9.4: Act IV
Act IV, Scene 1
Before OLIVIA’s house.
[Enter SEBASTIAN and Clown]
Feste . Will you make me believe that I am not sent for you?
Sebastian
.
Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow:
Let me be clear of thee.
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Feste
.
Well held out, i’ faith! No, I do not know you; nor
I am not sent to you by my lady, to bid you come
speak with her; nor your name is not Master Cesario;
nor this is not my nose neither. Nothing that is so is so.
Sebastian
.
I prithee, vent thy folly somewhere else: Thou
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know’st not me.
Feste
.
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. I prithee now, ungird thy
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strangeness and tell me what I shall vent to my
lady: shall I vent to her that thou art coming?
Sebastian
.
I prithee, foolish Greek, depart from me: There’s
money for thee: if you tarry longer, I shall give
worse payment.
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Feste
.
By my troth, thou hast an open hand. These wise men
that give fools money get themselves a good
report—after fourteen years’ purchase.
[Enter SIR ANDREW, SIR TOBY BELCH, and FABIAN]
Sir Andrew Aguecheek
.
Now, sir, have I met you again? there’s for you.
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Sebastian
.
Why, there’s for thee, and there, and there. Are all
the people mad?
Sir Toby Belch . Hold, sir, or I’ll throw your dagger o’er the house.
Feste
.
This will I tell my lady straight: I would not be
in some of your coats for two pence.
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[Exit]
Sir Toby Belch . Come on, sir; hold.
Sir Andrew Aguecheek
.
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
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struck him first, yet it’s no matter for that.
Sebastian . Let go thy hand.
Sir Toby Belch
.
Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young
soldier, put up your iron: you are well fleshed; come on.
Sebastian
.
I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou now? If
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thou darest tempt me further, draw thy sword.
Sir Toby Belch
.
What, what? Nay, then I must have an ounce or two
of this malapert blood from you.
[Enter OLIVIA]
Olivia
.
Hold, Toby; on thy life I charge thee, hold!
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Sir Toby Belch . Madam!
Olivia
.
Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch,
Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves,
Where manners ne’er were preach’d! out of my sight!
Be not offended, dear Cesario.
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Rudesby, be gone!
[Exeunt SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN]
I prithee, gentle friend,
Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway
In this uncivil and thou unjust extent
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Against thy peace. Go with me to my house,
And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks
This ruffian hath botch’d up, that thou thereby
Mayst smile at this: thou shalt not choose but go:
Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me,
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He started one poor heart of mine in thee.
Sebastian
.
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!
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Olivia . Nay, come, I prithee; would thou’ldst be ruled by me!
Sebastian . Madam, I will.
Olivia . O, say so, and so be!
[Exeunt]
Act IV, Scene 2
OLIVIA’s house.
[Enter MARIA and Clown]
Maria
.
Nay, I prithee, put on this gown and this beard;
make him believe thou art Sir Topas the curate: do
it quickly; I’ll call Sir Toby the whilst.
[Exit]
Feste
.
Well, I’ll put it on, and I will dissemble myself
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in’t; and I would I were the first that ever
dissembled in such a gown. I am not tall enough to
become the function well, nor lean enough to be
thought a good student; but to be said an honest man
and a good housekeeper goes as fairly as to say a
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careful man and a great scholar. The competitors enter.
[Enter SIR TOBY BELCH and MARIA]
Sir Toby Belch . Jove bless thee, master Parson.
Feste
.
Bonos dies, Sir Toby: for, as the old hermit of
Prague, that never saw pen and ink, very wittily
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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’?
Sir Toby Belch . To him, Sir Topas.
Feste
.
What, ho, I say! peace in this prison!
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Sir Toby Belch . The knave counterfeits well; a good knave.
Malvolio . [Within] Who calls there?
Feste
.
Sir Topas the curate, who comes to visit Malvolio
the lunatic.
Malvolio
.
Sir Topas, Sir Topas, good Sir Topas, go to my lady.
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Feste
.
Out, hyperbolical fiend! how vexest thou this man!
talkest thou nothing but of ladies?
Sir Toby Belch . Well said, Master Parson.
Malvolio
.
Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged: good Sir
Topas, do not think I am mad: they have laid me
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here in hideous darkness.
Feste
.
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?
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Malvolio . As hell, Sir Topas.
Feste
.
Why it hath bay windows transparent as barricadoes,
and the clearstores toward the south north are as
lustrous as ebony; and yet complainest thou of
obstruction?
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Malvolio . I am not mad, Sir Topas: I say to you, this house is dark.
Feste
.
Madman, thou errest: I say, there is no darkness
but ignorance; in which thou art more puzzled than
the Egyptians in their fog.
Malvolio
.
I say, this house is as dark as ignorance, though
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ignorance were as dark as hell; and I say, there
was never man thus abused. I am no more mad than you
are: make the trial of it in any constant question.
Feste . What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild fowl?
Malvolio
.
That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird.
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Feste . What thinkest thou of his opinion?
Malvolio . I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his opinion.
Feste
.
Fare thee well. Remain thou still in darkness:
thou shalt hold the opinion of Pythagoras ere I will
allow of thy wits, and fear to kill a woodcock, lest
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thou dispossess the soul of thy grandam. Fare thee well.
Malvolio . Sir Topas, Sir Topas!
Sir Toby Belch . My most exquisite Sir Topas!
Feste . Nay, I am for all waters.
Maria
.
Thou mightst have done this without thy beard and
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gown: he sees thee not.
Sir Toby Belch
.
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 offence with
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my niece that I cannot pursue with any safety this
sport to the upshot. Come by and by to my chamber.
[Exeunt SIR TOBY BELCH and MARIA]
Feste
.
[Singing]
‘Hey, Robin, jolly Robin,
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Tell me how thy lady does.’
Malvolio . Fool!
Feste . ‘My lady is unkind, perdy.’
Malvolio . Fool!
Feste
.
‘Alas, why is she so?’
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Malvolio . Fool, I say!
Feste . ‘She loves another’—Who calls, ha?
Malvolio
.
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
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thee for’t.
Feste . Master Malvolio?
Malvolio . Ay, good fool.
Feste . Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits?
Malvolio
.
Fool, there was never a man so notoriously abused: I
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am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art.
Feste
.
But as well? then you are mad indeed, if you be no
better in your wits than a fool.
Malvolio
.
They have here propertied me; keep me in darkness,
send ministers to me, asses, and do all they can to
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face me out of my wits.
Feste
.
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.
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Malvolio . Sir Topas!
Feste
.
Maintain no words with him, good fellow. Who, I,
sir? not I, sir. God be wi’ you, good Sir Topas.
Merry, amen. I will, sir, I will.
Malvolio
.
Fool, fool, fool, I say!
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Feste
.
Alas, sir, be patient. What say you sir? I am
shent for speaking to you.
Malvolio
.
Good fool, help me to some light and some paper: I
tell thee, I am as well in my wits as any man in Illyria.
Feste
.
Well-a-day that you were, sir
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Malvolio
.
By this hand, I am. Good fool, some ink, paper and
light; and convey what I will set down to my lady:
it shall advantage thee more than ever the bearing
of letter did.
Feste
.
I will help you to’t. But tell me true, are you
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not mad indeed? or do you but counterfeit?
Malvolio . Believe me, I am not; I tell thee true.
Feste
.
Nay, I’ll ne’er believe a madman till I see his
brains. I will fetch you light and paper and ink.
Malvolio
.
Fool, I’ll requite it in the highest degree: I
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prithee, be gone.
Feste
.
[Singing]
I am gone, sir,
And anon, sir,
I’ll be with you again,
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In a trice,
Like to the old Vice,
Your need to sustain;
Who, with dagger of lath,
In his rage and his wrath,
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Cries, ah, ha! to the devil:
Like a mad lad,
Pare thy nails, dad;
Adieu, good man devil.
[Exit]
Act IV, Scene 3
OLIVIA’s garden.
[Enter SEBASTIAN]
Sebastian
.
This is the air; that is the glorious sun;
This pearl she gave me, I do feel’t and see’t;
And though ’tis wonder that enwraps me thus,
Yet ’tis not madness. Where’s Antonio, then?
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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,
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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
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To any other trust but that I am mad
Or else the lady’s mad; yet, if ’twere so,
She could not sway her house, command her followers,
Take and give back affairs and their dispatch
With such a smooth, discreet and stable bearing
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As I perceive she does: there’s something in’t
That is deceiveable. But here the lady comes.
[Enter OLIVIA and Priest]
Olivia
.
Blame not this haste of mine. If you mean well,
Now go with me and with this holy man
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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
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Whiles you are willing it shall come to note,
What time we will our celebration keep
According to my birth. What do you say?
Sebastian
.
I’ll follow this good man, and go with you;
And, having sworn truth, ever will be true.
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Olivia
.
Then lead the way, good father; and heavens so shine,
That they may fairly note this act of mine!
[Exeunt]
- Twelfth Night, Or What You Will. Authored by : William Shakespeare. Located at : http://www.opensourceshakespeare.org/views/plays/playmenu.php?WorkID=12night . License : Public Domain: No Known Copyright
- Image of Viola and the Countess. Authored by : Frederick Richard Pickersgill. Located at : https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Viola_and_the_Countess_-_Frederick_Richard_Pickersgill.jpg . License : CC BY: Attribution