Twelfth Night (1980) - full transcript

[upbeat music]

[soft music]

If music be the food of love, play on,

give me excess of it that surfeiting,

the appetite may sicken, and so die.

[soft music ]

That strain again, it had a dying fall.

O, it came o'er my ear
like the sweet sound

that breathes upon a bank of violets,

stealing and giving odour.

Enough, no more.



It is not so sweet now as it was before.

O spirit of love how
quick and fresh art thou,

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

that it alone is high fantastical.

Will you go hunt, my lord?

What, Curio?

The hart.

Why, so I do, the noblest that I have.

O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first,

me thought she purged
the air of pestilence.



That instant was I turned into a hart

and my desires, like fell
and cruel hounds, pursue me.

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,

but like a cloistress
she will veiled 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.

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,

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.

[gust winds]

What country, friends, is this?

This is Illyria your lady.

And what should I do in Illyria?

My brother, he is in Elysium.

Perchance he is not drowned.

What think you, sailors?

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,

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.

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.

O, for saying so, there's gold.

Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,

whereto thy speech serves for authority,

the like of him knowest thou this country?

Aye, madam, well, for I was bred and born

not three hours travel
from this very place.

Who governs here?

A noble Duke in nature as in name.

What is his name?

Orsino.

Orsino.

I have heard my father name him.

He was a bachelor then.

And so is now, or was so, very late

for but a month ago I went from hence,

then 'twas fresh in murmur as you know,

what great ones do, the
less will prattle of

that he did seek the love of fair Olivia.

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,

who shortly also died for whose dear love,

they say she hath abjured
the company and sight of men.

O, that I served that lady,

And might not be delivered to the world

till I had made mine own occasion
mellow what my estate is.

That were hard to compass,

because she will admit no kind
of suit, no, not the Duke's.

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.

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 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.

Be you his eunuch and your mute I'll be.

When my tongue blabs, then
let mine eyes not see.

I thank thee, lead me on.

[door knock]

What a plague means my
niece to take the death

of her brother thus I am
sure care's an enemy to life.

[sigh]

By my troth, Sir Toby,
you must come in earlier

Your cousin, my lady,

takes great exceptions to your ill hours.

Why, let her except before excepted.

Aye, but you must confine yourself

within the modest limits of order.

Confine 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.

That quaffing and drinking will undo you

I heard my lady talk of it yesterday,

and of a foolish knight that you brought

in one night here to be her wooer.

Who Sir Andrew Aguecheek?

Aye, he.

He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria.

What's that to the purpose?

He has three thousand ducats a year.

Aye, but he'll have but a
year in all these ducats.

He's a very fool and a prodigal.

Fie, that you'll say so he
plays o'the viol-de-gamboys,

speaks three or four languages
word for word without book,

and hath all the good gifts of nature.

He hath indeed all,
most natural for besides

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, it is thought

among the prudent he would
quickly have the gift of a grave.

By this hand they are
scoundrels and substractors

that say so of him who are they?

They that add moreover he's
drunk nightly in your company.

With drinking healths
to my niece I'll drink

to her as long as there
is a passage in my throat

and drink in Illyria, he's
a coward and a coistrel

will not drink to my niece
till his brains turn to the toe

like a parish top, what
wench Castiliano vulgo

for here comes Sir Andrew Agueface.

Sir Toby Belch?

[cheers]

How now, Sir Toby Belch?

Not sweet Sir Andrew.

Bless you, fair shrew.

And you too, sir.

Accost, Sir Andrew, accost.

What's that?

My niece's chambermaid.

Good Mistress accost, I
desire better acquaintance.

My name is Mary, sir.

Good Mistress Mary Accost

You mistake knight,

accost is front her board
her woo her assail her.

I my tell, I would not
undertake her in this company

he said the meaning of for cost?

Fare you well, gentlemen.

An thou let part so Sir Andrew would

thou mightst never draw sword again.

Are you part so mistress

I would I might never draw sword again

fair lady do you think
you have fools in hand?

Sir, I have not you by the hand.

Marry, but you shall
have, and here's my hand.

Though a thought is free I pray you

bring your hand to the
buttery bar and let it drink.

Wherefore, sweetheart
what's your metaphor?

It's dry, sir.

Why, I think so I am not such an ass

but I can keep my hand
dry but what's your jest?

A dry jest, sir.

Are you full of them?

Aye, sir. I have them at
my fingers ends marry,

now I let go your hand, I am barren.

O knight, thou lacks a cup of canary

when did I see thee so put down?

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 has

but I am a great eater of beef

and I believe that does harm to my wit.

No question.

I thought that, I'd forswear it

I'll ride home tomorrow, Sir Toby.

Pourquoi, my dear knight?

What is pourquoi do or not do?

I would I had bestowed
that time in the tongues

that I have in fencing,
dancing and bear-baiting O,

had I but followed the arts.

Then hadst thou had an
excellent head of hair.

Why, would that have mended my hair?

Past question, for thou seest
it will not curl by nature.

But it becomes me well enough, does't not?

Excellent, it hangs like flax
on a distaff I hope to see

a huswife take thee between
her legs and spin it off.

[laughs loudly]

Faith, I'll home tomorrow, Sir Toby,

your niece will not be seen,

or if she be it's four
to one she'll none of me

the Count himself here hard by woos her.

She'll none to the count she'll not match

above her degree neither
in estate years nor wit.

I have heard her swear it
tut, there's life into man.

[giggle]

I'll stay a month longer.

I am a fellow to the
strangest mind in the world

I delight in masques and
revels sometimes altogether.

Art thou good at these
kickshawses, knight?

As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be,

under the degree of my betters

I will not compare with an old man.

What is thy excellence
in a galliard, knight?

Faith, I can cut a caper

and I can cut the mutton to it.

And I think I have the back-trick simply

as strong as any man in Illyria.

Wherefore are these things hid

wherefore have these gifts a
curtain before them are they

like to take dust like
Mistress Mall's picture

why dost 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 that apace

[laughs loudly]

what dost thou mean is it
a world to hide virtues

I did think by the excellent
constitution of thy leg

it was formed under
the star of a galliard.

Aye, it is strong and it
does indifferent well in

a flame colored stock shall
we set about some revels?

What shall we do else, were
we not born under Taurus?

Taurus that's sides and heart.

No, sides it is legs and
thighs let me see thee caper.

Ha, ha, ha.

Higher

[murmurs]

[soft music]

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.

You either fear his
humor or my negligence,

that you call in question
the continuance of his love.

Is he inconstant, sir, in his favors?

No, believe me.

I thank you, here comes the Count.

Who saw Cesario?

On your attendance, my lord, here.

Stand you awhile aloof.

Cesario, thou knowest no less but all

I have unclasped 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
fixed foot shall grow

till thou have audience.

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.

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

than in a nuncio's of more grave aspect.

I think not so my lord.

Dear lad, believe it.

For they shall yet belie thy happy years

that say thou art a man.

Diana's lip is not more
smooth and rubious.

Thy small pipe is as the
maiden's organ, shrill and sound,

and all is semblative a woman's part.

I know thy constellation is
right out for this affair.

Some four or five attend
him 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.

I'll do my best to woo your lady.

Yet, a barful strife.

Who were I woo, myself would be his wife.

[soft music]

Nay, either tell me where thou hast been,

I will open my lips so wide
as a bristle may enter,

in way of thy excuse.

My lady will hang thee for thy absence.

Let her hang me, he that
is well hanged in this

world needs to fear no colors.

Make that good.

He shall see none to fear.

A good lenten answerI can tell thee

where that saying was
born of I fear no colors.

Where, good Mistress Mary?

In the wars

and that may you be bold
to say in your foolery.

Well God give them wisdom that have it

and those that are fools,
let them use their talents.

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?

No many a good hanging
prevents a bad marriage

and for turning away,
let summer bear it out.

You are resolute, then?

Not so neither, but I am
resolved on two points.

That if one break, the
other will hold or if both

break, your gaskins fall.

[laughs loudly]

Out in good faith very
out well go thy way,

if Sir Toby would leave drinking,

thou wert as witty a piece of
Eve's flesh as any in Illyria.

Peace you rogue, no more
of that here comes my lady.

Make your excuse wisely, you were best.

Wit, an't be thy will,
put me into good fooling.

Those wits that think they have
thee do very out 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 thee, lady.

Take the fool away.

Do you not hear, fellows
take away the lady.

Go to you are a dry fool
I'll no more of you.

Besides, you grow dishonest.

Two 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 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 the
lady bade take away the fool,

therefore I say again take her away.

Sir, I bade them take away you.

Misprision in the highest
degree good Madonna,

give me leave to prove you a fool.

Can you do it?

O, dexteriously, good Madonna.

Make your proof.

I must catechize you for it,

good my mouse of virtue, answer me.

Well, sir for want of other
idleness I'll bide your proof.

Good Madonna, why mournest thou?

Good fool, for my brother's death.

I think his soul is in hell, Madonna.

I know his soul is in heaven, fool.

The more fool, Madonna, to
mourn for your brother's soul,

being in heaven take
away the fool, gentlemen.

What think you of this fool,
Malvolio doth he not mend?

Yes, and shall do, till the
pangs of death shake him.

Infirmity, that decays the wise,

doth ever make the better fool.

God send you, sir, a speedy
infirmity for the better

increasing your folly Sir Toby
will be sworn I am no fox,

but he will not pass
his word for two pence

that you are no fool.

How say you to that, 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 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.

O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio,

and taste 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 man,

though he do nothing but reprove.

Now Mercury endue thee with leasing,

for thou speak's well of fools.

[laughs loudly]

Madam, there is at the
gate a young gentleman

much desires to speak with you.

From the Count Orsino, is it?

I know not madam it is a fair
young man and well attended.

Who of my people hold him in delay?

Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman.

O, fetch him off, I pray
you, he speaks nothing

but madman fie on him o you, Malvolio.

If it be a suit from the Count, I am sick

or not at home what you
will, to dismiss it.

Now you see, sir,

how your fooling grows
old and people dislike it?

Thou hast spoke for this,
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.

By mine honour, half drunk.

What is he at the gate cousin?

A gentleman.

A gentleman, what gentleman?

It is a gentleman here,

plague these pickle-herring.

How now, sot [laughs].

Good Sir Toby.

Cousin, how have you come
so early by this lethargy?

Lechery I defy lechery
there's one at the gate.

Aye, marry, what is he?

Let him be the devil an he will,

I care not give me faith, say I.

What's a drunken man like, fool?

Like a drowned man a fool and a madman.

One draught above heat makes him a fool,

the second mads him
and a third drowns him.

Go thou and seek the crowner

and let him sit on my cuz,

for he's in the third degree
of drink he's drowned.

Go, look after him.

He is but mad yet Madonna

and the fool shall look to the madman.

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 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 denial.

Tell him, he shall not speak with me.

He's 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.

What kind oF man is he?

Why, of mankind.

What manner of man?

Of very ill manner he'll speak
with you, will you or no.

Of what personage and years is he?

Not yet old enough for a man,

nor yet young enough for a boy,

as a squash is before it is a peascod,

or a codling when it is
almost an apple it is with him

in standing water between boy and man.

He is very well-favored,

and he speaks very shrewishly.

One would think his mother's
milk were scarce out of him.

Let him approach call in my gentlewoman.

Gentlewoman, my lady calls.

Give me my veil come,
throw it over my face.

We'll once more hear Orsino's embassy.

The honorable lady of
the house, which is she?

Speak to me, I shall
answer for her, your will?

Most radiant, exquisite,
and unmatchable beauty

I pray you tell me if this
be the lady of the house,

for I never saw her.

I should 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.

Which came you, sir?

I can say little more than I have studied

and that question's out of my part.

Good gentle one and
give me modest assurance

if you be the lady of the house,

that I may proceed in my speech.

Are you a comedian?

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?

If I do not usurp myself, I am.

Most 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.

Come to what is important in it

and I forgive you the praise.

And as I took great pains to
study it and it is poetical.

It is the more like to be
feigned I pray you 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 be gone if
you have reason, be brief.

It is not that time of moon with me,

to make one in so skipping a dialogue.

Will you hoist sail, sir?

Here lies your way.

No, good swabber, I am to
hull here a little longer.

Some mollification for
your giant, sweet lady.

Tell me your mind I am a messenger.

Sure, you have some
hideous matter to deliver,

when the courtesy of it is
so fearful speak your office.

It alone concerns your ear.

I bring no overture of
war, no taxation of homage.

I hold the olive in my hand,

my words are as full of peace as matter.

Yet you began rudely what
are you what would you?

The rudeness that hath appeared in me

have I learned from my entertainment.

What I am and what I would
are as secret as maidenhead,

to your ears divinity to
any others profanation.

Give us the place alone.

We will hear this divinity.

Now, sir, what is your text?

Most sweet lady

A comfortable doctrine,

and much may be said of
it where lies your text?

In Orsino's bosom.

In his bosom, In what
chapter of his bosom?

To answer by the method,
in the first of his heart.

O, I have read it is heresy
have you no more to say?

Good madam, let me see your face.

Have 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.

Look you, sir, such a
one I was this present.

Is it not well done?

Excellently done

if God did all.

'Tis in grain sir, 'twill
endure wind and weather.

'Tis beauty truly blent,
whose red and white

nature's own sweet and
cunning hand laid on.

Lady, you are the cruellest she alive,

if you will lead these
graces to the grave,

and leave the world no copy.

O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted.

I will give out divers
schedules of my beauty.

It shall be inventoried and every particle

and utensil labeled to my will.

As item two lips indifferent red,

item two grey eyes, with lids to them

item one neck one chin and so forth.

Were you sent hither to praise me?

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 crowned
the nonpareil of beauty.

How does he love me?

With adorations, fertile
tears, with groans

that thunder love, with sighs of fire.

Your lord does know my
mind I cannot love him,

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.

He might have took his answer long ago.

If I did love you in my master's flame,

with such a suffering, such a deadly life,

in your denial I would find no sense,

I would not understand it.

Why, what would you?

Make me a willow cabin at your gate,

and call upon my soul within the house,

write loyal cantons of contemned love

and sing them loud even
in the dead of night.

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.

You might do much.

What is your parentage?

Above my fortunes, yet my state is well.

I am a gentleman.

Get you to your lord.

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.

I am no feed post, lady keep your purse.

My master not myself, lacks recompense.

Love make his heart of
flint, that you shall love,

and let your fervour like my master's

be placed in contempt
farewell, fair cruelty.

What is your parentage?

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,

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!

What ho, 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,

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!

Madam, I will.

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.

Were you even thou the compass Oliver?

Even now, sir on a moderate pace

I have since arrived but hither.

She 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 hardy

to come again in his affairs
unless it be to report

your lord's taking of this receive it so.

She took the ring of me, I'll none of it.

Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her

and her will is it should be so returned.

If it be worth stooping for
there it lies in your eye,

if not, be it his that finds it.

I left no ring with her
what means this lady?

Fortune forbid my outside
have not charmed her

she made good view of me, indeed so much

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.

I am the man.

If it be so as it is 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

in women's waxen hearts
to set their forms.

Alas, our frailty is the cause not we,

for such as we are made for if such we be.

How will this fadge my
master loves her dearly.

and I, poor monster, fond as much on him

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

O time, thou must untangle this, not I

It is too hard a knot for me to untie.

Will you stay no longer?

Nor will you not that I go with you?

By your patience, no my
stars shine darkly over me

the malignancy of my fate
might perhaps 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.

Let me yet know of you
whither you are bound.

No 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.

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
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.

Alas the day!

A lady, sir, though it was
said she much resembled me,

was yet of many accounted beautiful.

But though I could not with
such estimable wonder over far

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,

though I seem to drown her
remembrance again with more.

Pardon me, sir, your bad entertainment.

O my good Antonio,
forgive me your trouble.

If you will not murder me for my love,

let me be your servant.

If you will not undo what you have done

that is, kill him whom you
have recovered desire it not.

Fare ye well at once

my bosom is full of kindness

and I am yet so near
the manners of my mother

that, upon the least occasion more,

mine eyes will tell tales of me.

I am bound to the Count
Orsino's court farewell.

The gentleness of all
the gods go with thee

I have many enemies in Orsino's court,

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.

Approach, Sir Andrew.

Not to be abed after
midnight, is to be up betimes,

and diluculo surgere, thou knowest

Nay, by my troth, I know not,

but I know to be up late is to be up late.

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 elements?

Faith, so they say but I think

it rather consists of eating and drinking.

Thou at a scholar let us
therefore eat and drink.

Marian, I say a stoup of wine

O, here comes the fool in faith.

Ah, how now, my hearts

Did you never see the picture of we three?

[laughs loudly]

Welcome, ass now let's have a catch.

O, by my troth the fool
has an excellent breast.

I had rather than forty
shillings I had such a leg,

and so sweet a breath
to sing as the fool has.

Come on, there is sixpence
for you let's have a song.

There's a testril of me, too
if one knight give a [murmur]

would you have a love song,
or a song of good life?

O, a love song, a love song.

I care not for good life.

♪O mistress mine ♪

♪Where are you roaming ♪

♪O, stay and hear your
true love's coming ♪

♪That can sing both high and low ♪

♪Trip no further, pretty sweeting ♪

♪Journeys end in lovers meeting ♪

♪Every wise man's son doth know ♪

O, Excellent good, in faith

Good, good

♪What is love ♪

♪It is not hereafter ♪

♪Present mirth hath present laughter ♪

♪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 ♪

A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight

A contagious breath.

Very sweet and contagious, in faith.

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 three
souls out of one weaver?

Shall we do that?

An you love me, let's do
it I am dog at a catch.

Thy lady, some dogs will catch well.

[laughs]

Most certain. Let our catch be thou knave.

Hold thy peace, thou knave knight?

I shall be constrained into
call thee knave, knight.

It is not the first
time I have constrained

one to call me knave begin fool it begins

♪Hold thy peace ♪

I shall never begin if I hold my peace.

[laughs loudly]

Good, in faith

O, come, begin.

♪Hold thy peace ♪

♪Thy knave hold thy peace ♪

♪Hold thy peace ♪

♪Thy knave hold thy peace ♪

♪Thy knave hold thy peace ♪

♪Thy knave hold thy peace ♪

♪Hold thy peace ♪

♪Hold thy peace ♪

If my lady have not called
up her steward Malvolio

and bid him turn you out
of doors never trust me.

My lady's a cataian we are politicians

and Malvolio's a pegaramsey

♪Three merry men be we ♪

Am not I consanguineous,

am I not of her blood tilly-vally lady

♪There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady ♪

♪Lady ♪

Be the knight's in admirable fooling.

Aye, he does well enough
if he be disposed,

and so do I too he does
it with a better grace,

I do it more natural.

♪On the twelfth day of December ♪

♪On the twelfth day of December ♪

♪On the twelfth day of December ♪

♪On the twelfth day of December ♪

♪On the twelfth day of December ♪

O, for the love of God, peace.

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 ye make an alehouse of my lady's house,

that ye squeak out your coziers' catches

without any mitigation
or remorse of voice?

Is there no respect of place,
persons, nor time in you?

We did keep time, sir,
in our catches sneck up.

Sir Toby, I must be round with you.

My lady bade me tell you,

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, it would please
you to take leave of her,

though she is very willing
to bid you farewell.

♪Farewell, dear heart for I must live ♪

Nay, good Sir Toby.

♪His eyes do show his
days are almost done ♪

Is it even so.

♪But I shall never die ♪

♪Sir Toby, there you lie ♪

This is much credit to you

Shall I bid him go?

What an if you do?

Shall I bid him go and spare not?

O no, no, no, no, you dare not.

[laughing loudly]

Out of tune, sir, ye lie.

Art any more than a steward?

Dost thou think, because
thou art virtuous,

there shall be no more cakes and ale?

Yes by Saint Anne

and ginger shall be hot in the mouth too.

The art in the right.

Go, sir,

rub your chain with crumbs.

A stoup of wine, Maria.

Mistress 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.

Go, shake your ears.

For it were 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 him.

Do it, knight, I'll write thee a challenge

or I'll deliver thy indignation
to him by word of mouth.

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 nay-word

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.

Possess us, possess us,
tell us something of him.

Marry, sir, sometimes
he is a kind of puritan

O, if I thought that,
I'd beat him like a dog.

What, for being a puritan

thy exquisite reason, dear knight?

Well I have no exquisite reason for it,

but I have reason good enough.

O, the 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 swathes

the best persuaded of himself,
so crammed, as he thinks,

with excellencies, that it is
his grounds of faith that all

that look on him love him

and on that vice in him will

my revenge find notable cause to work.

What wilt thou do?

I should drop in his way some
obscure epistles of love,

wherein, by the colour 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 hardly

make distinction of our hands.

Excellent I smell a device.

I have to in my nose too.

I be so think by the
letters that thou will

drop that they come from my niece

and that she's in love with him.

My purpose is indeed
a horse of that color.

Your horse now would make him an ass.

Ass, I doubt not.

[laughs loudly]

O, it will be admirable.

Sport 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.

Good night, Penthesilea.

O, before me, she's a good wench.

She's a beagle true bred,
and one that adores me

what if does in?

I was adored once, too.

Let's to bed, knight.

Thou hadst need send for more money.

If I cannot recover your
niece, I am a foul way out.

Send for money, knight.

If thou hast her not in
the end, call me cut.

If I do not, never trust me,

take it how you will.

Come, I'll go burn some sack,

it is too late to go to bed now.

come, knight.

♪What is love ♪

♪'Tis not herein after ♪

♪Present mark ♪

♪Half present laughter ♪

♪What is to come is still unsure ♪

♪In delay ♪

♪There lies no plenty ♪

♪Men come kiss me ♪

♪ Sweet and twenty ♪

♪Youth that stuff wilt not ♪

♪Endure ♪

[murmurs]

Give me some music now,
good morrow, friends

now, good Cesario, but that piece of song,

that old and antique
song we heard last night.

Me thought it did relieve my passion much,

more than light airs and recollected terms

of these most brisk and giddy-paced times.

Come, but one verse.

He is not here so please your lordship

that should sing it.

Who was it?

Feste the jester, a fool
that the Lady Olivia's father

took much delight in.

He is about the house.

Seek him out and play the tune the while.

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,

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.

Thou dost speak masterly.

My life upon it, young
though thou art, thine eye

hath stayed upon some favor that it loves.

Hath it not, boy?

A little, by your favor.

What kind of woman is't?

Of your complexion.

She is not worth thee
then, what years, in faith?

About your years, my lord.

Too old, by heaven let still
the woman take 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, than women's are.

I think it well, my lord.

Then let thy love be younger than thyself,

thy affection cannot hold the bent.

For women are as roses whose fair flower,

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.

O, fellow, come, the
song we had last night.

Mark it, Cesario it is old and plain.

The spinsters and the knitters in the sun

and the free maids that weave
their thread with bones,

do use to chant it.

It is silly sooth,

and dallies with the innocence
of love like the old age.

Are you ready, sir?

Aye, prithee sing.

[classical music]

♪Come away, come away, death ♪

♪And in sad cypress ♪

♪let me be laid ♪

♪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 ♪

♪No one ♪

♪Share it ♪

♪Not a flower, not a flower sweet ♪

♪On my black coffin ♪

♪let there be strewn ♪

♪Not a friend ,not a friend greet ♪

♪My poor corpse ♪

♪where my bones shall be thrown ♪

♪A thousand thousand sighs to save ♪

♪Lay me, O, ♪

♪Where sad true lover
never find my grave ♪

♪To weep there ♪

There's for thy pains.

O no pains, sir I take
pleasure in singing, sir.

I'll pay thy pleasure, then.

Truly, sir.

Please will be paid will be
paid one time or another.

Give me now leave, to leave thee.

Now the god of melancholy 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 that always
makes a good voyage of nothing.

[laughs loudly]

Farewell.

Let all the rest give place.

Once more, Cesario,

get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty.

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 it is that miracle and queen of gems

that nature pranks her
in, attracts my soul.

But if she cannot love you, sir?

I cannot be so answered.

Sooth, but you must.

Say that some lady, as perhaps there is,

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?

There is no woman's sides,
can bide the beating

of so strong a passion 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.

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.

Ay, but I know

What 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,
I should your lordship.

And what's her history?

A blank my lord, she never told her love,

but let concealment,
like a worm in the bud,

feed on her damask cheek
she pined in thought

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

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?

Aye, that's the theme.

To her in haste give her this jewel say

my love can give no place, bide no denay.

[flute playing]

Come thy ways, Signor Fabian.

Nay, I'll come if I lose
a scruple of this sport,

let me be boiled to death with melancholy.

Thou not be glad to have the niggardly,

rascally sheep-biter come
by some notable shame?

I would exult, man you know he brought me

out of favor with my lady
about a bear-baiting here.

To anger him, we'll have the bear again

and we will fool him black and
blue so is it not Sir Andrew?

An we do not, it is pity of our lives.

Here comes the little villain,
how now, my metal of India?

Get ye all three into the box-tree.

Malvolio's coming down this walk,

he has been yonder in 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.

Lie thou there for here comes the trout

that must be caught with tickling.

It is 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 one of my complexion.

Besides, she uses me with a more

exalted respect than anyone
else that follows her.

[laughs softly]

What should I think on it?

Here's an overweening rogue.

O, peace contemplation makes
a rare turkey-cock of him

how he jets under his advanced plumes.

Slight, I could so beat the rogue.

Peace, I say.

To be Count Malvolio.

Pistol him, pistol him.

There is example for it the lady of the

Strachy married the
yeoman of the wardrobe.

Fie on him Jezebel.

O, peace.

Now he's deeply in look
how imagination blows him.

Having been three months married to her,

sitting in my state .

O for a stone-bow to hit him in the eye.

Calling my officers about me,

in my branched velvet gown,
having come from a day-bed,

where I have left Olivia sleeping.

Fire and brimstone.

O, peace, peace.

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.

Bolts and shackles.

O, peace, peace, peace now, now.

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

[laughs softly]

some rich jewel.

Toby approaches, he curtsies there to me.

Shall this fellow live?

Silence be drawn from us with cars, peace.

I extend my hand to him thus
quenching my familiar smile

with an austere regard of control.

And does not Toby take you
a blow of the lips then?

Saying, cousin Toby, my
fortunes having cast me

on your niece give me this
prerogative of speech.

What,

You must amend your drunkenness.

Out, scab.

Nay, patience, or we break
the sinews of our plot.

Besides, you waste the
treasure of your time

with a foolish knight.

That's me, I warrant you.

One Sir Andrew.

I knew it was I, for many do call me fool.

What employment have we here?

Now is the woodcock near the gin.

O, peace, and the spirit
of humors intimate

reading aloud to him.

By my life, this is my lady's hand.

These be her very C's, her U's and her T's

and thus makes she her great P's.

It is, in contempt of question, her hand.

Her C's, her U's and her T's, why that?

To the unknown beloved this

and my good wishes her very phrases,

by your leave wax soft

and the impressure her Lucrece,
with which she uses to seal.

It is my lady to whom should this be?

This wins him, liver and all.

Jove knows I love, 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 thee, Malvolio.

Marry, hang thee, brock.

I may command where I adore

but silence, like a Lucrece knife,

with bloodless stroke my heart doth gore

M-O-A-I doth sway my life.

A fustian riddle.

Excellent wench, say I.

M-O-A-I doth sway my life.

Nay, but first let me see, let me see,

What dish of poison has she dressed him.

And with what wing the
staniel checks at it

I may command where I adore.

Why, she 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

O, aye, make up that he
is now at a cold scent.

Sowter will cry upon it for all this,

though it be as rank as a fox.

M, Malvolio!

M why, that begins my name.

Did not I say he would work it out?

The cur is excellent at faults.

But then there is no
consonancy in the sequel

that suffers under probation.

A should follow, but O does.

And O shall end, I hope.

Aye, or I'll cudgel
him and make him cry O.

And then I comes behind.

Aye, an you had any eye
behind you, you might

see more detraction at your
heels than fortunes before you.

M-O-A-I.

This simulation is not as the former.

And yet, to crush this a
little, it would bow to me,

for every one of these
letters are in my name.

Soft, here follows prose.

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 some have greatness thrust upon them.

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 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 desirest to be so if
not, let me see[laughs] thee a

steward still, the fellow of servants

and not worthy to touch
fortune's fingers farewell.

She that would alter services
with thee, fortunate unhappy.

Daylight and champain discovers
not more this is 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-device 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.

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,
in yellow stockings

and cross-gartered even with
the swiftness of putting on.

O, jove and my stars be praised
here is yet a postscript.

"Thou canst not choose but know who I am.

If thou entertainest my love,
let it appear in thy smiling,

thy smiles become thee well.

Therefore in my presence still smile,

dear my sweet, I prithee."

[laughs]

Jove, I thank thee I will smile.

I will do everything
that thou wilt have me.

[laughs and cheers]

I will not give my part of
this sport for a pension

of thousands to be paid from the Sophy.

I could marry this wench for this device.

So could I too.

And ask no other dowry with
her but such another jest.

Nor I neither.

Here comes my noble gull-catcher.

Wilt thou set thy foot of my neck?

Or of mine either?

Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip

and become thy bondslave?

In faith, or I either?

Why, thou hast put him in such a dream,

that when the image of it
leaves him, he must run mad.

Nay, but say true does it work upon him?

Like aqua-vitae with a midwife.

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 it is a color she abhors

and cross-gartered a fashion she detests

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.

[laughs]

If you will see it, follow me.

To the gates of Tartar, thou
most excellent devil of wit!

[laughs]

I'll make one too.

[flute playing]

Save thee, friend, and thy music.

Dost thou live by thy tabor?

No, sir, I live by the church.

Art thou a Churchman?

No such matter, sir I
do live by the church

for I do live at my house

and my house doth stand by the church.

Art not thou the Lady Olivia's fool?

O, no indeed, sir, the
Lady Olivia has no folly.

She 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.

I saw thee late at the Count Orsino's.

Foolery, 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?

Nay, an thou pass upon me
I'll no more with thee.

Hold, there's expenses for thee

Now Jove, in his next commodity
of hair send thee a beard!

By my troth, I'll tell thee,
I am almost sick for one

though I would not have it grow on my chin

is thy lady within

Would not a pair of these have bred, sir?

Yes, being kept together and put to use.

O, I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia,

to bring a Cressida to this Troilus.

I understand you, sir it is well begged.

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 might say element, but
the word is over worn.

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,

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 fallen
quite taint their wit.

Save you, gentleman

And you, sir.

Speaks in foreign language.

Foreign language.

I hope sir you are and I am yours.

Will you encounter the
house my niece is desirous

you should enter, if your trade be to her.

I am bound to your niece, sir.

I mean, she is the list of my voyage.

Taste your legs, sir put them to motion.

My legs do better under-stand me sir,

than I understand what you mean
by bidding me taste my legs.

I mean to go, sir, to enter.

I will answer you with gate and entrance.

Most excellent, accomplished lady,

the heavens rain odors on you.

That youth's a rare
courtier rain odors well.

My matter hath no voice, lady,

but to your own most
pregnant and vouchsafed ear.

Odors pregnant and vouchsafed.

I'll get them all three all ready.

Let the garden door be shut
and leave me to my hearing.

Give me your hand, sir.

My duty, madam, and most humble service

What is your name?

Cesario is your servant's
name, fair princess.

My servant, sir it was never merry world

but lowly feigning was called compliment.

You are servant to the
Count Orsino, youth.

And he is yours, and
his must needs be yours.

Your servant's servant
is your servant, madam.

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.

O, by your leave, I pray you.

I bade you never speak again of him.

Would you undertake another suit,

I had rather hear you to solicit

that music from the spheres.

Dear lady

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,

to force that on you in a shameful cunning

which you knew none of
yours what might you think?

Have you not set mine honor at the stake,

and baited it with all
the unmuzzled thoughts

That tyrannous heart can think?

To one of your receiving enough is shown,

a cypress, not a bosom, hides my heart.

So let me hear you speak.

I pity you.

That's a degree to love.

No, not a grise for it is a vulgar proof

that very often we pity enemies.

Why, then, methinks it
is time to smile again.

O world, how out the poor are to be proud.

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,

your wife is like to reap a proper man.

There lies your way, due west.

Then westward ho.

Grace and good disposition
attend your ladyship.

You are nothing, madam, to my lord by me?

Stay, I prithee,

tell me what thou thinks of me?

Do 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.

Would it be better, madam, than I am?

I wish it might, for now I am your fool.

O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful

in the contempt and anger of his lip,

a murderous guilt shows
not itself more soon

than love that would seem
hid love's night is noon.

Cesario, by the roses of the spring,

By maidhood, honor, truth, and everything,

I love thee so

maugre all thy pride,

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.

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,

never more 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.

[birds chirping]

No, faith, I'll not stay a jot longer.

Thy reason, dear venom, give thy reason.

You must needs yield
your reason, Sir Andrew.

Marry, I saw your niece do more favors to

the Count's servingman than
ever she bestowed upon me.

Did she see thee the while,
old boy, tell me that?

As plain as I see you now.

This was a great argument
of love in her toward you.

Slight will you make an ass of me?

I will prove it legitimate, sir,

upon the oaths of judgment and reason.

And they have been grand
jury men since before

Noah was a sailor.

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 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 time wash off,

and you are now sailed into
the north of my lady's opinion,

where you shall hang like an
icicle on a Dutchman's beard,

unless you do redeem it
by some laudable attempt

either of valor or policy.

An't be any way, it must be
with valor, for policy I hate.

Why then, build me thy fortunes
upon the basis of valor.

Challenge me the Count's
youth to fight 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.

There is no way but this, Sir Andrew.

Will either of you bear
me a challenge to him?

Go, write it in a martial hand.

Be curst and brief i
is no matter how witty,

so it be eloquent and full of invention.

Taunt him with the license of ink.

If thou thouest him some
thrice it shall not 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 them down go about it.

Let there be gall enough in thy ink,

though thou write with a
goose pen, no matter about it.

Where shall I find you?

We'll call thee at thy cubiculo, go.

[laughs]

This is a dear manikin to you, Sir Toby.

I have been dear to him lad
some two thousand strong or so

We shall have a rare letter from him.

But you'll not deliver it?

Never trust me then and
by all means stir on

the youth to an answer.

I think oxen and wain-ropes
cannot hale them together.

For Andrew, if he were opened
and you find so much blood

in his liver as will
clog the foot of a flea,

I'll eat the rest of the anatomy.

And his opposite the
youth bears in his visage

no great presage of cruelty.

Look where the youngest
wren of nine comes.

If you desire the spleen
and will laugh yourselves

into stitches, follow me
young gull Malvolio is turned

heathen, a very renegado
for there is no Christian,

that means to be saved by
believing rightly can ever believe

such impossible passages of grossness.

He's in yellow stockings

[laughs]

And cross-gartered?

Most villainously like a pedant that keeps

a school in the church I have
dogged him like his 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 it is.

I can hardly forbear
hurling things at him,

I know my lady will strike him.

If she do, he'll smile and
take it for a great favor.

[laughs loudly]

Come, bring us, bring us where he is.

[laughs]

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, more sharp than
filed 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 skilless in these
parts which to a stranger,

unguided and unfriended, often
prove rough and unhospitable.

My willing love, the rather
by these arguments of fear,

set forth in your pursuit.

My kind Antonio,

I can no other answer make
but thanks and thanks.

And ever thanks and of
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?

Shall we go see the reliques of this town?

Tomorrow, sir best first
go see your lodging.

I am not weary, and it is long to night.

I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes

with the memorials and the things of fame

that do renown this city.

Would you'd pardon me.

I do not without danger
walk these streets.

Once in a sea-fight against
the Count his galleys

I did some service of such note indeed

that, were I ta'en here, it
would scarce be answered.

Belike you slew great
number of his people?

[laughs]

The offense is not of
such a bloody nature,

albeit the quality of the time and quarrel

might well have given us bloody argument.

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 lapsed in
this place, I shall pay dear.

Do not then walk too open.

It does not fit me.

Hold, sir, here's my purse.

In the south suburbs, at the
Elephant, is best to lodge.

I will bespeak our diet
whiles you beguile the time

and feed your knowledge
with viewing of the town.

There shall you have me.

Why I your purse?

Haply your eye shall light upon some toy

you have desire to
purchase and your store,

I think, is not for idle markets, sir.

I'll be your purse-bearer,
and leave you for an hour.

To the Elephant.

I do remember.

[dog barking]

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 borrowed.

I speak too loud.

Where's Malvolio?

He is sad and civil and
suits well for a servant

with my fortunes where is Malvolio?

He's coming, madam, but
in very strange manner.

He is sure possessed, madam.

Why, what's the matter does he rave?

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 is wits.

Go, call him hither.

I am as mad as he if sad
and merry madness equal be.

How now, Malvolio?

Sweet lady ho ho.

Smilest thou I sent for
thee upon a sad occasion.

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 please all.

Why, how dost thou, man what
is the matter with thee?

Not black in my mind,
though yellow in my legs.

It did come to his hands

and commands shall be executed.

I think we do know the sweet Roman hand.

Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio?

To bed aye, sweetheart,
and I'll come to thee.

God comfort thee why dost thou smile so

and kiss thy hand so often?

How do you, Malvolio?

At your request, yes
nightingales answer daws.

Why appear you with this

ridiculous boldness before my lady?

Be not afraid of greatness
it was well writ.

What mean's thou by that, Malvolio?

Some are born great.

Some achieve greatness.

Says thou?

And some have greatness thrust upon them.

Heaven restore thee.

Remember who commended
thy yellow stockings?

Thy yellow stockings?

And wished to see thee cross-gartered.

Cross-gartered?

Go to, thou art made if
thou desir'st to be so.

Am I maid.

Or else let me see thee a servant still.

Why, this is very midsummer madness.

Madam, the young gentleman
of the Count Orsino's

is returned I could
hardly entreat him back.

He attends your ladyship's pleasure.

I'll come to him.

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 dowry.

O 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 [laughs]

Cast thy humble slough, 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 a manner 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
concurs together,

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 he is to be thanked.

[bell rings]

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.

Here he is, how is it with you, sir?

How is it with you, man?

Go off, I discard you.

Let me enjoy my private, go off.

Lo, how hollow the
fiend speaks within him.

Did not I tell you Sir Toby,

my lady prays you to have a care of him.

Ah ha does she so?

Go to, go to peace, we
must deal gently with him.

Leave me alone how now, Malvolio?

How is it with you what,
man, defy the devil?

Consider, he's an enemy to mankind.

Do you know what you say?

La you, an you speak ill of the devil,

how he takes it at heart
pray God he be not bewitched.

Carry his water to the wise woman.

Marry, and it shall be
done tomorrow morning,

if I live my lady would not lose him,

for more than I'll say.

-How now, mistress?
-O Lord!

Prithee, hold thy peace,
this is not the way.

Do you not see you move him?

Let me alone with him.

No way but gentleness, gently.

The fiend is rough, and
will not be roughly used.

Why, how now, my bawcock?

How dost thou, chuck?

Sir.

Get him to say his prayers,
good Sir Toby get him to pray.

My prayers, minx,

No, I warrant you, he will
not hear of godliness.

Go, hang yourselves all you
are idle, shallow things,

I am not of your element you
shall know more hereafter.

[laughs]

Is it possible?

If this were played upon a stage now,

I could condemn it as
an improbable fiction.

Why his very genius
hath taken the infection

of the device, man.

Nay, pursue him now lest the
device take air and taint.

Why, we should make him mad indeed.

The house will be the quieter.

Come, we'll have him in a dark room

and 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 finder of madmen.

But see, but see.

More matter for a May morning.

Here's the challenge read it,

I warrant there's
vinegar and pepper in it.

Is it so saucy?

Aye, is it, I warrant him do but read.

Give me.

Youth, whatsoever thou art,

thou art but a scurvy fellow.

Good and valiant.

Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind,

why I do call thee so,

for I will show thee no reason for it.

A good note, that keeps you
from the blow of the law.

Thou comes to the Lady Olivia

and in my sight she uses thee kindly.

But thou liest in thy throat,

that is not the matter
I challenge thee for.

Very brief, and to
exceeding good sense less.

I will waylay thee going home where,

if it be thy chance to kill me.

Good.

Thou kills me like a rogue and a villain.

Still you keep of the windy
side of the law it is good.

Fare thee well, and God have
mercy upon one of our souls.

He may have mercy upon
mine, but my hope is better

and so, look to thyself.

Thy friend as thou uses him,

and thy sworn enemy, Andrew Aguecheek.

If this letter move him not,

his legs cannot I'll give't him.

You may have very fit occasion for it.

He is now in some commerce with my lady,

and will by and by depart.

Go, Sir Andrew. Scout
me for him at the corner

of the orchard like a bum-baily.

So soon as ever thou seest him draw

and as thou drawest, 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 would have earned him away.

Nay, let me alone for swearing.

[murmurs]

[laughs]

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 his lord

and my niece proclaims no less.

Therefore this letter, being
so excellently ignorant,

will breed no terror in the youth

he will find it comes from a clod pole.

But Sir I will deliver his
challenge by word of mouth

set upon Aguecheek a
notable 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,

they will kill one another by
the look, like cockatrices.

[laughing loudly]

I have said too much
unto a heart of stone,

and laid mine honor too unchary heart.

Something in me that reproves my fault

such a headstrong, potent fault it is,

that it but mocks reproof.

With the same haviour
that your passion bears

goes on my master's griefs.

Here, wear this jewel
for me, it is my picture.

Or 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,

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?

I will acquit you.

Come again tomorrow fare thee well.

A fiend like thee might
bear my soul to hell.

Gentleman, God save thee.

And you, sir.

That defense thou hast, betake thee to it.

of what nature the wrongs
are thou hast done him,

I know not but thy
interceptor 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.

Your 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.

You'll find it otherwise,
I assure you Sir.

Therefore, if you hold
your life at any price,

betake you to your guard,

for your opposite hath in him what youth,

strength, skill, and wrath
can furnish man withal.

I beseech you, sir, what is he?

He is knight dubbed with unhatched rapier

and on carpet consideration

but he is a devil in private
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 sepulchre Hob, nob is
his word, give it or take it.

I 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.

Sir, No his indignation derives itself out

of a very computent 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, or strip
your sword stark naked

for meddle you must, that's certain,

or forswear to wear iron about you.

This is as uncivil as strange.

I beseech you, to me do
this courteous office,

as to know of the knight
what my offense to him is.

It is something of my negligence,
nothing of my purpose.

Well, I will do so.

Signor Fabian, stay you by
this gentleman till I return.

[sigh]

I Pray you, sir, do you
know of this matter?

I know the knight is incensed against you,

even to a mortal arbitrement,

but nothing of the circumstance more.

I pray you sir, what manner of man is he?

Nothing of that wonderful promise,

to read him by his form,
as you are like to find him

in the proof of his valor [laughs]

He is indeed, sir, the
most skillful, fatal,

and bloody opposite
that you could possibly

have found in any part of Illyria.

Will you walk towards him Sir?

I will make your peace with him, if I can.

O, I shall be much bound to you for it.

I am one that had rather go
with Sir Priest than Sir Knight,

I care not who knows so much of my mettle.

Why, man, he's a very devil.

I have not seen such a firago.

I had a pass with him,
rapier, scabbard and all

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 to the Sophy.

Pox on it I'll not meddle with him.

Aye, but he will not now be pacified.

Fabian can scarce hold him yonder.

Plague on it an I thought
he had been 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 Capilet.

I'll make the motion.

[footstep]

[birds chirping]

Stand here, make a good show unto.

This shall end without
the perdition of souls.

Marry, I'll ride your
horse as well as I ride you

I have his horse to take up the quarrel.

I have persuaded him the youth's a devil.

He is as horribly conceited of him,

and pants looks pale as if
a bear were at his heels.

There's no remedy, sir, he will fight

with you for's oath's
sake Marry he hath better

be thought 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.

Pray God defend me a little thing would

make me tell them how
much I lack of a man.

[screams]

Give ground if you see him furious.

Come, Sir Andrew, there's no remedy.

The gentleman will, for his
honor's sake, have one bout

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 it

Pray God, he keep his oath

I do assure you, it is against my will.

[swords clanking]

Ah ha ha.

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.

You, sir why, what are you?

One, sir, that for his
love dares yet do more

than you have heard him
brag to you he will.

Nay, if you be an
undertaker, I am for you.

[swords clanks]

[groans]

O good Sir Toby, hold
here come the Officers.

I'll be with you anon.

Pray sir, put your
sword up, if you please.

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.

This is the man do thy office.

Antonio, I arrest thee at
the suit of Count Orsino.

You do mistake me, sir.

No, sir, no jot, I know your favor well,

though now you have no
sea cap on your head.

Take him away he knows I know him well.

I must obey.

This comes with seeking you

there's no remedy, I shall answer it.

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.

Come, sir, away.

I must entreat of you some of that money.

What money, sir?

For the fair kindness
you have showed me here,

and part being prompted
by your present trouble,

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 here is half my coffer.

Can you deny me now?

It is 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.

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

inhabits our frail blood.

O heavens themselves.

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

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 vild an idol proves this God

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 beauty is evil

are empty trunks over
flourished by the devil.

The man grows mad away
with him ccome, sir.

Lead me on.

Methinks his words do
from such passion fly

that he believes himself so do not I?

Prove true, imagination, O, prove true

that I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you

Come hither knight come hither Fabian.

He named Sebastian.

I my brother know 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.

A 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.

A coward, a most devout
coward, religious in it.

O, slid I'll after him again and beat him.

Do, cuff him soundly,
but never draw thy sword.

An I do not.

Come, let's see the event.

I dare lay any money,
it will be nothing yet.

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

Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow

Let me be clear of thee.

Well held out, in faith [laughs]

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 [laughs]

nor this is not my nose, neither
nothing that is so, is so.

I prithee, vent thy folly somewhere else,

thou knowest not me.

Vent my folly he has heard
that word of some great man

and now applies it to a fool.

Vent my folly I am afraid
this great lubber the world

will prove a cockney [laughs]

I prithee now ungird
thy strangeness tell me

what I shall vent to my lady?

Shall I vent to her that thou art coming?

I prithee, foolish Greek, depart from me,

there's money for thee,
if you tarry longer,

I should give worse payment.

By my troth, thou hast an open hand.

These wise men that give fools money

get themselves a good report
after fourteen years purchase.

Now, sir, have I met you again?

There's for you.

Why, there's for thee and there and there

are all the people mad?

Hold, sir or I'll throw
your dagger over the house.

This will I tell my lady straight.

I would not be in some of
your coats, for twopence.

Come on, sir, hold.

Nay, let him alone I'll go
another way to work with him.

I'll have an action of
battery against him,

if there be any law in Illyria,

though I struck him first,
yet it's no matter for that.

Let go thy hand.

Come, Sir I will not let you
go come my young soldier,

put up your iron you are
well fleshed come on Sir.

I will be free from thee [sigh]

What wouldst thou now?

If thou darest tempt me
further, draw thy sword.

What, what Nay, then, I must have an ounce

this malapert blood from me.

[swords clanking]

[men groans]

Aha

[sword clanking]

Hold, Toby on thy life I charge thee hold.

Madam.

Ungracious wretch, fit for the mountains

and the barbarous caves where
manners never were preached,

out of my sight be not
offended, dear Cesario.

Rudesby, be gone

I prithee, gentle friend,
let thy fair wisdom,

not thy passion, sway in this uncivil

and unjust extent against thy peace.

Go with me to my house, and
hear thou there how many

fruitless pranks this
ruffian hath botched up,

that thou thereby mayst smile at this.

Thou shalt not choose but go do not deny.

beshrew his soul for me

He started one poor
heart of mine, in thee.

What relish is in this
how runs the stream?

Or I am mad, or else this is a dream.

Let fancy still my sense in lethe steep

if it be thus to dream, still let me sleep

Nay, come I prithee would
thou'dst be ruled by me.

Madam, I will.

O, say so, and so be

[birds chirping]

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.

Well, I'll put it on and I
will dissemble myself in it,

and I would I were the
first that ever dissembled

in such a gown, ah the competitors enter.

Jove bless thee, master Parson

Bonos dies, Sir Toby, for
as the old hermit of Prague

that never saw pen and ink very wittily

said to a niece of King Gorboduc,

that that is, is so I,
being master Parson,

am master Parson for what is
that but that and is but is

To him, Sir Topas.

What ho, I say peace in this prison.

The knave counterfeits well a good knave.

Who calls there?

Sir Topas the curate,

that comes to visit Malvolio the lunatic.

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

Out, hyperbolical fiend,
how vexest thou this man.

Talkest thou nothing but of ladies?

Well said, master Parson.

Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged.

Good Sir Topas, do not think I am mad.

They have laid me here in hideous darkness

Fie, thou dishonest Satan
I call thee by the most

modest terms for I am
one of those gentle ones

that will use the devil
himself with courtesy.

Sayest thou that house is dark?

As hell, Sir Topas.

Why, it hath bay windows
transparent as barricadoes,

and the clerestories
toward the south, north

are as lustrous as ebony
and yet complainest

thou of obstruction.

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

Madman, thou errest I
say there is no darkness

but ignorance, fare thee well

Sir Topas, Sir Topas

My most exquisite Sir Topas

Nay, I am for all waters.

Thou mightst have done
this without thy beard

and gown he sees thee not.

To him in thine own voice,

and bring me word how thou findest him.

I would we were well rid of this knavery.

If he may be conveniently delivered,

I would he were, for I
am now so far in offense

with my niece that I cannot
pursue with any safety

this sport the upshot.

Come by and by to my chamber.

Hey Robin, jolly Robin.

♪Tell me how thy lady does ♪

Fool.

♪My lady is unkind, perdy ♪

Fool.

♪Alas, why is she so ♪

Fool, I say.

♪She loves another ♪

Who calls, ha?

Good fool, as ever thou wilt
deserve well at my hand,

help me to a candle and pen, ink,

and paper as I am a gentleman

I will live to be thankful to the for it

[footstep]

Master Malvolio?

Aye, good fool.

Alas, Sir, how fell you
besides your five wits?

Fool, there was never man
so notoriously abused.

I am as well in my
wits, fool, as thou art.

But as well then you are mad indeed,

if you be no better in
your wits than a fool.

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.

Advise you what you say
the minister is here.

Malvolio, Malvolio, thy
wits the heavens restore,

endeavour thyself to sleep and
leave thy vain bibble-babble.

Sir Topas.

Maintain no words with him, good fellow.

Who, I, sir, not I, sir.
God buy you, good Sir Topas.

Marry, amen.

I will, sir, I will.

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.

I will help you to it but tell me true,

are you not mad indeed,
or do you but counterfeit?

Believe me, I am not I tell thee true.

Nay, I'll ne'er believe a
madman till I see his brains.

I will fetch you light,
and paper, and ink.

Fool, I'll requite it
in the highest degree.

I prithee, be gone.

♪I am gone, Sir, and anon, Sir ♪

♪I'll be with you again ♪

♪In a trice, like to the old Vice ♪

♪your need to sustain ♪

♪Who with dagger of lath,
in his rage and his wrath ♪

♪cries ah ha to the devil ♪

♪Like a mad lad pare thy nails, dad ♪

♪Adieu, goodman devil. ♪

[birds chirping]

This is the air that is the glorious sun,

this pearl she gave me,
I do feel it and see it

and though it is wonder
that enwraps me thus,

yet it is not madness
where's Antonio, then?

I could not find him at the Elephant.

yet there he was and
there I found this credit

that he did range the town to seek me out.

His counsel now might
do me golden service.

For though my soul
disputes well with my sense

that this may be some
error, but no madness,

Yet doth this accident
and flood of fortune

so far exceed all instance, all discourse,

that I am ready to distrust mine eyes,

and wrangle with my
reason that persuades me

to any other trust but that I am mad

or else the lady's mad

yet if it were so, she
could not sway her house,

command her followers,
take and give back affairs

and their dispatch, with
such a smooth, discreet

and stable bearing as I perceive she does.

There's something in
it that is deceivable.

But here the lady comes.

Blame not this haste of
mine if you mean well,

now go with me and with this holy man

into the chantry by there before him

and underneath that consecrated roof

plight me the full
assurance of your faith,

that my most jealous and too doubtful soul

may live at peace he shall conceal it

whiles you are willing
it shall come to note,

what time we will our celebration keep

according to my birth what do you say?

I'll follow this good man and go with you,

and having sworn truth, ever will be true.

Then lead the way, good father,

and heavens so shine
that they may fairly note

this act of mine.

Now, as thou lovest me,
let me see his letter.

Good Master Fabian,
grant me another request.

Anything

Do not desire to see this letter.

This is to give a dog,

and in recompense desire my dog again.

Belong you to the Lady Olivia, friends?

Aye, sir, we are some of her trappings.

I know thee well.

How dost thou, my good fellow?

Truly, sir, the better for my foes

and the worse for my friends.

Just the contrary the
better for thy friends.

No, sir the worse.

How can that be?

Marry, 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.

If you will let your
lady know that I am here

to speak with her?

And bring her along with
you, it may awake my bounty

O, lullaby to your
bounty till I come again.

I will awake it soon.

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.

A baubling vessel was he
captain of, for shallow draft

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

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.

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 it was, but distraction.

Notable pirate, thou
salt-water thief, what foolish

boldness brought thee to
their mercies whom thou,

in terms so bloody and so
dear, hath made thine enemies?

Orsino, noble sir,

be pleased that I shake off
these names you give me.

Antonio never yet was thief
or pirate, though, I confess,

on base and ground enough, Orsino's enemy.

A witchcraft drew me hither.

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,

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

not meaning to partake with me in danger

taught him to face me
out of his acquaintance,

and grew a twenty years removed thing

while one would wink

denied me mine own purse

which I had recommended to his use

not half an hour before.

How can this be?

When came he to this town?

Today, my lord and for three months before

no interim, not a minute's vacancy,

both day and night, did we keep company.

Here comes the Countess
now heaven walks on earth

but for thee fellow, fellow
thy words are madness.

Three months this youth
hath tended upon me,

but more of that anon take him aside.

[bell rings gently]

What would my lord but
that he may not have

wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?

Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.

-Madam.
-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,

it is as fat and fulsome to
mine ear as howling after music.

Still so cruel?

Still so constant, lord.

What, to perverseness you uncivil lady,

to whose ingrate and unauspicious altars

my soul the faithfullest
offerings hath 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.

Like to be a Egyptian
thief at point of death

kill what I love a savage jealousy

that sometime savors
nobly, but hear me this,

since you to non-regardance cast my faith,

and that I partly know the instrument

which screws me from my
true place in your favor,

Leave 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

where he sits crowned
in his master's spite.

come boy with me my thoughts
are ripe in mischief.

I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love

to spite a raven's heart within a dove.

And I most jocund apt and
willingly to do you rest,

a thousand deaths would die.

Where goes Cesario?

After him I love

more than I love these
eyes, more than my life,

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.

Aye me, detested how am I beguiled.

Who does beguile you,
who does do you wrong?

Hast thou forgot thyself is it so long?

Call forth the holy father.

Come, away.

Whither, my lord Cesario, husband, stay.

Husband?

Aye, husband, can he that deny?

Her husband, sirrah?

No, my lord, not I.

Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear

that makes thee strangle thy propriety.

Fear not, Cesario, take thy fortunes up.

Be that thou knowest thou
art, and then thou art

as great as that thou fear'st.

O, welcome, Father.

Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence,

here to unfold though lately we intended

to keep in darkness what
occasion now reveals before

it is ripe what thou dost
know hath newly passed

between this youth and me.

A contract of eternal bond of love,

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,

since when, my watch hath
told me, toward my grave

I have traveled but two hours.

O thou dissembling cub

What wilt thou be when time hath sowed

a grizzle on thy case?

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

O, do not swear

how little faith, though
thou hast too much fear.

For the love of God,

a surgeon send one presently to Sir Toby.

What's the matter?

He's broke my head across, and he's given

Sir Toby a bloody coxcomb
too for the love of God,

your help I had rather than
forty pound I were at home.

Who has done this, Sir Andrew?

The Count's gentleman, one Cesario.

We took him for a coward,

but he's the very devil incardinate.

My gentleman, Cesario?

Od's li`felings, here he is.

You broke my head for nothing

and that that I did, I was
set on to do it 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.

If a bloody coxcomb be a
hurt, you have hurt me.

I think you set nothing
by a bloody coxcomb.

Here comes Sir Toby
halting, you shall hear more

but if he had not been in drink,

he would have tickled you
other gates than he did.

How now, gentleman, how is it with you?

That's all one,

he's hurt me and there's the end on it.

Sot, didst see Dick Surgeon, sot?

O, he's drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone.

His eyes were set at eight in the morning.

Then he's a rogue and
a passy-measures pavin.

I hate a drunken rogue.

Away with him who hath
made this havoc with them?

I'll help you, Sir Toby,

because we'll be dressed together.

Will you help, an asshead, and a coxcomb,

and a knave - a thin-faced knave, a gull.

[laughs]

Get him to bed, and let
his hurt be looked to.

I am sorry, madam, I
have hurt your kinsman.

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

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

since I have lost thee.

Sebastian, are you?

Fear'st thou that, Antonio?

How have you made division of yourself?

An apple cleft in two is not more twin

than these two creatures.

Which is Sebastian?

Most wonderful.

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

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.

so went he suited to his watery tomb.

If spirits can assume both form

and shape you come to fright us.

A spirit I am indeed,

but am in that dimension grossly clad

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, drowned Viola.

My father had a mole upon his brow.

And 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 finished indeed his mortal act

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

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

hath been between this lady and this lord.

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.

You are betrothed both to a maid and man.

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

thou never shouldst love woman like to me.

And all those sayings will I over swear

and those swearings keep as true in soul

as doth that orbed continent the fire

that severs day from night.

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,

a gentleman and follower of my lady's.

He shall enlarge him
fetch Malvolio hither.

and yet, alas, now I remember me,

they say, poor gentleman,
he's much distract.

A most extracting frenzy of mine own

from my remembrance clearly banished his.

How does he, sirrah?

Truly, madam, he holds
Beelzebub at the stave's

end as well as a man in his case may do.

He's here writ a letter to you.

I should have given it you today morning.

But as a madman's epistles are no gospels,

it skills not much when
they are delivered.

Open it, and read it.

Then look, to be well edified

when the fool delivers the madman.

By the Lord, madam.

How now, art thou mad?

No, madam I do but read madness.

And your ladyship will
have it as it ought to be,

you must allow vox.

Prithee, read it thy right wits.

So I do, Madonna but to read
his right wits, is to read

thus therefore perpend
my princess and give ear.

Read it you, sirrah.

"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 ladyship,

I have you wrote your
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
the madly-used Malvolio."

Did he write this?

Aye, madam.

This savors not much of distraction.

See him delivered,
Fabian, bring him forth.

My lord, so please you, these
things further thought on,

to think me as well a sister as a wife,

one day shall crown the
alliance on it, so please you,

here at my house and at my proper cost.

Madam, I am most apt
to embrace your offer.

Your master quits you

and for your service done him

so much against the mettle of your sex,

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.

Sister, you are she.

Is this the madman?

Aye, my lord, this same.

How now, Malvolio?

Madam, you have done me
wrong, notorious wrong.

Have I, Malvolio, No

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,

or say it is not your
seal nor 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,

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,

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 it is Maria's hand.

And now I do remember me,
it was she first told me

thou wast mad then, camest
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,

but when we know the grounds
and authors of it, thou shalt

be both the plaintiff and
the judge of thine own cause.

[birds chirping]

Good madam, hear me speak

and let no quarrel, nor no brawl to come,

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

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,

if that the injuries be justly weighed

that have on both sides passed.

Alas, poor fool how
have they baffled thee.

Why, some are born great,
some achieve greatness,

and some have greatness thrown upon them.

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 his revenges.

I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you

[bell rings gently]

He hath been most notoriously abused.

Pursue him and entreat him to a peace.

He hath not told us of the Captain yet,

when that is known, and
golden time convents,

a solemn combination shall be made

of our dear souls mean time, sweet sister,

we will not part from hence.

Cesario, come for so you
shall be, while you are a man.

But when in other habits you
are seen Orsino's mistress

and his fancy's queen,

[birds chirping]

[soft music]

♪When that I was and a little tiny boy ♪

♪With hey-ho, the wind and the rain ♪

♪A foolish thing was but a toy ♪

♪For the rain it raineth every day ♪

♪But when I came to man's estate ♪

♪With hey-ho, the wind and the rain ♪

♪Against knaves and thieves
men shut their gate ♪

♪For the rain it raineth every day ♪

♪It raineth every day ♪

♪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 ♪

♪With hey-ho, the wind and the rain ♪

♪With tosspots still had drunken heads ♪

♪For the rain it raineth every day ♪

♪ It raineth every day ♪

♪A great while ago the world began ♪

♪With hey-ho, the wind and the rain ♪

♪But that's all one our play is done ♪

♪And we'll strive to ♪

♪Please you every day ♪

♪To please you every day ♪

[classical music ]