Twelfth Night (8 page)
Authors: William Shakespeare
Catch sung
SIR ANDREW
Good, i’faith. Come, begin.
Enter Maria
MARIA
What a caterwauling do you
keep
67
here? If my lady
have not called up her
steward
68
Malvolio and bid him turn
you out of doors, never trust me.
SIR TOBY
My lady’s a
Catayan
, we are
politicians
70
, Malvolio’s a
Peg-a-Ramsey
, and
‘Three merry men be we’.
71
Am not I
consanguineous?
Am I not of her blood?
Tillyvally.
72
Lady!
Sings
‘There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady, lady!’
73
FESTE
Beshrew
74
me, the knight’s in admirable fooling.
SIR 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.
76
Sings
SIR TOBY
‘O, the twelfth day of December’
77
—
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
80
at this time of night? Do ye make an alehouse of my lady’s
house, that ye
squeak out
your
coziers’
82
catches without any
mitigation or remorse
83
of voice? Is there no respect of place,
persons, nor time in you?
SIR TOBY
We did keep time, sir, in our catches.
Sneck up!
85
MALVOLIO
Sir Toby, I must be
round
86
with you. My lady bade me
tell you that though she
harbours
87
you as her kinsman, she’s
nothing allied
88
to your disorders. If you can separate yourself
and your misdemeanours, you are welcome to the house. If
not, an it would please you to take leave of her, she is very
willing to bid you farewell.
Sings
SIR TOBY
‘Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be gone.’
92
MARIA
Nay, good Sir Toby.
Sings
FESTE
‘His eyes do show his days are almost done.’
MALVOLIO
Is’t even so?
95
Sings
SIR TOBY
‘But I will never die.’
FESTE
Sir Toby, there you lie.
MALVOLIO
This is much credit to you.
Sings
SIR TOBY
‘Shall I bid him go?’
Sings
FESTE
‘What
an if
100
you do?’
Sings
SIR TOBY
‘Shall I bid him go, and
spare not?
101
’
Sings
FESTE
‘O no, no, no, no, you dare not.’
SIR TOBY
Out o’tune
, sir, ye lie.
Art
103
any more than a steward?
Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no
FESTE
Yes, by
Saint Anne
, and
ginger
106
shall be hot
i’th’mouth too.
SIR TOBY
Thou’rt i’th’right. Go, sir,
rub your chain with
108
crumbs. A stoup of wine, Maria!
MALVOLIO
Mistress Mary, if you
prized
110
my lady’s favour at
anything more than
contempt
, you would not
give means
111
for
this uncivil
rule
112
; she shall know of it, by this hand.
Exit
MARIA
Go shake your ears.
113
SIR ANDREW
’Twere as good a deed as to drink when a man’s
a-hungry
, to challenge him
the field
115
, and then to break
promise with him and make a fool of him.
SIR TOBY
Do’t, knight. I’ll write thee a challenge, or I’ll 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
120
of quiet.
For
Monsieur Malvolio,
let me alone with him
121
: if I
do not
gull
him into a
nayword
122
and make him a common
recreation
123
, do not think I have wit enough to lie straight in
my bed. I know I can do it.
SIR TOBY
Possess
125
us, possess us, tell us something of him.
MARIA
Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of
puritan.
126
SIR ANDREW
O, if I thought that, I’d beat him like a dog!
SIR TOBY
What, for being a puritan? Thy
exquisite
128
reason,
dear knight?
SIR ANDREW
I have no exquisite reason for’t, but I have reason
good enough.
MARIA
The devil a puritan that he is, or anything
constantly
, but a
time-pleaser
, an
affectioned
ass, that
cons
133
state without book and utters it
by great swarths.
The best
134
persuaded of himself, so crammed, as he thinks, with
excellencies
, that it is his
grounds of faith
136
that all that look
on him love him. And on that vice in him will my revenge
find notable cause to work.
SIR TOBY
What wilt thou do?
MARIA
I will drop in his way some
obscure epistles
140
of love,
wherein, by the colour of his beard, the shape of his leg, the
manner of his gait, the
expressure
142
of his eye, forehead, and
complexion
, he shall find himself most
feelingly personated.
143
I can write very like my lady your niece:
on a forgotten
144
matter we can hardly
make distinction of
our
hands.
145
SIR TOBY
Excellent! I smell a
device.
146
SIR ANDREW
I have’t in my nose too.
SIR TOBY
He shall think, by the letters that thou wilt drop,
that they come from my niece and that she’s in love with
him.
MARIA
My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour.
SIR ANDREW
And your horse now would make him an ass.
MARIA
Ass
153
, I doubt not.
SIR ANDREW
O, ’twill be admirable!
MARIA
Sport royal, I warrant you. I know my
physic
155
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
157
of it. For this night, to bed, and dream on the
event.
158
Farewell.
Exit
SIR TOBY
Good night,
Penthesilea.
159
SIR ANDREW
Before me
160
, she’s a good wench.
SIR TOBY
She’s a
beagle
161
, true-bred, and one that adores me.
What o’that?
SIR ANDREW
I was adored once too.
SIR TOBY
Let’s to bed, knight. Thou hadst need send for more
money.
SIR ANDREW
If I cannot
recover
your niece, I am a
foul way out.
166
SIR TOBY
Send for money, knight. If thou hast her not
i’th’end, call me
cut.
168
SIR ANDREW
If I do not, never trust me, take it how you will.
SIR TOBY
Come, come, I’ll go
burn
some
sack.
170
’Tis too late to
go to bed now. Come, knight, come, knight.
Exeunt
running scene 9
Enter Duke
[
Orsino
]
, Viola, Curio and others
ORSINO
Give me some music.— Now, good morrow, friends.
Now, good Cesario,
but
2
that piece of song,
That old and
antique
3
song we heard last night;
Methought it did relieve my
passion
4
much,
More than light
airs
and
recollected terms
5
Of these most brisk and giddy-pacèd times.
Come, but one verse.
CURIO
He is not here, so please your lordship, that 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.
ORSINO
Seek him out, and play the tune
the while.
13
[
Exit Curio
]
Music plays
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:
Unstaid and skittish
in all
motions else
17
,
Save in the
constant
18
image of the creature
That is beloved. How dost thou like this tune?
VIOLA
It
gives a very echo to the seat
20
Where love is throned.
ORSINO
Thou dost speak
masterly.
22
My life upon’t, young though thou art, thine eye
Hath
stayed
upon some
favour
24
that it loves:
Hath it not, boy?
VIOLA
A little,
by your favour.
26
ORSINO
What kind of woman is’t?
VIOLA
Of your complexion.
ORSINO
She is not worth thee, then. What years, i’faith?
VIOLA
About your years, my lord.
ORSINO
Too old by heaven. Let
still
31
the woman take
An elder than herself, so
wears she
32
to him,
So
sways she level
33
in her husband’s heart.
For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,
Our
fancies
35
are more giddy and unfirm,
More longing, wavering, sooner lost and
worn
36
,
Than women’s are.
VIOLA
I think it well
38
, my lord.
ORSINO
Then let thy love be younger than thyself,
Or thy affection cannot
hold the bent
40
,
For women are as roses, whose fair flower
Being once
displayed
42
, doth fall that very hour.
VIOLA
And so they are. Alas, that they are so.
To die, even when they to perfection grow!
Enter Curio and Clown
[
Feste
]
To Feste
ORSINO
O, fellow, come, the song we had last night.—
Mark it
47
, Cesario, it is old and plain;
The
spinsters
48
and the knitters in the sun
And the
free
maids that
weave their thread with bones
49
Do use
to chant it. It is
silly sooth
49
,
And
dallies
50
with the innocence of love,
Like the
old age.
51
FESTE
Are you ready, sir?
