Twelfth Night; or, What You Will

Sir And. If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me: I think, you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb.

Sir To. [Without.] Holla, Sir Andrew, – where are you?

Sir And. Here comes Sir Toby halting, you shall hear more: but if he had not been in drink, he would have tickled your Toby for you.

Enter Sir Toby, drunk, with his Forehead bleeding.

Duke. How now, gentleman? how is't with you?

Sir To. That's all one; he has hurt me, and there's the end on't. – Sot, did'st see Dick surgeon, sot?

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

Sir To. Then he's a rogue, a drunken rogue, – and I hate a drunken rogue.

[Enter Sebastian behind.

Oli. Away with him: Who hath made this havock with them?

Sir And. I'll help you, Sir Toby, because we'll be dress'd together.

Sir To. Will you help an ass head, and a coxcomb, and a knave? a thin-faced knave, a gull!

Oli. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd to.

[Exeunt Sir Andrew, Sir Toby, and Servants.

Seb. [Advances] 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.

[Antonio, seeing Sebastian, comes forward.

You throw a strange regard upon me, andBy that I do perceive it hath offended you;Pardon me, sweet one, even for the vowsWe made each other but so late ago.Duke. One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons;A natural perspective, that is, and is not.Seb. Antonio, O my dear Antonio!How have the hours rack'd and tortured me.Since I have lost thee.Ant. Sebastian are you?Seb. Fear'st thou that, Antonio?Ant. How have you made division of yourself? —An apple, cleft in two, is not more twinThan these two creatures. Which is Sebastian?Seb. [Sees Viola.] Do I stand there? I never had a brother:I had a sister,Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd: —Of charity, [To Viola.] what kin are you to me?What countryman? what name? what parentage?Vio. 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 suit,You come to fright us.Seb. Were you a woman, as the rest goes even,I should my tears let fall upon your cheek,And say – Thrice welcome, drowned Viola!Vio. If nothing lets to make us happy both,But this my masculine usurp'd attire,Away with doubt: – each other circumstanceOf place, time, fortune, doth cohere, and jump,That I am Viola, – your sister Viola. [They embrace.Seb. [To Olivia.] So comes it, lady, you have been mistook.Duke. If this be so, as yet the glass seems true,I shall have share in this most happy wreck: —Boy, [To Viola.] thou hast said to me a thousand times,Thou never should'st love woman like to me.Vio. And all those sayings will I over-swear;And all those swearings keep as true in soul,As doth that orbed continent the fireThat severs day from night.Duke. Give me thy hand;And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds.Vio. 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.Oli. He shall enlarge him: – Fetch Malvolio hither: —And yet, alas, now I remember me,They say, poor gentleman, he's much distract.

Enter Clown, with a Letter, and Fabian.

How does Malvolio, sirrah?

Clo. Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the stave's end, as well as a man in his case may do: he has here writ a letter to you: I should have given it you to-day morning; but as a madman's epistles are no gospels, so it skills not much, when they are deliver'd.

Oli. Open it, and read it.

Clo. Look then to be well edified, when the fool delivers the madman: [Reads.] By the Lord, madam, —

Oli. How now! art thou mad?

Clo. No, madam, I do but read madness.

Oli. [To Fabian.] Read it you, sirrah.

Fab. [Reads.] By the Lord, madam, you wrong me, and the world shall know it: though you have put me into darkness, and given your drunken cousin rule over me, yet have I the benefit of my senses as well as your ladyship. I have your own letter that induced me to the semblance I put on; with the which I doubt not but to do myself much right, or you much shame. Think of me as you please. I leave my duty a little unthought of, and speak out of my injury. The madly-used Malvolio.

Oli. Did he write this?

Clo. Ay, madam.

Duke. This savours not much of distraction.

Oli. See him deliver'd, Fabian; bring him hither.

[Exit Fabian.

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't, so please you,Here at my house.Duke. Madam, I am most apt to embrace your offer. —Your master quits you; [To Viola.] and, for your service done him,Here is my hand; you shall from this time beYour master's mistress.

Enter Malvolio, with a Letter, and Fabian.

Duke. Is this the madman?Oli. Ay, my lord, this same:How now, Malvolio?Mal. Madam, you have done me wrong,Notorious wrong.Oli. Have I, Malvolio? no.Mal. Lady, you have. Pray you peruse that letter:

[Gives Olivia the Letter.

You must not now deny it is your hand; —(Write from it, if you can, in hand, or phrase;) —Or, say, 'tis not your seal, nor your invention.Oli. Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing;Though, I confess, much like the character:But, out of question, 'tis Maria's hand: —And now I do bethink me, it was sheFirst told me, thou wast mad: —Pr'ythee, be content:This practice hath most shrewdly pass'd upon thee:But, when we know the grounds and authors of it,Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judgeOf thine own cause.Fab. Good madam, hear me speak:I do confess, Sir Toby, and myself,Set this device against Malvolio here,Upon some stubborn and uncourteous partsWe had conceived against him: Maria writThe letter, at Sir Toby's great importance;In recompense whereof, he hath married her:How with a sportful malice it was follow'd,May rather pluck on laughter than revenge;If that the injuries be justly weigh'd,That have on both sides pass'd.Oli. Alas, poor fool! how have they baffled thee!Fab. Malvolio! —

Clo. Why, —Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them– I was one, sir, in this interlude; one Sir Topas, sir: —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 gagg'd: – And thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges. – Ha, ha, ha!

Fab. Ha, ha, ha! —Mal. I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you.

[Exit Malvolio.

Oli. He hath been most notoriously abused.Pursue him, and entreat him to a peace.

[Exit Fabian.

Duke. He hath not told us of the captain yet;When that is known, and golden time convents,A solemn combination shall be madeOf our dear souls: – Meantime, sweet sister,We will not part from hence – Go, officers;We do discharge you of your prisoner.

[Exeunt Officers.

Antonio, thou hast well deserved our thanks:Thy kind protection of Cesario's person,(Although thou knew'st not then for whom thou fought'st,)Merits our favour: Henceforth, be forgottenAll cause of anger: Thou hast a noble spirit,And as Sebastian's friend be ever near him. —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.The Clown sings.When that I was and a little tiny boy,With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,A foolish thing was but a toy;For the rain it raineth every day.But when I came to man's estate,With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,'Gainst knave and thief men shut their gate;For the rain 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 bed,With hey, ho, the wind, and the rain,With toss pots still had drunken head;For the rain it raineth every day.A great while ago the world begun,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.

[Exeunt.

THE END