- Home >
- Primary Sources >
- Books & Plays >
- William Shakespeare >
- William Shakespeare: Twelfth Night, Act II, Scene V
TrendingHere are the facts and trivia that people are buzzing about.
Did Birds Evolve from Dinosaurs?
The Twelve Dancing Princesses
Current Events This Week: January 2023
African Americans by the Numbers
Andersen’s Fairy Tales: Contents
The Celtic Twilight: A Teller of Tales
Scene VOlivia’s gardenEnter Sir Toby Belch, Sir Andrew, and FabianSir Toby BelchCome thy ways, Signior Fabian.FabianNay, I’ll come: if I lose a scruple of this sport, let me be boiled to death with melancholy.Sir Toby BelchWouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly rascally sheep-biter come by some notable shame?FabianI would exult, man: you know, he brought me out o’ favour with my lady about a bear-baiting here.Sir Toby BelchTo anger him we’ll have the bear again; and we will fool him black and blue: shall we not, Sir Andrew?Sir AndrewAn we do not, it is pity of our lives.Sir Toby BelchHere comes the little villain.Enter MariaHow now, my metal of India!MariaGet ye all three into the box-tree: Malvolio’s coming down this walk: he has been yonder i’ the sun practising 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,Throws down a letterfor here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling.ExitEnter MalvolioMalvolio’Tis but fortune; all is fortune. Maria once told me she did affect me: and I have heard herself come thus near, that, should she fancy, it should be one of my complexion. Besides, she uses me with a more exalted respect than any one else that follows her. What should I think on’t?Sir Toby BelchHere’s an overweening rogue!FabianO, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him: how he jets under his advanced plumes!Sir Andrew’Slight, I could so beat the rogue!Sir Toby BelchPeace, I say.MalvolioTo be Count Malvolio!Sir Toby BelchAh, rogue!Sir AndrewPistol him, pistol him.Sir Toby BelchPeace, peace!MalvolioThere is example for’t; the lady of the Strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe.Sir AndrewFie on him, Jezebel!FabianO, peace! now he’s deeply in: look how imagination blows him.MalvolioHaving been three months married to her, sitting in my state,—Sir Toby BelchO, for a stone-bow, to hit him in the eye!MalvolioCalling my officers about me, in my branched velvet gown; having come from a day-bed, where I have left Olivia sleeping,—Sir Toby BelchFire and brimstone!FabianO, peace, peace!MalvolioAnd then to have the humour of state; and after a demure travel of regard, telling them I know my place as I would they should do theirs, to for my kinsman Toby,—Sir Toby BelchBolts and shackles!FabianO peace, peace, peace! now, now.MalvolioSeven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for him: I frown the while; and perchance wind up watch, or play with my—some rich jewel. Toby approaches; courtesies there to me,—Sir Toby BelchShall this fellow live?FabianThough our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace.MalvolioI extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar smile with an austere regard of control,—Sir Toby BelchAnd does not Toby take you a blow o’ the lips then?MalvolioSaying, ‘Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast me on your niece give me this prerogative of speech,’—Sir Toby BelchWhat, what?Malvolio’You must amend your drunkenness.‘Sir Toby BelchOut, scab!FabianNay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot.Malvolio’Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish knight,’—Sir AndrewThat’s me, I warrant you.Malvolio’One Sir Andrew,’—Sir AndrewI knew ’twas I; for many do call me fool.MalvolioWhat employment have we here?Taking up the letterFabianNow is the woodcock near the gin.Sir Toby BelchO, peace! and the spirit of humour intimate reading aloud to him!MalvolioBy 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.Sir AndrewHer C’s, her U’s and her T’s: why that?MalvolioReads“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: ’tis my lady. To whom should this be?FabianThis wins him, liver and all.MalvolioReads“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?Sir Toby BelchMarry, hang thee, brock!MalvolioReadsI 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.FabianA fustian riddle!Sir Toby BelchExcellent wench, say I.Malvolio“M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.” Nay, but first, let me see, let me see, let me see.FabianWhat dish o’ poison has she dressed him!Sir Toby BelchAnd with what wing the staniel cheques at it!Malvolio“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,—Sir Toby BelchO, ay, make up that: he is now at a cold scent.FabianSowter will cry upon’t for all this, though it be as rank as a fox.MalvolioM,—Malvolio; M,—why, that begins my name.FabianDid not I say he would work it out? the cur is excellent at faults.MalvolioM,—but then there is no consonancy in the sequel; that suffers under probation A should follow but O does.FabianAnd O shall end, I hope.Sir Toby BelchAy, or I’ll cudgel him, and make him cry O!MalvolioAnd then I comes behind.FabianAy, an you had any eye behind you, you might see more detraction at your heels than fortunes before you.MalvolioM, 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.ReadsIf 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 ’em. Thy Fates open their hands; let thy blood and spirit embrace them; and, to inure thyself to what thou art like to be, cast thy humble slough and appear fresh. Be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants; let thy tongue tang 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 thee a steward still, the fellow of servants, and not worthy to touch Fortune’s fingers. Farewell.She that would alter services with thee,The Fortunate-Unhappy.‘Daylight and champaign 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-devise the very man. I do not now fool myself, to let imagination jade me; for every reason excites to this, that my lady loves me. 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. Jove and my stars be praised! Here is yet a postscript.ReadsThou 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.Jove, I thank thee: I will smile; I will do everything that thou wilt have me.ExitFabianI will not give my part of this sport for a pension of thousands to be paid from the Sophy.Sir Toby BelchI could marry this wench for this device.Sir AndrewSo could I too.Sir Toby BelchAnd ask no other dowry with her but such another jest.Sir AndrewNor I neither.FabianHere comes my noble gull-catcher.Re-enter MariaSir Toby BelchWilt thou set thy foot o’ my neck?Sir AndrewOr o’ mine either?Sir Toby BelchShall I play my freedom at traytrip, and become thy bond-slave?Sir AndrewI’ faith, or I either?Sir Toby BelchWhy, thou hast put him in such a dream, that when the image of it leaves him he must run mad.MariaNay, but say true; does it work upon him?Sir Toby BelchLike aqua-vitae with a midwife.MariaIf you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark his first approach before my lady: he will come to her in yellow stockings, and ’tis a colour 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. If you will see it, follow me.Sir Toby BelchTo the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit!Sir AndrewI’ll make one too.Exeunt
William Shakespeare: Twelfth Night, Act II
.com/t/lit/shakespeare-plays/twelfth-act2-5.html
Sources +
Our Common Sources
.com/t/lit/shakespeare-plays/twelfth-act2-5.html
Sources +
Our Common Sources
Our Common Sources
William Shakespeare: Twelfth Night, Act III, Scene IV
- William Shakespeare: Twelfth Night, Act III, Scene IV
TrendingHere are the facts and trivia that people are buzzing about.
Did Birds Evolve from Dinosaurs?
The Twelve Dancing Princesses
Current Events This Week: January 2023
African Americans by the Numbers
Andersen’s Fairy Tales: Contents
The Celtic Twilight: A Teller of Tales
TrendingHere are the facts and trivia that people are buzzing about.
Did Birds Evolve from Dinosaurs?
The Twelve Dancing Princesses
Current Events This Week: January 2023
African Americans by the Numbers
Andersen’s Fairy Tales: Contents
The Celtic Twilight: A Teller of Tales
- Did Birds Evolve from Dinosaurs?
- The Twelve Dancing Princesses
- Current Events This Week: January 2023
- African Americans by the Numbers
- Andersen’s Fairy Tales: Contents
- The Celtic Twilight: A Teller of Tales
