon her, which will now
 be so unsuitable to her disposition, being addicted
 to a melancholy as she is, that it cannot
 but turn him into a notable contempt. If you will
 see it, follow me.
TOBY 210To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil
 of wit!
ANDREW I’ll make one, too.
They exit.




Scene 1

Enter Viola and Feste, the Fool, playing a tabor.

VIOLA Save thee, friend, and thy music. Dost thou live
 by thy tabor?
FOOL No, sir, I live by the church.
VIOLA Art thou a churchman?
FOOL 5No such matter, sir. I do live by the church, for I
 do live at my house, and my house doth stand by the
VIOLA So thou mayst say the king lies by a beggar if a
 beggar dwell near him, or the church stands by thy
10 tabor if thy tabor stand by the church.
FOOL You have said, sir. To see this age! A sentence is
 but a chev’ril glove to a good wit. How quickly the
 wrong side may be turned outward!
VIOLA Nay, that’s certain. They that dally nicely with
15 words may quickly make them wanton.
FOOL I would therefore my sister had had no name,
VIOLA Why, man?
FOOL Why, sir, her name’s a word, and to dally with
20 that word might make my sister wanton. But,
 indeed, words are very rascals since bonds disgraced
VIOLA Thy reason, man?



FOOL Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words,
25 and words are grown so false I am loath to prove
 reason with them.
VIOLA I warrant thou art a merry fellow and car’st for
FOOL Not so, sir. I do care for something. But in my
30 conscience, sir, I do not care for you. If that be to
 care for nothing, sir, I would it would make you
VIOLA Art not thou the Lady Olivia’s Fool?
FOOL No, indeed, sir. The Lady Olivia has no folly. She
35 will keep no Fool, sir, till she be married, and Fools
 are as like husbands as pilchers are to herrings: the
 husband’s the bigger. I am indeed not her Fool but
 her corrupter of words.
VIOLA I saw thee late at the Count Orsino’s.
FOOL 40Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the
 sun; it shines everywhere. I would be sorry, sir, but
 the Fool should be as oft with your master as with
 my mistress. I think I saw your Wisdom there.
VIOLA Nay, an thou pass upon me, I’ll no more with
45 thee. Hold, there’s expenses for thee.  Giving a

FOOL Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send
 thee a beard!
VIOLA By my troth I’ll tell thee, I am almost sick for
 one,  aside though I would not have it grow on my
50 chin.—Is thy lady within?
FOOL Would not a pair of these have bred, sir?
VIOLA Yes, being kept together and put to use.
FOOL I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia, sir, to
 bring a Cressida to this Troilus.
VIOLA 55I understand you, sir. ’Tis well begged.  Giving
 another coin.

FOOL The matter I hope is not great, sir, begging but a
 beggar: Cressida was a beggar. 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
60 might say “element,” but the word is overworn.
He exits.
 This fellow is wise enough to play the Fool,
 And to do that well craves a kind of wit.
 He must observe their mood on whom he jests,
 The quality of persons, and the time,
65 And, like the haggard, check at every feather
 That comes before his eye. This is a practice
 As full of labor as a wise man’s art:
 For folly that he wisely shows is fit;
 But wise men, folly-fall’n, quite taint their wit.

Enter Sir Toby and Andrew.

TOBY 70Save you, gentleman.
VIOLA And you, sir.
ANDREW Dieu vous garde, monsieur.
VIOLA Et vous aussi. Votre serviteur!
ANDREW I hope, sir, you are, and I am yours.
TOBY 75Will you encounter the house? My niece is
 desirous you should enter, if your trade be to her.
VIOLA I am bound to your niece, sir; I mean, she is the
 list of my voyage.
TOBY Taste your legs, sir; put them to motion.
VIOLA 80My legs do better understand me, sir, than I
 understand what you mean by bidding me taste my
TOBY I mean, to go, sir, to enter.
VIOLA I will answer you with gait and entrance—but
85 we are prevented.

Enter Olivia, and Maria, her Gentlewoman.

 Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain
 odors on you!



ANDREW , aside That youth’s a rare courtier. “Rain
 odors,” well.
VIOLA 90My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your own
 most pregnant and vouchsafed ear.
ANDREW , aside “Odors,” “pregnant,” and “vouchsafed.”
 I’ll get ’em all three all ready.
OLIVIA Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to
95 my hearing. Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Maria exit.
 Give me your hand, sir.
 My duty, madam, and most humble service.
OLIVIA What is your name?
 Cesario is your servant’s name, fair princess.
100 My servant, sir? ’Twas never merry world
 Since lowly feigning was called compliment.
 You’re servant to the Count Orsino, youth.
 And he is yours, and his must needs be yours.
 Your servant’s servant is your servant, madam.
105 For him, I think not on him. For his thoughts,
 Would they were blanks rather than filled with me.
 Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts
 On his behalf.
OLIVIA  O, by your leave, I pray you.
110 I bade you never speak again of him.
 But would you undertake another suit,
 I had rather hear you to solicit that
 Than music from the spheres.
VIOLA  Dear lady—
115 Give me leave, beseech you. I did send,
 After the last enchantment you did here,



 A ring in chase of you. So did I abuse
 Myself, my servant, and, I fear me, you.
 Under your hard construction must I sit,
120 To force that on you in a shameful cunning
 Which you knew none of yours. What might you
 Have you not set mine honor at the stake
 And baited it with all th’ unmuzzled thoughts
125 That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your
 Enough is shown. A cypress, not a bosom,
 Hides my heart. So, let me hear you speak.
 I pity you.
OLIVIA 130 That’s a degree to love.
 No, not a grize, for ’tis a vulgar proof
 That very oft we pity enemies.
 Why then methinks ’tis time to smile again.
 O world, how apt the poor are to be proud!
135 If one should be a prey, how much the better
 To fall before the lion than the wolf. Clock strikes.
 The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.
 Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you.
 And yet when wit and youth is come to harvest,
140 Your wife is like to reap a proper man.
 There lies your way, due west.
VIOLA  Then westward ho!
 Grace and good disposition attend your Ladyship.
 You’ll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?
145 Stay. I prithee, tell me what thou think’st of me.
 That you do think you are not what you are.



 If I think so, I think the same of you.
 Then think you right. I am not what I am.
 I would you were as I would have you be.
150 Would it be better, madam, than I am?
 I wish it might, for now I am your fool.
OLIVIA , aside 
 O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
 In the contempt and anger of his lip!
 A murd’rous guilt shows not itself more soon
155 Than love that would seem hid. Love’s night is
 Cesario, by the roses of the spring,
 By maidhood, honor, truth, and everything,
 I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride,
160 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;
 But rather reason thus with reason fetter:
 Love sought is good, but given unsought is better.
165 By innocence I swear, and by my youth,
 I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth,
 And that no woman has, nor never none
 Shall mistress be of it, save I alone.
 And so adieu, good madam. Nevermore
170 Will I my master’s tears to you deplore.
 Yet come again, for thou perhaps mayst move
 That heart, which now abhors, to like his love.
They exit in different directions.




Scene 2

Enter Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian.

ANDREW No, faith, I’ll not stay a jot longer.
TOBY Thy reason, dear venom, give thy reason.
FABIAN You must needs yield your reason, Sir Andrew.
ANDREW Marry, I saw your niece do more favors to the
5 Count’s servingman than ever she bestowed upon
 me. I saw ’t i’ th’ orchard.
TOBY Did she see thee the while, old boy? Tell me
ANDREW As plain as I see you now.
FABIAN 10This was a great argument of love in her toward
ANDREW ’Slight, will you make an ass o’ me?
FABIAN I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of
 judgment and reason.
TOBY 15And they have been grand-jurymen since before
 Noah was a sailor.
FABIAN She did show favor to the youth in your sight
 only to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse
 valor, to put fire in your heart and brimstone in
20 your liver. You should then have accosted her, and
 with some excellent jests, fire-new from the mint,
 you should have banged the youth into dumbness.
 This was looked for at your hand, and this was
 balked. The double gilt of this opportunity you let
25 time wash off, and you are now sailed into the north
 of my lady’s opinion, where you will hang like an
 icicle on a Dutchman’s beard, unless you do redeem
 it by some laudable attempt either of valor or
ANDREW 30An ’t be any way, it must be with valor, for
 policy I hate. I had as lief be a Brownist as a
TOBY Why, then, build me thy fortunes upon the basis



 of valor. Challenge me the Count’s youth to fight
35 with him. Hurt him in eleven places. My niece shall
 take note of it, and assure thyself there is no
 love-broker in the world can more prevail in man’s
 commendation with woman than report of valor.
FABIAN There is no way but this, Sir Andrew.
ANDREW 40Will either of you bear me a challenge to him?
TOBY Go, write it in a martial hand. Be curst and
 brief. It is no matter how witty, so it be eloquent
 and full of invention. Taunt him with the license of
 ink. If thou “thou”-est him some thrice, it shall not
45 be amiss, and as many lies as will lie in thy sheet of
 paper, although the sheet were big enough for the
 bed of Ware in England, set ’em down. Go, about it.
 Let there be gall enough in thy ink, though thou
 write with a goose-pen, no matter. About it.
ANDREW 50Where shall I find you?
TOBY We’ll call thee at the cubiculo. Go.
Sir Andrew exits.
FABIAN This is a dear manikin to you, Sir Toby.
TOBY I have been dear to him, lad, some two thousand
 strong or so.
FABIAN 55We shall have a rare letter from him. But you’ll
 not deliver ’t?
TOBY Never trust me, then. And by all means stir on
 the youth to an answer. I think oxen and wainropes
 cannot hale them together. For Andrew, if he were
60 opened and you find so much blood in his liver as
 will clog the foot of a flea, I’ll eat the rest of th’
FABIAN And his opposite, the youth, bears in his visage
 no great presage of cruelty.

Enter Maria.

TOBY 65Look where the youngest wren of mine comes.
MARIA If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourselves



 into stitches, follow me. Yond gull Malvolio is
 turned heathen, a very renegado; for there is no
 Christian that means to be saved by believing rightly
70 can ever believe such impossible passages of grossness.
 He’s in yellow stockings.
TOBY And cross-gartered?
MARIA Most villainously, like a pedant that keeps a
 school i’ th’ church. I have dogged him like his
75 murderer. He does obey every point of the letter
 that I dropped to betray him. He does smile his face
 into more lines than is in the new map with the
 augmentation of the Indies. You have not seen such
 a thing as ’tis. I can hardly forbear hurling things at
80 him. I know my lady will strike him. If she do, he’ll
 smile and take ’t for a great favor.
TOBY Come, bring us, bring us where he is.
They all exit.


Scene 3

Enter Sebastian and Antonio.

 I would not by my will have troubled you,
 But, since you make your pleasure of your pains,
 I will no further chide you.
 I could not stay behind you. My desire,
5 More sharp than filèd steel, did spur me forth;
 And not all love to see you, though so much
 As might have drawn one to a longer voyage,
 But jealousy what might befall your travel,
 Being skill-less in these parts, which to a stranger,
10 Unguided and unfriended, often prove
 Rough and unhospitable. My willing love,
 The rather by these arguments of fear,
 Set forth in your pursuit.



SEBASTIAN  My kind Antonio,
15 I can no other answer make but thanks,
 And thanks, and ever thanks; and oft good turns
 Are shuffled off with such uncurrent pay.
 But were my worth, as is my conscience, firm,
 You should find better dealing. What’s to do?
20 Shall we go see the relics of this town?
 Tomorrow, sir. Best first go see your lodging.
 I am not weary, and ’tis long to night.
 I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes
 With the memorials and the things of fame
25 That do renown this city.
ANTONIO Would you’d pardon me.
 I do not without danger walk these streets.
 Once in a sea fight ’gainst the Count his galleys
 I did some service, of such note indeed
30 That were I ta’en here it would scarce be answered.
 Belike you slew great number of his people?
 Th’ offense is not of such a bloody nature,
 Albeit the quality of the time and quarrel
 Might well have given us bloody argument.
35 It might have since been answered in repaying
 What we took from them, which, for traffic’s sake,
 Most of our city did. Only myself stood out,
 For which, if I be lapsèd in this place,
 I shall pay dear.
SEBASTIAN 40 Do not then walk too open.
 It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here’s my purse.
Giving him money.
 In the south suburbs, at the Elephant,
 Is best to lodge. I will bespeak our diet



 Whiles you beguile the time and feed your
45 knowledge
 With viewing of the town. There shall you have me.
SEBASTIAN Why I your purse?
 Haply your eye shall light upon some toy
 You have desire to purchase, and your store,
50 I think, is not for idle markets, sir.
 I’ll be your purse-bearer and leave you
 For an hour.
ANTONIO  To th’ Elephant.
SEBASTIAN  I do remember.
They exit in different directions.


Scene 4

Enter Olivia and Maria.

OLIVIA , aside 
 I have sent after him. He says he’ll come.
 How shall I feast him? What bestow of him?
 For youth is bought more oft than begged or
5 I speak too loud.—
 Where’s Malvolio? He is sad and civil
 And suits well for a servant with my fortunes.
 Where is Malvolio?
MARIA He’s coming, madam, but in very strange manner.
10 He is sure possessed, madam.
OLIVIA Why, what’s the matter? Does he rave?
MARIA No, madam, he does nothing but smile. Your
 Ladyship were best to have some guard about you if
 he come, for sure the man is tainted in ’s wits.
15 Go call him hither.  Maria exits. I am as mad as he,
 If sad and merry madness equal be.



Enter Maria with Malvolio.

 How now, Malvolio?
MALVOLIO  Sweet lady, ho, ho!
OLIVIA Smil’st thou? I sent for thee upon a sad
20 occasion.
MALVOLIO Sad, lady? I could be sad. This does make
 some obstruction in the blood, this cross-gartering,
 but what of that? If it please the eye of one, it is
 with me as the very true sonnet is: “Please one, and
25 please all.”
OLIVIA Why, how dost thou, man? What is the matter
 with thee?
MALVOLIO Not black in my mind, though yellow in my
 legs. It did come to his hands, and commands shall
30 be executed. I think we do know the sweet Roman
OLIVIA Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio?
MALVOLIO To bed? “Ay, sweetheart, and I’ll come to
OLIVIA 35God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so, and
 kiss thy hand so oft?
MARIA How do you, Malvolio?
MALVOLIO At your request? Yes, nightingales answer
MARIA 40Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness
 before my lady?
MALVOLIO “Be not afraid of greatness.” ’Twas well
OLIVIA What mean’st thou by that, Malvolio?
MALVOLIO 45“Some are born great—”
MALVOLIO “Some achieve greatness—”
OLIVIA What sayst thou?
MALVOLIO “And some have greatness thrust upon
50 them.”



OLIVIA Heaven restore thee!
MALVOLIO “Remember who commended thy yellow
OLIVIA Thy yellow stockings?
MALVOLIO 55“And wished to see thee cross-gartered.”
OLIVIA Cross-gartered?
MALVOLIO “Go to, thou art made, if thou desir’st to be
OLIVIA Am I made?
MALVOLIO 60“If not, let me see thee a servant still.”
OLIVIA Why, this is very midsummer madness!

Enter Servant.

SERVANT Madam, the young gentleman of the Count
 Orsino’s is returned. I could hardly entreat him
 back. He attends your Ladyship’s pleasure.
OLIVIA 65I’ll come to him.  Servant exits. Good Maria, let
 this fellow be looked to. Where’s my Cousin Toby?
 Let some of my people have a special care of him. I
 would not have him miscarry for the half of my
Olivia and Maria exit in different directions.
MALVOLIO 70O ho, do you come near me now? No worse
 man than Sir Toby to look to me. This concurs
 directly with the letter. She sends him on purpose
 that I may appear stubborn to him, for she incites
 me to that in the letter: “Cast thy humble slough,”
75 says she. “Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with
 servants; let thy tongue tang with arguments of
 state; put thyself into the trick of singularity,” and
 consequently sets down the manner how: as, a sad
 face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in the habit
80 of some Sir of note, and so forth. I have limed her,
 but it is Jove’s doing, and Jove make me thankful!
 And when she went away now, “Let this fellow be
 looked to.” “Fellow!” Not “Malvolio,” nor after my



 degree, but “fellow.” Why, everything adheres together,
85 that no dram of a scruple, no scruple of a
 scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous or unsafe
 circumstance—what can be said? Nothing that can
 be can come between me and the full prospect of
 my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and
90 he is to be thanked.

Enter Toby, Fabian, and Maria.

TOBY Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all
 the devils of hell be drawn in little, and Legion
 himself possessed him, yet I’ll speak to him.
FABIAN Here he is, here he is.—How is ’t with you, sir?
95 How is ’t with you, man?
MALVOLIO Go off, I discard you. Let me enjoy my
 private. Go off.
MARIA , to Toby Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks
 within him! Did not I tell you? Sir Toby, my lady
100 prays you to have a care of him.
MALVOLIO Aha, does she so?
TOBY , to Fabian and Maria Go to, go to! Peace, peace.
 We must deal gently with him. Let me alone.—How
 do you, Malvolio? How is ’t with you? What, man,
105 defy the devil! Consider, he’s an enemy to mankind.
MALVOLIO Do you know what you say?
MARIA , to Toby La you, an you speak ill of the devil,
 how he takes it at heart! Pray God he be not
FABIAN 110Carry his water to th’ wisewoman.
MARIA Marry, and it shall be done tomorrow morning
 if I live. My lady would not lose him for more than
 I’ll say.
MALVOLIO How now, mistress?
MARIA 115O Lord!
TOBY Prithee, hold thy peace. This is not the way. Do
 you not see you move him? Let me alone with



FABIAN No way but gentleness, gently, gently. The
120 fiend is rough and will not be roughly used.
TOBY , to Malvolio Why, how now, my bawcock? How
 dost thou, chuck?
TOBY Ay, biddy, come with me.—What, man, ’tis not
125 for gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan. Hang
 him, foul collier!
MARIA Get him to say his prayers, good Sir Toby; get
 him to pray.
MALVOLIO My prayers, minx?
MARIA , to Toby 130No, I warrant you, he will not hear of
MALVOLIO Go hang yourselves all! You are idle, shallow
 things. I am not of your element. You shall
 know more hereafter. He exits.
TOBY 135Is ’t possible?
FABIAN If this were played upon a stage now, I could
 condemn it as an improbable fiction.
TOBY His very genius hath taken the infection of the
 device, man.
MARIA 140Nay, pursue him now, lest the device take air
 and taint.
FABIAN Why, we shall make him mad indeed.
MARIA The house will be the quieter.
TOBY Come, we’ll have him in a dark room and
145 bound. My niece is already in the belief that he’s
 mad. We may carry it thus, for our pleasure and his
 penance, till our very pastime, tired out of breath,
 prompt us to have mercy on him, at which time we
 will bring the device to the bar and crown thee for a
150 finder of madmen. But see, but see!

Enter Sir Andrew.

FABIAN More matter for a May morning.
ANDREW , presenting a paper Here’s the challenge.
 Read it. I warrant there’s vinegar and pepper in ’t.



FABIAN Is ’t so saucy?
ANDREW 155Ay, is ’t. I warrant him. Do but read.
TOBY Give me.  He reads. Youth, whatsoever thou art,
 thou art but a scurvy fellow.
FABIAN Good, and valiant.
TOBY  reads Wonder not nor admire not in thy mind
160 why I do call thee so, for I will show thee no reason
 for ’t.

FABIAN A good note, that keeps you from the blow of
 the law.
TOBY  reads Thou com’st to the Lady Olivia, and in my
165 sight she uses thee kindly. But thou liest in thy throat;
 that is not the matter I challenge thee for.

FABIAN Very brief, and to exceeding good sense—less.
TOBY  reads I will waylay thee going home, where if it be
 thy chance to kill me—

FABIAN 170Good.
TOBY  reads Thou kill’st me like a rogue and a villain.
FABIAN Still you keep o’ th’ windy side of the law.
TOBY  reads Fare thee well, and God have mercy upon
175 one of our souls. He may have mercy upon mine, but
 my hope is better, and so look to thyself. Thy friend, as
 thou usest him, and thy sworn enemy,
 Andrew Aguecheek.

 If this letter move him not, his legs cannot. I’ll
180 give ’t him.
MARIA You may have very fit occasion for ’t. He is now
 in some commerce with my lady and will by and
 by depart.
TOBY Go, Sir Andrew. Scout me for him at the corner
185 of the orchard like a bum-baily. So soon as ever
 thou seest him, draw, and as thou draw’st, swear
 horrible, for it comes to pass oft that a terrible oath,
 with a swaggering accent sharply twanged off, gives
 manhood more approbation than ever proof itself
190 would have earned him. Away!



ANDREW Nay, let me alone for swearing. He exits.
TOBY Now will not I deliver his letter, for the behavior
 of the young gentleman gives him out to be of good
 capacity and breeding; his employment between
195 his lord and my niece confirms no less. Therefore,
 this letter, being so excellently ignorant, will breed
 no terror in the youth. He will find it comes from a
 clodpoll. But, sir, I will deliver his challenge by
 word of mouth, set upon Aguecheek a notable
200 report of valor, and drive the gentleman (as I know
 his youth will aptly receive it) into a most hideous
 opinion of his rage, skill, fury, and impetuosity. This
 will so fright them both that they will kill one
 another by the look, like cockatrices.

Enter Olivia and Viola.

FABIAN 205Here he comes with your niece. Give them
 way till he take leave, and presently after him.
TOBY I will meditate the while upon some horrid
 message for a challenge.
Toby, Fabian, and Maria exit.
 I have said too much unto a heart of stone
210 And laid mine honor too unchary on ’t.
 There’s something in me that reproves my fault,
 But such a headstrong potent fault it is
 That it but mocks reproof.
 With the same ’havior that your passion bears
215 Goes on my master’s griefs.
 Here, wear this jewel for me. ’Tis my picture.
 Refuse it not. It hath no tongue to vex you.
 And I beseech you come again tomorrow.
 What shall you ask of me that I’ll deny,
220 That honor, saved, may upon asking give?



 Nothing but this: your true love for my master.
 How with mine honor may I give him that
 Which I have given to you?
VIOLA  I will acquit you.
225 Well, come again tomorrow. Fare thee well.
 A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell.
She exits.

Enter Toby and Fabian.

TOBY Gentleman, God save thee.
VIOLA And you, sir.
TOBY That defense thou hast, betake thee to ’t. Of what
230 nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know
 not, but thy intercepter, full of despite, bloody as
 the hunter, attends thee at the orchard end. Dismount
 thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation, for thy
 assailant is quick, skillful, and deadly.
VIOLA 235You mistake, sir. I am sure no man hath any
 quarrel to me. My remembrance is very free and
 clear from any image of offense done to any man.
TOBY You’ll find it otherwise, I assure you. Therefore,
 if you hold your life at any price, betake you to your
240 guard, for your opposite hath in him what youth,
 strength, skill, and wrath can furnish man withal.
VIOLA I pray you, sir, what is he?
TOBY He is knight dubbed with unhatched rapier and
 on carpet consideration, but he is a devil in private
245 brawl. Souls and bodies hath he divorced three, and
 his incensement at this moment is so implacable
 that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death
 and sepulcher. “Hob, nob” is his word; “give ’t or
 take ’t.”
VIOLA 250I will return again into the house and desire



 some conduct of the lady. I am no fighter. I have
 heard of some kind of men that put quarrels purposely
 on others to taste their valor. Belike this is a
 man of that quirk.
TOBY 255Sir, no. His indignation derives itself out of a very
 competent injury. Therefore get you on and give
 him his desire. Back you shall not to the house,
 unless you undertake that with me which with as
 much safety you might answer him. Therefore on,
260 or strip your sword stark naked, for meddle you
 must, that’s certain, or forswear to wear iron about
VIOLA This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you, do
 me this courteous office, as to know of the knight
265 what my offense to him is. It is something of my
 negligence, nothing of my purpose.
TOBY I will do so.—Signior Fabian, stay you by this
 gentleman till my return. Toby exits.
VIOLA Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter?
FABIAN 270I know the knight is incensed against you even
 to a mortal arbitrament, but nothing of the circumstance
VIOLA I beseech you, what manner of man is he?
FABIAN Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read
275 him by his form, as you are like to find him in the
 proof of his valor. He is indeed, sir, the most skillful,
 bloody, and fatal opposite that you could possibly
 have found in any part of Illyria. Will you walk
 towards him? I will make your peace with him if I
280 can.
VIOLA I shall be much bound to you for ’t. I am one
 that had rather go with Sir Priest than Sir Knight, I
 care not who knows so much of my mettle.
They exit.

Enter Toby and Andrew.



TOBY Why, man, he’s a very devil. I have not seen such
285 a firago. I had a pass with him, rapier, scabbard,
 and all, and he gives me the stuck-in with such
 a mortal motion that it is inevitable; and on the
 answer, he pays you as surely as your feet hits the
 ground they step on. They say he has been fencer
290 to the Sophy.
ANDREW Pox on ’t! I’ll not meddle with him.
TOBY Ay, but he will not now be pacified. Fabian can
 scarce hold him yonder.
ANDREW Plague on ’t! An I thought he had been
295 valiant, and so cunning in fence, I’d have seen him
 damned ere I’d have challenged him. Let him let
 the matter slip, and I’ll give him my horse, gray
TOBY I’ll make the motion. Stand here, make a good
300 show on ’t. This shall end without the perdition of
 souls.  Aside. Marry, I’ll ride your horse as well as I
 ride you.

Enter Fabian and Viola.

Toby crosses to meet them.
  Aside to Fabian. I have his horse to take up the
 quarrel. I have persuaded him the youth’s a devil.
FABIAN , aside to Toby 305He is as horribly conceited of
 him, and pants and looks pale as if a bear were at his
TOBY , to Viola There’s no remedy, sir; he will fight
 with you for ’s oath sake. Marry, he hath better
310 bethought him of his quarrel, and he finds that now
 scarce to be worth talking of. Therefore, draw for
 the supportance of his vow. He protests he will not
 hurt you.
VIOLA Pray God defend me!  Aside. A little thing
315 would make me tell them how much I lack of a



FABIAN Give ground if you see him furious.
Toby crosses to Andrew.
TOBY Come, Sir Andrew, there’s no remedy. The
 gentleman will, for his honor’s sake, have one bout
320 with you. He cannot by the duello avoid it. But he
 has promised me, as he is a gentleman and a soldier,
 he will not hurt you. Come on, to ’t.
ANDREW , drawing his sword Pray God he keep his
VIOLA , drawing her sword 
325 I do assure you ’tis against my will.

Enter Antonio.

ANTONIO , to Andrew 
 Put up your sword. If this young gentleman
 Have done offense, I take the fault on me.
 If you offend him, I for him defy you.
TOBY You, sir? Why, what are you?
ANTONIO , drawing his sword 
330 One, sir, that for his love dares yet do more
 Than you have heard him brag to you he will.
TOBY , drawing his sword 
 Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for you.

Enter Officers.

FABIAN O, good Sir Toby, hold! Here come the officers.
TOBY , to Antonio I’ll be with you anon.
VIOLA , to Andrew 335Pray, sir, put your sword up, if
 you please.
ANDREW Marry, will I, sir. And for that I promised
 you, I’ll be as good as my word. He will bear you
 easily, and reins well.
FIRST OFFICER 340This is the man. Do thy office.
SECOND OFFICER Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit of
 Count Orsino.
ANTONIO You do mistake me, sir.



 No, sir, no jot. I know your favor well,
345 Though now you have no sea-cap on your head.—
 Take him away. He knows I know him well.
 I must obey.  To Viola. This comes with seeking
 But there’s no remedy. I shall answer it.
350 What will you do, now my necessity
 Makes me to ask you for my purse? It grieves me
 Much more for what I cannot do for you
 Than what befalls myself. You stand amazed,
 But be of comfort.
SECOND OFFICER 355 Come, sir, away.
ANTONIO , to Viola 
 I must entreat of you some of that money.
VIOLA What money, sir?
 For the fair kindness you have showed me here,
 And part being prompted by your present trouble,
360 Out of my lean and low ability
 I’ll lend you something. My having is not much.
 I’ll make division of my present with you.
 Hold, there’s half my coffer. Offering him money.
ANTONIO Will you deny me now?
365 Is ’t possible that my deserts to you
 Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery,
 Lest that it make me so unsound a man
 As to upbraid you with those kindnesses
 That I have done for you.
VIOLA 370 I know of none,
 Nor know I you by voice or any feature.
 I hate ingratitude more in a man
 Than lying, vainness, babbling drunkenness,
 Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption
375 Inhabits our frail blood—
ANTONIO  O heavens themselves!



SECOND OFFICER Come, sir, I pray you go.
 Let me speak a little. This youth that you see here
 I snatched one half out of the jaws of death,
380 Relieved him with such sanctity of love,
 And to his image, which methought did promise
 Most venerable worth, did I devotion.
 What’s that to us? The time goes by. Away!
 But O, how vile an idol proves this god!
385 Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame.
 In nature there’s no blemish but the mind;
 None can be called deformed but the unkind.
 Virtue is beauty, but the beauteous evil
 Are empty trunks o’erflourished by the devil.
390 The man grows mad. Away with him.—Come,
 come, sir.
ANTONIO Lead me on.
Antonio and Officers exit.
VIOLA , aside 
 Methinks his words do from such passion fly
 That he believes himself; so do not I.
395 Prove true, imagination, O, prove true,
 That I, dear brother, be now ta’en for you!
TOBY Come hither, knight; come hither, Fabian. We’ll
 whisper o’er a couplet or two of most sage saws.
Toby, Fabian, and Andrew move aside.
VIOLA , aside 
 He named Sebastian. I my brother know
400 Yet living in my glass. Even such and so
 In favor was my brother, and he went
 Still in this fashion, color, ornament,
 For him I imitate. O, if it prove,
 Tempests are kind, and salt waves fresh in love!
She exits.



TOBY 405A very dishonest, paltry boy, and more a coward
 than a hare. His dishonesty appears in leaving his
 friend here in necessity and denying him; and for
 his cowardship, ask Fabian.
FABIAN A coward, a most devout coward, religious
410 in it.
ANDREW ’Slid, I’ll after him again and beat him.
TOBY Do, cuff him soundly, but never draw thy
ANDREW An I do not—
FABIAN 415Come, let’s see the event.
TOBY I dare lay any money ’twill be nothing yet.
They exit.




Scene 1

Enter Sebastian and Feste, the Fool.

FOOL Will you make me believe that I am not sent for
SEBASTIAN Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow. Let
 me be clear of thee.
FOOL 5Well 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 10I prithee, vent thy folly somewhere else.
 Thou know’st not me.
FOOL 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
15 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.  Giving money. If you
20 tarry longer, I shall give worse payment.
FOOL 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 Andrew, Toby, and Fabian.

ANDREW , to Sebastian Now, sir, have I met you again?
25 There’s for you. He strikes Sebastian.
SEBASTIAN , returning the blow Why, there’s for thee,
 and there, and there.—Are all the people mad?
TOBY Hold, sir, or I’ll throw your dagger o’er the
FOOL , aside 30This will I tell my lady straight. I would
 not be in some of your coats for twopence.
He exits.
TOBY , seizing Sebastian Come on, sir, hold!
ANDREW Nay, let him alone. I’ll go another way to
 work with him. I’ll have an action of battery against
35 him, if there be any law in Illyria. Though I struck
 him first, yet it’s no matter for that.
SEBASTIAN , to Toby Let go thy hand!
TOBY Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young
 soldier, put up your iron. You are well fleshed.
40 Come on.
 I will be free from thee.
He pulls free and draws his sword.
 What wouldst thou now?
 If thou dar’st tempt me further, draw thy sword.
TOBY What, what? Nay, then, I must have an ounce or
45 two of this malapert blood from you.
He draws his sword.

Enter Olivia.

 Hold, Toby! On thy life I charge thee, hold!
TOBY Madam.
 Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch,
 Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves,



50 Where manners ne’er were preached! Out of my
 Be not offended, dear Cesario.—
 Rudesby, begone! Toby, Andrew, and Fabian exit.
 I prithee, gentle friend,
55 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
60 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.
65 Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;
 If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!
 Nay, come, I prithee. Would thou ’dst be ruled by
 Madam, I will.
OLIVIA 70 O, say so, and so be!
They exit.


Scene 2

Enter Maria and Feste, the Fool.

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. She exits.
FOOL Well, I’ll put it on and I will dissemble myself in
5 ’t, and I would I were the first that ever dissembled
 in such a gown.  He puts on gown and beard. 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
10 fairly as to say a careful man and a great scholar.
 The competitors enter.

Enter Toby and Maria.

TOBY Jove bless thee, Master Parson.
FOOL Bonos dies, Sir Toby; for, as the old hermit of
 Prague, that never saw pen and ink, very wittily said
15 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”?
TOBY To him, Sir Topas.
FOOL , disguising his voice What ho, I say! Peace in this
20 prison!
TOBY The knave counterfeits well. A good knave.

Malvolio within.

MALVOLIO Who calls there?
FOOL Sir Topas the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio
 the lunatic.
MALVOLIO 25Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to
 my lady—
FOOL Out, hyperbolical fiend! How vexest thou this
 man! Talkest thou nothing but of ladies?
TOBY , aside Well said, Master Parson.
MALVOLIO 30Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged.
 Good Sir Topas, do not think I am mad. They have
 laid me here in hideous darkness—
FOOL Fie, thou dishonest Satan! I call thee by the most
 modest terms, for I am one of those gentle ones
35 that will use the devil himself with courtesy. Sayst
 thou that house is dark?
MALVOLIO As hell, Sir Topas.



FOOL Why, it hath bay windows transparent as barricadoes,
 and the clerestories toward the south-north
40 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.
FOOL Madman, thou errest. I say there is no darkness
45 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
50 mad than you are. Make the trial of it in any
 constant question.
FOOL What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning
MALVOLIO That the soul of our grandam might haply
55 inhabit a bird.
FOOL What thinkst thou of his opinion?
MALVOLIO I think nobly of the soul, and no way
 approve his opinion.
FOOL Fare thee well. Remain thou still in darkness.
60 Thou shalt hold th’ 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
MALVOLIO Sir Topas, Sir Topas!
TOBY 65My most exquisite Sir Topas!
FOOL Nay, I am for all waters.
MARIA Thou mightst have done this without thy beard
 and gown. He sees thee not.
TOBY To him in thine own voice, and bring me word
70 how thou find’st 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
 offense with my niece that I cannot pursue with



 any safety this sport the upshot. Come by and by
75 to my chamber.
Toby and Maria exit.
FOOL  sings, in his own voice 
  Hey, Robin, jolly Robin,
  Tell me how thy lady does.

FOOL  sings 
  My lady is unkind, perdy.
FOOL  sings 
  Alas, why is she so?
MALVOLIO Fool, I say!
FOOL  sings 
  She loves another—
 Who calls, ha?
MALVOLIO 85Good 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.
FOOL Master Malvolio?
MALVOLIO 90Ay, good Fool.
FOOL 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.
FOOL But as well? Then you are mad indeed, if you be
95 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.
FOOL Advise you what you say. The minister is here.
100  In the voice of Sir Topas. Malvolio, Malvolio, thy
 wits the heavens restore. Endeavor thyself to sleep
 and leave thy vain bibble-babble.



FOOL , as Sir Topas Maintain no words with him, good
105 fellow.  As Fool. Who, I, sir? Not I, sir! God buy
 you, good Sir Topas.  As Sir Topas. Marry, amen.
  As Fool. I will, sir, I will.
MALVOLIO Fool! Fool! Fool, I say!
FOOL Alas, sir, be patient. What say you, sir? I am
110 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.
FOOL Welladay that you were, sir!
MALVOLIO 115By 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.
FOOL I will help you to ’t. But tell me true, are you not
120 mad indeed, or do you but counterfeit?
MALVOLIO Believe me, I am not. I tell thee true.
FOOL 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
125 prithee, begone.
FOOL  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.
130 Who with dagger of lath, in his rage and his wrath,
  Cries “aha!” to the devil;
 Like a mad lad, “Pare thy nails, dad!
  Adieu, goodman devil.”

He exits.




Scene 3

Enter 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?
5 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
10 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
15 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
 Take and give back affairs and their dispatch
20 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 , to Sebastian 
 Blame not this haste of mine. If you mean well,
 Now go with me and with this holy man
25 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



30 Whiles you are willing it shall come to note,
 What time we will our celebration keep
 According to my birth. What do you say?
 I’ll follow this good man and go with you,
 And, having sworn truth, ever will be true.
35 Then lead the way, good father, and heavens so
 That they may fairly note this act of mine.
They exit.




Scene 1

Enter Feste, the Fool and Fabian.

FABIAN Now, as thou lov’st me, let me see his letter.
FOOL Good Master Fabian, grant me another request.
FABIAN Anything.
FOOL Do not desire to see this letter.
FABIAN 5This is to give a dog and in recompense desire
 my dog again.

Enter Orsino, Viola, Curio, and Lords.

 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.

Enter Antonio and Officers.

 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.

Enter Olivia and Attendants.

 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.
VIOLA 105Madam?
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.

Enter Priest.

 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.

Enter Sir Andrew.

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.

Enter Toby and Feste, the Fool.

 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
 with them?
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.

Enter Sebastian.

 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.

Enter Feste, the Fool with a letter, and Fabian.

 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
 give ear.
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.
Fabian exits.
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.

Enter Malvolio and Fabian.

345 Is this the madman?
OLIVIA  Ay, my lord, this same.—
 How now, Malvolio?
MALVOLIO  Madam, you have done me
350 Notorious wrong.



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.
FOOL  sings 
 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.

 A great while ago the world begun,
  With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
430 But that’s all one, our play is done,
  And we’ll strive to please you every day.
He exits.