ACT 1
Scene 2
...canopied with bowers.
Enter Viola, a Captain, and Sailors.
What country, friends, is this?
...is Illyria, lady.
And what should I do in Illyria?
My brother he is in Elysium.
Perchance he is not drowned.—What think you, sailors?
...yourself were saved.
O, my poor brother! And so perchance may he be.
...I could see.
giving him money
For saying so, there’s gold.
Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,
Whereto thy speech serves for authority,
The like of him. Know’st thou this country?
...this very place.
Who governs here?
...as in name.
What is his name?
... Orsino.
Orsino. I have heard my father name him.
He was a bachelor then.
...of fair Olivia.
What’s she?
...company 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.
...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.
...eyes not see.
I thank thee. Lead me on.
They exit.
Scene 4
...Ha, ha, excellent!
Enter Valentine, and Viola in man’s attire as Cesario.
...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.
Enter Orsino, Curio, and Attendants.
Here comes the Count.
...saw Cesario, ho?
On your attendance, my lord, here.
...thou have audience.
Sure, my noble lord,
If she be so abandoned to her sorrow
As it is spoke, she never will admit me.
...make unprofited return.
Say I do speak with her, my lord, what then?
...more grave aspect.
I think not so, my lord.
...his fortunes thine.
I’ll do my best
To woo your lady. Aside.
Yet a barful strife!
Whoe’er I woo, myself would be his wife.
They exit.
Scene 5
...hear Orsino’s embassy.
Enter Viola.
The honorable lady of the house, which is she?
...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 would 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.
...came you, sir?
I can say little more than I have studied, and
that question’s out of my part. Good gentle one,
give me modest assurance if you be the lady of the
house, that I may proceed in my speech.
...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?
...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.
...you the praise.
Alas, I took great pains to study it, and ’tis
poetical.
...lies your way.
No, good swabber, I am to hull here a little
longer.—Some mollification for your giant, sweet
lady.
...me your mind.
I am a messenger.
...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.
...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 other’s, profanation.
...is your text?
Most sweet lady—
...lies your text?
In Orsino’s bosom.
...of his bosom?
To answer by the method, in the first of his heart.
...more to say?
Good madam, let me see your face.
...not well done?
Excellently done, if God did all.
...wind and weather.
’Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white
Nature’s own sweet and cunning hand laid on.
Lady, you are the cruel’st she alive
If you will lead these graces to the grave
And leave the world no copy.
...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.
...he love me?
With adorations, fertile tears,
With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.
...answer long ago.
If I did love you in my master’s flame,
With such a suff’ring, such a deadly life,
In your denial I would find no sense.
I would not understand it.
...what would you?
Make me a willow cabin at your gate
And call upon my soul within the house,
Write loyal cantons of contemnèd 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.
...is your parentage?
Above my fortunes, yet my state is well.
I am a gentleman.
...She offers money.
I am no fee’d post, lady. Keep your purse.
My master, not myself, lacks recompense.
Love make his heart of flint that you shall love,
And let your fervor, like my master’s, be
Placed in contempt. Farewell, fair cruelty.
She exits.
ACT 2
Scene 2
...I will go.
Enter Viola and Malvolio, at several doors.
...the Countess Olivia?
Even now, sir. On a moderate pace I have since
arrived but hither.
...Receive it so.
She took the ring of me. I’ll none of it.
...that finds it.
I left no ring with her. What means this lady? She picks up the ring.
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 ’tis,
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 of, 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 t’ untie.
She exits.
Scene 4
...knight; come, knight.
Enter Orsino, Viola, Curio, and others.
...like this tune?
It gives a very echo to the seat
Where love is throned.
...it not, boy?
A little, by your favor.
...woman is ’t?
Of your complexion.
...years, i’ faith?
About your years, my lord.
...Than women’s are.
I think it well, my lord.
...that very hour.
And so they are. Alas, that they are so,
To die even when they to perfection grow!
...attracts my soul.
But if she cannot love you, sir—
...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?
...I owe Olivia.
Ay, but I know—
...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.
...what’s her history?
A blank, my lord. She never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm i’ th’ 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.
...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?
...bide no denay.
He hands her a jewel and they exit.
ACT 3
Scene 1
...make one, too.
Enter Viola and Feste, the Fool, playing a tabor.
Save thee, friend, and thy music. Dost thou live
by thy tabor?
...by the church.
Art thou a churchman?
...by the church.
So thou mayst say the king lies by a beggar if a
beggar dwell near him, or the church stands by thy
tabor if thy tabor stand by the church.
...be turned outward!
Nay, that’s certain. They that dally nicely with
words may quickly make them wanton.
...no name, sir.
Why, man?
...bonds disgraced them.
Thy reason, man?
...reason with them.
I warrant thou art a merry fellow and car’st for
nothing.
...make you invisible.
Art not thou the Lady Olivia’s Fool?
...corrupter of words.
I saw thee late at the Count Orsino’s.
...your Wisdom there.
Nay, an thou pass upon me, I’ll no more with
thee. Hold, there’s expenses for thee. Giving a coin.
...thee a beard!
By my troth I’ll tell thee, I am almost sick for
one, aside
though I would not have it grow on my
chin.—Is thy lady within?
...have bred, sir?
Yes, being kept together and put to use.
...to this Troilus.
I understand you, sir. ’Tis well begged. Giving another coin.
...word is overworn.
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-fall’n, quite taint their wit.
...Save you, gentleman.
And you, sir.
...vous garde, monsieur.
Et vous aussi. Votre serviteur!
...be to her.
I am bound to your niece, sir; I mean, she is the
list of my voyage.
...them to motion.
My legs do better understand me, sir, than I
understand what you mean by bidding me taste my
legs.
...sir, to enter.
I will answer you with gait and entrance—but
we are prevented.
Enter Olivia, and Maria, her Gentlewoman.
Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain
odors on you!
...“Rain odors,” well.
My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your own
most pregnant and vouchsafed ear.
...your hand, sir.
My duty, madam, and most humble service.
...is your name?
Cesario is your servant’s name, fair princess.
...Count Orsino, youth.
And he is yours, and his must needs be yours.
Your servant’s servant is your servant, madam.
...filled with me.
Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts
On his behalf.
...from the spheres.
Dear lady—
...hear you speak.
I pity you.
...degree to love.
No, not a grize, for ’tis a vulgar proof
That very oft we pity enemies.
...way, due west.
Then westward ho!
Grace and good disposition attend your Ladyship.
You’ll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?
...think’st of me.
That you do think you are not what you are.
...same of you.
Then think you right. I am not what I am.
...have you be.
Would it be better, madam, than I am?
I wish it might, for now I am your fool.
...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. Nevermore
Will I my master’s tears to you deplore.
...like his love.
They exit in different directions.
Scene 4
...look, like cockatrices.
Enter Olivia and Viola.
...but mocks reproof.
With the same ’havior that your passion bears
Goes on my master’s griefs.
...upon asking give?
Nothing but this: your true love for my master.
...given to you?
I will acquit you.
...God save thee.
And you, sir.
...skillful, and deadly.
You 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.
...furnish man withal.
I pray you, sir, what is he?
...or take ’t.”
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.
...iron about you.
This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you, do
me 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.
...till my return.
Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter?
...the circumstance more.
I beseech you, what manner of man is he?
...if I can.
I shall be much bound to you for ’t. I am one
that had rather go with Sir Priest than Sir Knight, I
care not who knows so much of my mettle.
They exit.
...I ride you.
Enter Fabian and Viola.
...not hurt you.
Pray God defend me! Aside.
A little thing
would make me tell them how much I lack of a
man.
...keep his oath!
drawing her sword
I do assure you ’tis against my will.
...with you anon.
to Andrew
Pray, sir, put your sword up, if
you please.
...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, there’s half my coffer.
Offering him money.
...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—
...Lead me on.
aside
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!
...Andrew move aside.
aside
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!
She exits.
ACT 5
Scene 1
...my dog again.
Enter Orsino, Viola, Curio, and Lords.
...Antonio and Officers.
Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me.
...we apprehend him.
He did me kindness, sir, drew on my side,
But in conclusion put strange speech upon me.
I know not what ’twas but distraction.
...an hour before.
How can this be?
...promise with me.
Madam?
...Cesario?—Good my lord—
My lord would speak; my duty hushes me.
...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.
...am I beguiled!
Who does beguile you? Who does do you wrong?
...Her husband, sirrah?
No, my lord, not I.
...may never meet.
My lord, I do protest—
...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.
...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 suit,
You come to fright us.
...welcome, drownèd Viola.”
My father had a mole upon his brow.
...so had mine.
And died that day when Viola from her birth
Had numbered thirteen years.
...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.
...like to me.
And all those sayings will I overswear,
And all those swearings keep as true in soul
As doth that orbèd continent the fire
That severs day from night.
...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.
...his fancy’s queen.
All but the Fool exit.