SCENE I. Before OLIVIA's house. Twelfth Night  Shakespeare homepage  |  Twelfth Night  | Act 5, Scene 1 

 Previous scene  SCENE I. Before OLIVIA's house. 

 Enter Clown and FABIAN  FABIAN  Now, as thou lovest me, let me see his letter. 

 Clown  Good Master Fabian, grant me another request. 

 FABIAN  Any thing. 

 Clown  Do not desire to see this letter. 

 FABIAN  This is, to give a dog, and in recompense desire my 

 dog again. 



 Enter DUKE ORSINO, VIOLA, CURIO, and Lords  DUKE ORSINO  Belong you to the Lady Olivia, friends? 

 Clown  Ay, sir; we are some of her trappings. 

 DUKE ORSINO  I know thee well; how dost thou, my good fellow? 

 Clown  Truly, sir, the better for my foes and the worse 

 for my friends. 

 DUKE ORSINO  Just the contrary; the better for thy friends. 

 Clown  No, sir, the worse. 

 DUKE ORSINO  How can that be? 

 Clown  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: so that, 

 conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives 

 make your two affirmatives why then, the worse for 

 my friends and the better for my foes. 

 DUKE ORSINO  Why, this is excellent. 

 Clown  By my troth, sir, no; though it please you to be 

 one of my friends. 

 DUKE ORSINO  Thou shalt not be the worse for me: there's gold. 

 Clown  But that it would be double-dealing, sir, I would 

 you could make it another. 

 DUKE ORSINO  O, you give me ill counsel. 

 Clown  Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this once, 

 and let your flesh and blood obey it. 

 DUKE ORSINO  Well, I will be so much a sinner, to be a 

 double-dealer: there's another. 

 Clown  Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play; and the old 

 saying is, the third pays for all: the triplex, 

 sir, is a good tripping measure; or the bells of 

 Saint Bennet, sir, may put you in mind; one, two, three. 

 DUKE ORSINO  You can fool no more money out of me at this throw: 

 if you will let your lady know I am here to speak 

 with her, and bring her along with you, it may awake 

 my bounty further. 

 Clown  Marry, sir, lullaby to your bounty till I come 

 again. I go, sir; but I would not have you to think 

 that my desire of having is the sin of covetousness: 

 but, as you say, sir, let your bounty take a nap, I 

 will awake it anon. 



 Exit  VIOLA  Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me. 



 Enter ANTONIO and Officers  DUKE ORSINO  That face of his I do remember well; 

 Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmear'd 

 As black as Vulcan in the smoke of war: 

 A bawbling vessel was he captain of, 

 For shallow draught and bulk unprizable; 

 With which such scathful grapple did he make 

 With the most noble bottom of our fleet, 

 That very envy and the tongue of loss 

 Cried fame and honour on him. What's the matter? 

 First Officer  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. 

 VIOLA  He did me kindness, sir, drew on my side; 

 But in conclusion put strange speech upon me: 

 I know not what 'twas but distraction. 

 DUKE ORSINO  Notable pirate! thou salt-water thief! 

 What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies, 

 Whom thou, in terms so bloody and so dear, 

 Hast made thine enemies? 

 ANTONIO  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 wreck 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. 

 VIOLA  How can this be? 

 DUKE ORSINO  When came he to this town? 

 ANTONIO  To-day, my lord; and for three months before, 

 No interim, not a minute's vacancy, 

 Both day and night did we keep company. 



 Enter OLIVIA and Attendants  DUKE ORSINO  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. 

 OLIVIA  What would my lord, but that he may not have, 

 Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable? 

 Cesario, you do not keep promise with me. 

 VIOLA  Madam! 

 DUKE ORSINO  Gracious Olivia,-- 

 OLIVIA  What do you say, Cesario? Good my lord,-- 

 VIOLA  My lord would speak; my duty hushes me. 

 OLIVIA  If it be aught to the old tune, my lord, 

 It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear 

 As howling after music. 

 DUKE ORSINO  Still so cruel? 

 OLIVIA  Still so constant, lord. 

 DUKE ORSINO  What, to perverseness? you uncivil lady, 

 To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars 

 My soul the faithfull'st offerings hath breathed out 

 That e'er devotion tender'd! What shall I do? 

 OLIVIA  Even what it please my lord, that shall become him. 

 DUKE ORSINO  Why should I not, had I the heart to do it, 

 Like to the Egyptian thief at point of death, 

 Kill what I love?--a savage jealousy 

 That sometimes savours nobly. But hear me this: 

 Since you to non-regardance cast my faith, 

 And that I partly know the instrument 

 That screws me from my true place in your favour, 

 Live 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. 

 VIOLA  And I, most jocund, apt and willingly, 

 To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die. 

 OLIVIA  Where goes Cesario? 

 VIOLA  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! 

 OLIVIA  Ay me, detested! how am I beguiled! 

 VIOLA  Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong? 

 OLIVIA  Hast thou forgot thyself? is it so long? 

 Call forth the holy father. 

 DUKE ORSINO  Come, away! 

 OLIVIA  Whither, my lord? Cesario, husband, stay. 

 DUKE ORSINO  Husband! 

 OLIVIA  Ay, husband: can he that deny? 

 DUKE ORSINO  Her husband, sirrah! 

 VIOLA  No, my lord, not I. 

 OLIVIA  Alas, it is the baseness of thy fear 

 That makes thee strangle thy propriety: 

 Fear not, Cesario; take thy fortunes up; 

 Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art 

 As great as that thou fear'st. 



 Enter Priest  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 'tis ripe, what thou dost know 

 Hath newly pass'd between this youth and me. 

 Priest  A contract of eternal bond of love, 

 Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands, 

 Attested by the holy close of lips, 

 Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings; 

 And all the ceremony of this compact 

 Seal'd in my function, by my testimony: 

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

 I have travell'd but two hours. 

 DUKE ORSINO  O thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be 

 When time hath sow'd 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. 

 VIOLA  My lord, I do protest-- 

 OLIVIA  O, do not swear! 

 Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear. 



 Enter SIR ANDREW  SIR ANDREW  For the love of God, a surgeon! Send one presently 

 to Sir Toby. 

 OLIVIA  What's the matter? 

 SIR ANDREW  He has broke my head across and has given Sir Toby 

 a bloody coxcomb too: for the love of God, your 

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

 OLIVIA  Who has done this, Sir Andrew? 

 SIR ANDREW  The count's gentleman, one Cesario: we took him for 

 a coward, but he's the very devil incardinate. 

 DUKE ORSINO  My gentleman, Cesario? 

 SIR ANDREW  'Od's lifelings, here he is! You broke my head for 

 nothing; and that that I did, I was set on to do't 

 by Sir Toby. 

 VIOLA  Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you: 

 You drew your sword upon me without cause; 

 But I bespoke you fair, and hurt you not. 

 SIR ANDREW  If a bloody coxcomb be a hurt, you have hurt me: I 

 think you set nothing by a bloody coxcomb. 



 Enter SIR TOBY BELCH and Clown  Here comes Sir Toby halting; you shall hear more: 

 but if he had not been in drink, he would have 

 tickled you othergates than he did. 

 DUKE ORSINO  How now, gentleman! how is't with you? 

 SIR TOBY BELCH  That's all one: has hurt me, and there's the end 

 on't. Sot, didst see Dick surgeon, sot? 

 Clown  O, he's drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyes 

 were set at eight i' the morning. 

 SIR TOBY BELCH  Then he's a rogue, and a passy measures panyn: I 

 hate a drunken rogue. 

 OLIVIA  Away with him! Who hath made this havoc with them? 

 SIR ANDREW  I'll help you, Sir Toby, because well be dressed together. 

 SIR TOBY BELCH  Will you help? an ass-head and a coxcomb and a 

 knave, a thin-faced knave, a gull! 

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



 Exeunt Clown, FABIAN, SIR TOBY BELCH, and SIR ANDREW 

 Enter SEBASTIAN  SEBASTIAN  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. 

 DUKE ORSINO  One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons, 

 A natural perspective, that is and is not! 

 SEBASTIAN  Antonio, O my dear Antonio! 

 How have the hours rack'd and tortured me, 

 Since I have lost thee! 

 ANTONIO  Sebastian are you? 

 SEBASTIAN  Fear'st thou that, Antonio? 

 ANTONIO  How have you made division of yourself? 

 An apple, cleft in two, is not more twin 

 Than these two creatures. Which is Sebastian? 

 OLIVIA  Most wonderful! 

 SEBASTIAN  Do I stand there? I never had a brother; 

 Nor can there be that deity in my nature, 

 Of here and every where. I had a sister, 

 Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd. 

 Of charity, what kin are you to me? 

 What countryman? what name? what parentage? 

 VIOLA  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. 

 SEBASTIAN  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!' 

 VIOLA  My father had a mole upon his brow. 

 SEBASTIAN  And so had mine. 

 VIOLA  And died that day when Viola from her birth 

 Had number'd thirteen years. 

 SEBASTIAN  O, that record is lively in my soul! 

 He finished indeed his mortal act 

 That day that made my sister thirteen years. 

 VIOLA  If nothing lets to make us happy both 

 But this my masculine usurp'd 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. 

 SEBASTIAN  [To OLIVIA]  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 betroth'd both to a maid and man. 

 DUKE ORSINO  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 wreck. 



 To VIOLA  Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times 

 Thou never shouldst love woman like to me. 

 VIOLA  And all those sayings will I overswear; 

 And those swearings keep as true in soul 

 As doth that orbed continent the fire 

 That severs day from night. 

 DUKE ORSINO  Give me thy hand; 

 And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds. 

 VIOLA  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. 

 OLIVIA  He shall enlarge him: fetch Malvolio hither: 

 And yet, alas, now I remember me, 

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



 Re-enter Clown with a letter, and FABIAN  A most extracting frenzy of mine own 

 From my remembrance clearly banish'd his. 

 How does he, sirrah? 

 Clown  Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the staves's end as 

 well as a man in his case may do: has here writ a 

 letter to you; I should have given't you to-day 

 morning, but as a madman's epistles are no gospels, 

 so it skills not much when they are delivered. 

 OLIVIA  Open't, and read it. 

 Clown  Look then to be well edified when the fool delivers 

 the madman. 



 Reads  'By the Lord, madam,'-- 

 OLIVIA  How now! art thou mad? 

 Clown  No, madam, I do but read madness: an your ladyship 

 will have it as it ought to be, you must allow Vox. 

 OLIVIA  Prithee, read i' thy right wits. 

 Clown  So I do, madonna; but to read his right wits is to 

 read thus: therefore perpend, my princess, and give ear. 

 OLIVIA  Read it you, sirrah. 



 To FABIAN  FABIAN  [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.' 

 OLIVIA  Did he write this? 

 Clown  Ay, madam. 

 DUKE ORSINO  This savours not much of distraction. 

 OLIVIA  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 and at my proper cost. 

 DUKE ORSINO  Madam, I am most apt to embrace your offer. 



 To VIOLA  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 call'd me master for so long, 

 Here is my hand: you shall from this time be 

 Your master's mistress. 

 OLIVIA  A sister! you are she. 



 Re-enter FABIAN, with MALVOLIO  DUKE ORSINO  Is this the madman? 

 OLIVIA  Ay, my lord, this same. 

 How now, Malvolio! 

 MALVOLIO  Madam, you have done me wrong, 

 Notorious wrong. 

 OLIVIA  Have I, Malvolio? no. 

 MALVOLIO  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 'tis not your seal, nor your invention: 

 You can say none of this: well, grant it then 

 And tell me, in the modesty of honour, 

 Why you have given me such clear lights of favour, 

 Bade me come smiling and cross-garter'd 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 suffer'd me to be imprison'd, 

 Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest, 

 And made the most notorious geck and gull 

 That e'er invention play'd on? tell me why. 

 OLIVIA  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 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 practise 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 judge 

 Of thine own cause. 

 FABIAN  Good madam, hear me speak, 

 And let no quarrel nor no brawl to come 

 Taint the condition of this present hour, 

 Which I have wonder'd 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 follow'd, 

 May rather pluck on laughter than revenge; 

 If that the injuries be justly weigh'd 

 That have on both sides pass'd. 

 OLIVIA  Alas, poor fool, how have they baffled thee! 

 Clown  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. 

 MALVOLIO  I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you. 



 Exit  OLIVIA  He hath been most notoriously abused. 

 DUKE ORSINO  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. Meantime, 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. 



 Exeunt all, except Clown  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,  & c. 

 'Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate, 

 For the rain,  & c. 

 But when I came, alas! to wive, 

 With hey, ho,  & c. 

 By swaggering could I never thrive, 

 For the rain,  & c. 

 But when I came unto my beds, 

 With hey, ho,  & c. 

 With toss-pots still had drunken heads, 

 For the rain,  & c. 

 A great while ago the world begun, 

 With hey, ho,  & c. 

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

 And we'll strive to please you every day. 



 Exit 