Twelfth Night Scenes
Illyria, A street adjoining Olivia’s house.
(Sebastian; Clown; Andrew; Toby; Fabian; Olivia)
Feste, believing him to be “Cesario”, is following Sebastian around, insisting that he has been sent to fetch the young man. Sebastian is quite confused, and thinking the jester a beggar, tries to pay him to go away. Just then Andrew comes in and hits Sebastian. Unfortunately for him, Sebastian is not the type to take this lying down, and beats him right back, and much worse. Toby tries to restrain him, and they end up drawing swords on each other while Feste runs to fetch Olivia. The Countess arrives and dismisses Toby from her sight in a rage before meltingly inviting “Cesario” in to hear her tell all of the other fooleries that Toby has made himself guilty of over the years. Sebastian thinks he must be dreaming to have such a beautiful woman invite him in, but he is quite willing to do so. ( line)
Enter Sebastian and Clown.
Will you make me believe that I am not sent for you?
Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow,
Let me be clear of thee.
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.
I prithee vent thy folly somewhere else,
Thou know’st not me.
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 strangeness, and tell me what I shall vent to my lady. Shall I vent to her that thou art coming?
I prithee, foolish Greek, depart from me.
There’s money for thee. If you tarry longer,
I shall give worse payment.
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 Andrew, Toby, and Fabian.
Now, sir, have I met you again? There’s for you.
Why, there’s for thee, and there, and there.
Strikes Sir Andrew.
Are all the people mad?
Draws his dagger.
Hold, sir, or I’ll throw your dagger o’er the house.
Seizes Sebastian’s arm.
This will I tell my lady straight; I would not be in some of your coats for twopence.
Come on, sir, hold!
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 strook him first, yet it’s no matter for that.
Let go thy hand.
Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier, put up your iron; you are well flesh’d. Come on.
I will be free from thee.
Breaks away and draws his sword.
What wouldst thou now?
If thou dar’st tempt me further, draw thy sword.
What, what? Nay then I must have an ounce or two of this malapert blood from you.
Hold, Toby, on thy life I charge thee hold!
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.
Rudesby, be gone!
Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian.
I prithee, gentle friend,
Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway
In this uncivil and unjust extent
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,
He started one poor heart of mine, in thee.
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!
Nay, come, I prithee. Would thou’dst be rul’d by me!
Madam, I will.
O, say so, and so be!