Great Buys on the Following Items at

Cameras     Cell Phones and Accessories      Computers      Digital Music      Game Downloads       Jewelry
Kindle E-Readers      Musical Instruments       Men's Clothes       Women's Clothes       Handbags and Shoes

Twelfth Night, or What You Will

The Complete Text With Definitions of Difficult Words
And Explanations of Difficult Passages

Edited by Michael J. Cummings

Home Page: Shakespeare Index      Twelfth Night Study Guide

Complete Annotated Text


The following version of Twelfth Night, or What You Will is based on the text in the authoritative 1914 Oxford Edition of Shakespeare's works, edited by W. J. Craig. The text numbers the lines, including those with stage directions such as "Enter" and "Exit." Annotations (notes and definitions) appear in boldfaced type within the text.


Orsino: Duke of Illyria, who is also referred to as a count. He thinks he is in love with his neighbor, Olivia, but has trouble gaining her attention. His so-called love for her is fickle and frivolous, however. Later, he realizes that he loves Viola, who has been working as a page for him in the disguise of a male.
Viola: Shipwreck survivor who disguises herself as a male to get work as a page to Duke Orsino. She calls herself Cesario. Viola is the main character, or protagonist. She is smart, resourceful, kind, and loving.
Olivia: Neighbor of Duke Orsino who ignores his proposals of marriage and who continues to mourn the death of a brother long after he goes to his grave. However, she becomes enamored of the disguised Viola, thinking he is a man, and begins to emerge from her shell of sadness and sorrow.
Sebastian: Twin brother of Viola who also survives the shipwreck, although Viola thinks he has drowned.
Valentine, Curio: Gentlemen attending Duke Orsino.
Sir Toby Belch: Merrymaking uncle of Olivia.
Sir Andrew Aguecheek: Bumbling knight who hopes to marry Olivia.
Malvolio: Pompous steward of Olivia who is led to believe that she loves him. He wears yellow stockings to impress her.
Feste: Fool (jester) and servant of Olivia. He is highly intelligent and given to clever wordplay that often centers on the folly of human beings.
Fabian: Servant of Olivia.
Maria: Olivia's handmaiden and author of a letter that ensnares Malvolio in a prank that pokes fun at his haughty demeanor.
Antonio: Sea captain and friend of Sebastian.
Another Sea Captain: Friend of Viola.
Minor Characters: Lords, priests, sailors, officers, musicians, attendants.

Complete Annotated Text

Act 1, Scene 1: A room in the duke's palace.
Act 1, Scene 2: The sea coast.
Act 1, Scene 3: A room in Olivia's house.
Act 1, Scene 4: A room in the duke's palace.
Act 1, Scene 5: A room in Olivia's house.

Act 2, Scene 1: The seacoast.
Act 2, Scene 2: A street.
Act 2, Scene 3: A room in Olivia's house.
Act 2, Scene 4: A room in the duke's palace.
Act 2, Scene 5: Olivia's garden.

Act 3, Scene 1: Olivia's garden.
Act 3, Scene 2: A room in Olivia's house.
Act 3, Scene 3: A street.
Act 3, Scene 4: Olivia's garden.

Act 4, Scene 1: The street adjoining Olivia's house.
Act 4, Scene 2: A room in Olivia's house.
Act 4, Scene 3: Olivia's garden.

Act 5, Scene 1: The street before Olivia's house.

Act 1, Scene 1

A room in the duke's palace.
Enter DUKE, CURIO, lords; musicians attending.
DUKE:  If music be the food of love, play on;    
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting [filling up with it],    
The appetite may sicken, and so die.            5
That strain [melody; tune] again! it had a dying fall [sorrowful effect]:    
O! it came o’er [over] my ear like the sweet sound [of wind]    
That breathes upon a bank of violets,    
Stealing and giving odour. Enough! no more:    
[Stealing . . . odour: Stealing the odor and giving it to me]
’Tis not so sweet now as it was before.            10
O spirit of love! how quick and fresh art thou,    
That, notwithstanding thy capacity    
Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,    
Of what validity and pitch soe’er,    
But falls into abatement and low price,            15
[how quick . . . price: How quick love is to ensnare us. But, even though its capacity is as wide and deep as the sea, no one—not matter how high and mighty—can fall into it without feeling low and base.]
Even in a minute: so full of shapes is fancy,    
That it alone is high fantastical.    
[Even . . . fantastical: In only a minute, we are enthralled by its fantastic powers.]
CURIO:  Will you go hunt, my lord?    
DUKE:  What, Curio?    
CURIO:  The hart [male deer].            20
DUKE:  Why, so I do, the noblest that I have.    
O! when mine eyes did see Olivia first,    
Methought she purg’d the air of pestilence.    
That instant was I turn’d into a hart,    
And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,            25
E’er since pursue me.    
How now! what news from her?    
Val.  So please my lord, I might not be admitted [I was not admitted to her presence];    
But from her handmaid do return this answer:            30
The element itself, till seven years’ heat,    
Shall not behold her face at ample view;
[The element . . . view: She will not go outside for seven years.]    
But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk,    
And water once a day her chamber round    
With eve-offending brine: all this, to season            35
A brother’s dead love, which she would keep fresh    
And lasting in her sad remembrance.
[But . . . remembrance: But even then she will wear a veil as she walks, like a nun, and she will weep in tears of sorrow all around her chamber once a day to keep the sad memory of her dead brother alive.]    
DUKE:  O! she that hath a heart of that fine frame    
To pay this debt of love but to a brother,    
How will she love, when the rich golden shaft            40
Hath kill’d the flock of all affections else
[golden shaft: Allusion to the arrow shot by Cupid, the god of love, to smite a young man or woman with romantic love]    
That live in her; when liver, brain, and heart,    
These sovereign thrones [organs], are all supplied, and fill’d    
Her sweet perfections with one self king.
[and fill'd . . . king: And filled with love for one king to rule her sweet perfections]    
Away before me to sweet beds of flowers;            45
Love-thoughts lie rich when canopied with bowers.  [Exeunt.
[Away  . . . bowers: Let my thoughts of love go with me to sweet beds of flowers that will enhance my feelings for Olivia.]
[Exeunt: Everyone leaves the stage.]

Act 1, Scene 2

The seacoast.
Enter VIOLA, Captain, and Sailors.

VIOLA:  What country, friends, is this?    
CAPTAIN:  This is Illyria, lady.    
[Illyria: Region separated from the eastern shore of Italy by the Adriatic Sea.]
VIOLA:  And what should I do in Illyria?            5
My brother he is in Elysium [My dead brother is in paradise].    
Perchance he is not drown’d: what think you sailors?    
CAPTAIN:  It is perchance [by chance; luck] that you yourself were sav’d.    
VIOLA:  O my poor brother! and so perchance may he be.    
CAPTAIN:  True, madam: and, to comfort you with chance,            10
Assure yourself, after our ship did split,    
When you and those poor number sav’d with you    
Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother,    
Most provident in peril, bind himself,—    
Courage and hope both teaching him the practice,—            15
To a strong mast that liv’d upon the sea;    
Where, like Arion on the dolphin’s back,    
I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves    
So long as I could see.    
[Arion on the dolphin's back: While at sea, according to a legend, the ancient Greek poet Arion escaped from pirates by riding on the back of a dolphin.]
VIOLA:  For saying so there’s gold.            20
Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,    
Whereto thy speech serves for authority,    
The like of him. Know’st thou this country?    
[Mine own . . . country: My own escape gives me hope for my brother. Your encouraging words bolster my hope. Are you familiar with this country?.]
CAPTAIN:  Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and born    
Not three hours’ travel from this very place.            25
VIOLA:  Who governs here?    
CAPTAIN:  A noble duke, in nature as in name.    
VIOLA:  What is his name?    
CAPTAIN:  Orsino.    
VIOLA:  Orsino! I have heard my father name him:            30
He was a bachelor then.    
CAPTAIN:  And so is now, or was so very late [or was the last time I heard about him];    
For but a month ago I went from hence,    
And then ’twas fresh in murmur,—as, you know,    
What great ones do the less will prattle of,—            35
[I went from . . . prattle of: I went to sea from here, and there was a fresh rumor—as you know, what the great noblemen do is a subject for common people to gossip about—]
That he did seek the love of fair Olivia.    
VIOLA:  What’s she?    
CAPTAIN:  A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count    
That died some twelvemonth since; then leaving her    
In the protection of his son, her brother,            40
Who shortly also died: for whose dear love,    
They say she hath abjur’d [renounced] the company    
And sight of men.    
VIOLA:  O! that I serv’d that lady,    
And might not be deliver’d to the world,            45
Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,    
What my estate is.
[O! that . . . estate is: O! I would like to be a servant of that lady, out of sight of the world, till the time is right for me to decide what to do next.]    
CAPTAIN:  That were hard to compass,    
Because she will admit no kind of suit,    
No, not the duke’s.            50
[That were . . . duke's: That would be hard to do, since she will admit no one into her company—not even the duke.]
VIOLA:  There is a fair behaviour 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.            55
[There is . . . character: You are an upright man, captain. A lot of people look friendly and honest on the outside, but inside they are just the opposite. I believe your character is just as good inside as it is on the outside.]
I prithee,—and I’ll pay thee bountously,—    
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 a eunuch to him:            60
[I prithee . . . to him: I pray thee, captain—and I'll pay you well if you do what I ask—disguise me as a boy singer and introduce me to the duke.]
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 [that will make me very valuable to him].    
What else may hap to time I will commit;    
Only shape thou thy silence to my wit.            65
[What else . . . wit: Whatever else he wants me to do I'll undertake. But please be quiet about who I really am.]
CAPTAIN:  Be you his eunuch, and your mute I’ll be:    
When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see.    
VIOLA:  I thank thee: lead me on.  [Exeunt.
[Exeunt: Everone leaves the stage.]

Act 1, Scene 3

A room in Olivia's house.
SIR TOBY:  What a plague means my niece, to take the death of her brother thus? I am sure care’s an enemy to life.    
[What a plague . . . life: What a bother it is for my niece to take the death of her brother so hard. I am sure the care she's showing is an enemy to life.]
MARIA:  By my troth [truly], Sir Toby, you must come in earlier o’ nights [at night]: your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions to your ill hours.    
SIR TOBY:  Why, let her except before excepted.
[Why . . . excepted: Allusion to the Latin legal term exceptis excipiendis: with all the proper and necessary exceptions; with the proper exceptions having been made.]            5
MARIA:  Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest limits of order.    
SIR TOBY:  Confine! I’ll confine myself no finer than I am. These clothes are good enough to drink in, and so be these boots too: an [if] they be not, let them hang themselves in their own straps.    
MARIA:  That quaffing [guzzling] and drinking will undo you: I heard my lady talk of it yesterday; and of a foolish knight that you brought in one night here to be her wooer.    
SIR TOBY:  Who? Sir Andrew Aguecheek?    
MARIA:  Ay, he.            10
SIR TOBY:  He’s as tall a man as any’s in Illyria. 
MARIA:  What’s that to the purpose? [What's that have to do with what I am talking about?]    
SIR TOBY:  Why, he has three thousand ducats a year.
[ducat: Gold or silver coin once used in Europe]    
MARIA:  Ay, but he’ll have but a year in all these ducats [he'll spend them all within a year]: he’s a very fool and a prodigal.    
SIR TOBY:  Fie [for shame; bosh], that you’ll say so! he plays o’ [on] the viol-de-gamboys [stringed instruments with a bass sound] and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature.            15
MARIA:  He hath indeed, almost natural; for, besides that he’s a fool, he’s a great quarreller; and but [except] that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust [gift of a coward to back down from the heat generated in a quarrel] he hath in quarrelling, ’tis thought among the prudent he would quickly have the gift of a grave.    
SIR TOBY:  By this hand, they are scoundrels and substractors [detractors] that say so of him. Who are they?    
MARIA:  They that add, moreover, he’s drunk nightly in your company.    
SIR TOBY:  With drinking healths to my niece. I’ll drink to her as long as there is a passage in my throat and drink in Illyria. He’s a coward and a coystril [low, base fellow; knave] that will not drink to my niece till his brains turn o’ the toe like a parish-top [spinning top]. What, wench! Castiliano vulgo! [Use gentle speech!] for here comes Sir Andrew Agueface.
[Agueface: Play on words. An ague is a fever; hence, it causes redness. Agueface means red face; Sir Andrew Aguecheek means Sir Andrew Red Cheek.]    
Enter SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK.             20

SIR ANDREW:  Sir Toby Belch! how now, Sir Toby Belch!    
SIR TOBY:  Sweet Sir Andrew!    
SIR ANDREW:  Bless you, fair shrew.    
MARIA:  And you too, sir.    
SIR TOBY:  Accost [introduce yourself; confront her], Sir Andrew, accost.            25
SIR ANDREW:  What’s that?    
SIR TOBY:  My niece’s chambermaid.    
SIR ANDREW:  Good Mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance.    
MARIA:  My name is Mary, sir.    
SIR ANDREW:  Good Mistress Mary Accost,—            30
SIR TOBY:  You mistake, knight: "accost" is, front her, board her, woo her, assail her.    
SIR ANDREW:  By my troth [truly], I would not undertake her in this company. Is that the meaning of "accost?"    
MARIA:  Fare you well, gentlemen.    
SIR TOBY:  An [if] thou let her part so, Sir Andrew, would thou mightst never draw sword again!    
SIR ANDREW:  An [if] you part so, mistress, I would I might never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think you have fools in hand?            35
MARIA:  Sir, I have not you by the hand.    
SIR ANDREW:  Marry [by the Virgin Mary], but you shall have; and here’s my hand.    
MARIA:  Now, sir, “thought is free:” [I'm free to give you my opinion:] I pray you, bring your hand to the buttery-bar [in a tavern, butter supplies sat on a board on tankards] and let it drink.    
SIR ANDREW:  Wherefore [why], sweetheart? what’s your metaphor?    
MARIA:  It’s dry, sir.            40
SIR ANDREW:  Why, I think so: I am not such an ass but I can keep my hand dry. But what’s your jest?    
MARIA:  A dry jest, sir.    
SIR ANDREW:  Are you full of them?    
MARIA:  Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers’ ends: marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren.  [Exit.   
SIR TOBY:  O knight! thou lackest a cup of canary [a white wine]: when did I see thee so put down?            45
SIR ANDREW:  Never in your life, I think; unless you see canary put me down. Methinks sometimes I have no more wit than a Christian or an ordinary man has; but I am a great eater of beef, and I believe that does harm to my wit.    
SIR TOBY:  No question.    
SIR ANDREW:  An [if] I thought that, I’d forswear it.    
I’ll ride home to-morrow, Sir Toby.    
SIR TOBY:  Pourquoi [French for why], my dear knight?            50
SIR ANDREW:  What is “pourquoi?” do or not do? I would I had bestowed that time in the tongues [languages] that I have in fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting. O! had I but followed the arts!   
[Bear-baiting: A popular bloodsport in Shakespeare's London. In an enclosed area, keepers of a bear first tied the animal to a stake, then released dogs to fight with it.]
SIR TOBY:  Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair.    
SIR ANDREW:  Why, would that have mended my hair?    
SIR TOBY:  Past question; for thou seest it will not curl by nature.    
SIR ANDREW:  But it becomes me well enough, does it not?            55
SIR TOBY:  Excellent; it hangs like flax on a distaff [staff on which thread is spun from wool or flax], and I hope to see a housewife take thee between her legs, and spin it off.    
SIR ANDREW:  Faith, I’ll home to-morrow, Sir Toby: your niece will not be seen; or if she be, it’s four to one she’ll none of me. The count himself here hard by [nearby] woos her.    
SIR TOBY:  She’ll none o’ the count; she’ll not match above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; I have heard her swear it. Tut, there’s life in ’t, man.    
[She'll none . . . man: She'll have nothing to do with the count. She won't allow anyone to woo her who is higher is social standing, older, or more intelligent. Tut, there's hope for you to court her.]
SIR ANDREW:  I’ll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o’ the strangest mind i’ the world; I delight in masques [entertainments performed by persons wearing masks] and revels sometimes altogether.    
SIR TOBY:  Art thou good at these kickchawses, knight?            60
[kickchawses: Kickshaws, a term for tidbits, trinkets, or delicacies. Here, Sir Toby uses it to mean “those dainty things.”]
SIR ANDREW:  As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be, under the degree [social standing] of my betters: and yet I will not compare with an old man.    
SIR TOBY:  What is thy excellence in a galliard [lively dance], knight?    
SIR ANDREW:  Faith, I can cut a caper.    
SIR TOBY:  And I can cut the mutton to ’t.    
SIR ANDREW:  And I think I have the back-trick [I can dance backward] simply as strong as any man in Illyria.            65
SIR TOBY:  Wherefore [why] are these things hid? Wherefore [why]have these gifts a curtain before ’em? are they like to take dust, like Mistress Mall’s picture? [Mistress Mall: Possibly a reference to a prostitute or another name for Mary]  Why dost thou not go to church in a galliard, and come home in a coranto [dance with forward and backward steps]? My very walk should be a jig: I would not so much as make water but in a sink-a-pace [cinq pace, a five-step dance]. What dost thou mean? is it a world to hide virtues in? I did think, by the excellent constitution of thy leg, it was formed under the star of a galliard.    
SIR ANDREW:  Ay, ’tis strong, and it does indifferent well in a flame-coloured stock. Shall we set about some revels?    
SIR TOBY:  What shall we do else? were we not born under Taurus [a sign of the zodiac usually occurring between May 16 and June 21]?  
SIR ANDREW:  Taurus! that’s sides and heart. [In astrology in Shakespeare's day, Taurus was thought to govern the sides and the heart.]    
SIR TOBY:  No, sir, it is legs and thighs. Let me see thee caper. Ha! higher: ha, ha! excellent!  [Exeunt.
[Exeunt: Everyone leaves the stage.]

Act 1, Scene 4

A room in the Duke's palace.
Enter VALENTINE, and VIOLA in man’s attire.
VALENTINE:  If the duke continue these favours towards you, Cesario [Viola's name as a disguised male], you are like to be much advanced: he hath known you but three days, and already you are no stranger.   
VIOLA:  You either fear his humour [mood; demeanor] or my negligence, that you call in question the continuance of his love. Is he inconstant [unfaithful; unpredictable], sir, in his favours?   
VALENTINE:  No, believe me.            5
VIOLA:  I thank you. Here comes the count.   
Enter DUKE, CURIO, and Attendants.
DUKE:  Who saw Cesario? ho!   
VIOLA:  On your attendance, my lord; here.   
DUKE:  Stand you awhile aloof [stand aside a moment, all of you]. Cesario,            10
Thou know’st no less but all; I have unclasp’d   
To thee the book even of my secret soul:   
Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her,   
Be not denied access, stand at her doors,   
And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow            15
Till thou have audience.   
[Cesario, thou . . . audience: Cesario, you know everything about me, because I have even told you about the deep secrets in my soul. Therefore, I think you are the right person to go to her and stand fast at her door, refusing to be denied entry, until she admits you to speak with her.]
VIOLA:  Sure [I'm sure], my noble lord,   
If she be so abandon’d to her sorrow   
As it is spoke, she never will admit me.   
DUKE:  Be clamorous and leap all civil bounds            20
Rather than make unprofited return.
[Be clamorous . . . return: Raise a ruckus or whatever else it takes to get her to admit you. I don't want you to return here unless you make progress with her.]   
VIOLA:  Say I do speak with her, my lord, what then?   
DUKE:  O! then unfold the passion of my love;   
Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith:   
It shall become thee well to act [act out; describe; make vivid] my woes;            25
She will attend it better in thy youth   
Than in a nuncio of more grave aspect.   
[She will . . . aspect: She will pay more attention to a young person like you than to an older messenger who is solemn and dignified.]
VIOLA:  I think not so, my lord.   
DUKE:  Dear lad, believe it;   
For they shall yet belie thy happy years            30
That say thou art a man: Diana’s lip   
Is not more smooth and rubious; thy small pipe   
Is as the maiden’s organ, shrill and sound;   
And all is semblative a woman’s part.
I know thy constellation is right apt            35
For this affair. Some four or five attend him;   
All, if you will; for I myself am best   
When least in company. Prosper well in this,   
And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord,   
To call his fortunes thine.            40
[For they . . . fortunes thine: Those people who say you are a man haven't noticed your vibrant youth. Even Diana (in classical mythology, the beautiful goddess of the moon and of chastity) does not have smoother and redder lips than you. Your small voice is like a girl's. And the rest of you is womanly. I know you are the right person for this task. Four or five of you others go along with him. Or maybe all of you should go, for I enjoy being without company. If you do well in this task, Cesario, I will reward you well.]
VIOLA:  I’ll do my best   
To woo your lady:  [Aside.] yet, a barful strife [difficult task]!   
Whoe’er I woo, myself would be his wife.  [Exeunt.
Aside: Stage direction indicating that a character is speaking only to himself or, in some instances, to himself and a nearby character or nearby characters.]
[Whoe'er . . . wife: If I could choose whom to woo, I would choose the duke himself.]
[Exeunt: Everyone leaves the stage.]

Act 1, Scene 5

A room in Olivia's house.
Enter MARIA and FESTE, Clown.
[Clown: Jester; fool.]

MARIA:  Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will not open my lips so wide as a bristle may enter in way of thy excuse. My lady will hang thee for thy absence.
[Nay . . . absence: Either tell me where you were, or I won't accept any excuse at all. My lady will hang you for your absence.]    
FESTE:  Let her hang me: he that is well hanged in this world needs to fear no colours.
[He that . . . fear no colours: A dead man fears nothing, no matter its shape, size, or color.]
MARIA:  Make that good [explain that].            5
FESTE:  He shall see none to fear.   
MARIA:  A good lenten answer [that's a flimsy answer]: I can tell thee where that saying was born, of, “I fear no colours.”   
FESTE:  Where, good Mistress Mary?   
MARIA:  In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in your foolery.   
[In the wars . . . foolery: Soldiers came up with it in wars. You may use that answer in your jesting.]
FESTE:  Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those that are fools, let them use their talents.            10
[God give . . . talents: They have wisdom who were born with it. Fools have to use whatever meager talents they have.]
MARIA:  Yet you will be hanged for being so long absent; or, to be turned away [fired], is not that as good as a hanging to you?   
FESTE:  Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage; and, for turning away, let summer bear it out.   
[and, for turning . . . out: As for being out of a job, I wouldn't mind living outdoors in the nice summer weather.]
MARIA:  You are resolute then? [So you're not worried about being late?]   
FESTE:  Not so, neither; but I am resolved on two points.   
MARIA:  That if one break, the other will hold; or, if both break, your gaskins fall.            15
[That if one garter (or suspender) breaks the other will hold. But if both break, your stockings (or trousers) will fall.]
FESTE:  Apt, in good faith; very apt. Well, go thy way: if Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a piece of Eve’s flesh as any in Illyria.   
[Apt . . . Illyria: That's a very good reply. Well, you can run along now with the thought that if Sir Toby quit drinking you would be the wittiest person in Illyria.]
MARIA:  Peace, you rogue, no more o’ that. Here comes my lady: make your excuse wisely, you were best.  [Exit.   
FESTE:  Wit, an ’t be thy will, put me into good fooling! Those wits that think they have thee, do very oft prove fools; and I, that am sure I lack thee, may pass for a wise man: for what says Quinapalus? “Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.”
[Wit, an 't . . . foolish wit: Wit, if it be your will, help me do my best as a fool. Those people who think they have intelligence and wit often turn out to be fools. I, who lack wit, could pass for a wise man. For what says Quinapalus: “Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.” (Quinapalus was a character in the works of the French writer, Rabelais.)]   
God bless thee, lady!            20
OLIVIA:  Take the fool away.   
FESTE:  Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady.   
OLIVIA:  Go to, you’re a dry fool; I’ll no more of you: besides, you grow dishonest.   
FESTE:  Two faults, madonna [Italian for my lady], that drink and good counsel will amend: for give the dry fool drink, then is the fool not dry; bid the dishonest man mend himself: if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if he cannot, let the botcher mend him. Any thing that’s mended is but patched: virtue that transgresses is but patched with sin; and sin that amends is but patched with virtue. If that this simple syllogism [inept tailor][logical argument] will serve, so; if it will not, what remedy? As there is no true cuckold but calamity, so beauty’s a flower. The lady bade take away the fool; therefore, I say again, take her away.   
[There is no . . . flower: A cuckold is a husband whose wife is unfaithful. A calamity is an event in which there is great loss and ruination. Feste is saying in a roundabout way that all men marry good fortune, or luck. When good fortune abandons them—like an unfaithful wife—the men suffer calamity. A flower is also a cuckold in that its beauty fades when cold weather arrives. The flower then suffers a calamity—that is, it dies.]
OLIVIA:  Sir, I bade them take away you.            25
FESTE:  Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, cucullus non facit monachum; that’s as much to say as I wear not motley in my brain. Good madonna, give me leave to prove you a fool.   
[Misprision . . . fool: That would be a great mistake. Lady, the old Latin saying says that a hooded robe does not make the monk. In other words, clothes do not make the man; intelligence does. Now, that's like saying I wear my colorful jester's clothes in my brain. My good lady, you're the one who's a fool. Let me prove it.]
OLIVIA:  Can you do it?   
FESTE:  Dexteriously [with dexterity; cleverly], good madonna.   
OLIVIA:  Make your proof.   
FESTE:  I must catechise you for it, madonna: good my mouse of virtue, answer me.            30
[I must . . . me: I must instruct you the way they do in catechisms, by asking you questions. My good little mouse, you then must answer me.]
OLIVIA:  Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I’ll bide your proof. [Well, I have nothing better to do. Proceed.]   
FESTE:  Good madonna, why mournest thou?   
OLIVIA:  Good fool, for my brother’s death.   
FESTE:  I think his soul is in hell, madonna.   
OLIVIA:  I know his soul is in heaven, fool.            35
FESTE:  The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your brother’s soul being in heaven. Take away the fool, gentlemen.
[The more . . . heaven: There's your proof. Only a fool would mourn for someone in heaven.]   
OLIVIA:  What think you of this fool, Malvolio? doth he not mend [doesn't his funny talk make things more cheerful around here]?   
MALVOLIO:  Yes; and shall do, till the pangs of death shake him: infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever make the better fool.   
[Yes . . . better fool: Yes, and he'll continue his funny talk until he is dead. As people grow old, what they say gets funnier and funnier. Old age turns them into first-class fools.]
FESTE:  God send you, sir, a speedy infirmity, for the better increasing your folly! Sir Toby will be sworn that I am no fox, but he will not pass his word for two pence that you are no fool.   
OLIVIA:  How say you to that, Malvolio?            40
MALVOLIO:  I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such a barren [empty-headed] rascal: I saw him put down the other day with [by] an ordinary fool that has no more brain than a stone. Look you now, he’s out of his guard already [he's run out of things to say already]; unless you laugh and minister occasion [unless you laugh at him and pay attention] to him, he is gagged. I protest, I take these wise men, that crow so at these set kind of fools, no better than the fools’ zanies.   
[I protest . . . zanies: I think these so-called wise men who laugh at fools like him are no better than fools themselves.]
OLIVIA:  O! you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste with a distempered appetite. To be generous, guiltless, and of free disposition, is to take those things for bird-bolts that you deem cannon-bullets.
[O! You've made yourself sick with self-love, Malvolio, and you're nothing but a grouch. If you had a kind and generous disposition, you would take his little jests as harmless pebbles rather than cannon balls.]
There is no slander in an allowed fool, though he do nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known discreet man, though he do nothing but reprove.   
[There is . . . reprove: There is nothing vicious in a fool hired to make you laugh by criticizing you; nor does the fool's criticism mean that there are serious faults in the man who hired him.]
FESTE:  Now, Mercury endue thee with leasing, for thou speakest well of fools!   
[Because you speak well of fools, I hope Mercury, the god of cunning and trickery, endows you with a reward for your great skill at lying. (In classical mythology, Mercury was the Roman name for the messenger god. His Greek name was Ares. Mercury was also known for deception and lying.]
Re-enter MARIA.
MARIA:  Madam, there is at the gate a young gentleman much desires to speak with you.            45
OLIVIA:  From the Count Orsino, is it?   
MARIA:  I know not, madam: ’tis a fair young man, and well attended.   
OLIVIA:  Who of my people hold him in delay?   
MARIA:  Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman.   
OLIVIA:  Fetch him off, I pray you: he speaks nothing but madman. Fie on him!  [Exit MARIA.]  Go you, Malvolio: if it be a suit from the count, I am sick, or not at home; what you will, to dismiss it.  [Exit MALVOLIO.]  Now you see, sir, how your fooling grows old, and people dislike it.            50
FESTE:  Thou hast spoken for us, madonna, as if thy eldest son should be a fool; whose skull Jove cram with brains! for here comes one of thy kin has a most weak pia mater.
[Thou . . . mater: You have spoken of us fools, my lady, as if your oldest son is about to become a fool. The king of the gods, Jove, should cram his head full of brains, if one judges by the quality of the gray matter of your relatives. Here comes one of them now. He seems to be greatly deficient in gray matter.]   
OLIVIA:  By mine honour, half drunk. What is he at the gate, cousin?   
SIR TOBY:  A gentleman.   
OLIVIA:  A gentleman! what gentleman?            55
SIR TOBY:  ’Tis a gentleman here,—a plague o’ these pickle herring! How now, sot!   
[After Sir Toby says a gentleman is at the gate, he belches from eating pickled herring, then greets Feste as a fellow drunk.]
FESTE:  Good Sir Toby.   
OLIVIA:  Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by this lethargy [senseless behavior; drunkenness]?
[Cousin: This term was used for uncles, aunts, nieces, nephews, and other relatives.]   
SIR TOBY:  Lechery! [Apparently used in jest to rhyme with lethargy in line 58.] I defy lechery! There’s one [someone] at the gate.   
FESTE:  Ay, marry, what is he?            60
SIR TOBY:  Let him be the devil, an [if] he will, I care not: give me faith, say I. Well, it’s all one. [Well, it doesn't matter to me who's at the gate.] [Exit.   
OLIVIA:  What’s a drunken man like, fool?   
FESTE:  Like a drowned man, a fool, and a madman: one draught above heat [one drink too many] makes him a fool, the second mads him, and a third drowns him.   
OLIVIA:  Go thou and seek the crowner [coroner], and let him sit on [hold an inquest on] my coz [cousin]; for he’s in the third degree of drink, he’s drowned: go, look after him.   
FESTE:  He is but mad yet, madonna; and the fool shall look to the madman.  [Exit.            65
Re-enter MALVOLIO.
MALVOLIO:  Madam, yond [yonder] young fellow swears he will speak with you. I told him you were sick: he takes on him to understand so much, and therefore comes to speak with you. I told him you were asleep: he seems to have a foreknowledge of that too, and therefore comes to speak with you. What is to be said to him, lady? he’s fortified against any denial.   
OLIVIA:  Tell him he shall not speak with me.   
MALVOLIO:  Has been told so; and he says, he’ll stand at your door like a sheriff’s post, and be the supporter to a bench, but he’ll speak with you.   
OLIVIA:  What kind o’man is he?            70
MALVOLIO:  Why, of mankind.   
OLIVIA:  What manner of man?   
MALVOLIO:  Of very ill manner: he’ll speak with you, will you or no.   
OLIVIA:  Of what personage and years is he?   
MALVOLIO:  Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough for a boy; as a squash [unripe pod of a pea] is before ’tis a peascod, or a codling [green apple used in cooking] when ’tis almost an apple: ’tis with him in standing water, between boy and man. He is very well-favoured [handsome], and he speaks very shrewishly [speaks with a small voice]: one would think his mother’s milk were scarce out of him.            75
OLIVIA:  Let him approach. Call in my gentlewoman.   
MALVOLIO:  Gentlewoman, my lady calls.  [Exit.   
Re-enter MARIA.
OLIVIA:  Give me my veil: come, throw it o’er my face.   
We’ll once more hear Orsino’s embassy [messenger; ambassador].            80
Enter VIOLA and Attendants.
VIOLA:  The honourable lady of the house, which is she?   
OLIVIA:  Speak to me; I shall answer for her. Your will [message]?   
VIOLA:  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 [memorize] it. Good beauties, let me sustain no scorn; I am very comptible [sensitive], even to the least sinister usage [even to mild criticism].
OLIVIA:  Whence came you, sir?            85
VIOLA:  I can say little more than I have studied [memorized], and that question’s out of my part [not part of my memorized speech]. Good gentle one, give me modest assurance if you be the lady of the house, that I may proceed in my speech.   
OLIVIA:  Are you a comedian [Are you an actor in stage comedies]?   
VIOLA:  No, my profound heart; and yet, by the very fangs of malice I swear I am not that I play [not the person I appear to be]. Are you the lady of the house?   
OLIVIA:  If I do not usurp myself, I am [If I do not unlawfully take the place of myself, I am the lady of the house.]   
VIOLA:  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.            90
[Most certain . . . message: I'm sure you do take the place of your true self. Your true self would not reserve your love only for your dead brother but would bestow it on others worthy of it. Now I will continue with my speech and get to the heart of my message.]
OLIVIA:  Come to what is important in ’t: I forgive you the praise.
[Come . . . praise: Get to the important part and forget about the praise.]   
VIOLA:  Alas! I took great pains to study [memorize] it, and ’tis poetical.   
OLIVIA:  It is the more like to be feigned: I pray you keep it in. I heard you were saucy at my gates, and allowed your approach rather to wonder at you than to hear you. If you be not mad, be gone; if you have reason, be brief: ’tis not that time of moon with me to make one in so skipping a dialogue.
[It is the more . . . dialogue: It is likely that such a rehearsed speech lacks feeling and sincerity. It's a fraud, so keep it to yourself. I heard that you were unmannerly and overly bold at my gates, making yourself something to wonder at rather than to listen to. If you're some madman, leave. If you have something reasonable to say, be brief. I'm not in the mood to listen to a person who speaks with such lunacy as you.]   
MARIA:  Will you hoist sail [will you leave], sir? here lies your way.   
VIOLA:  No, good swabber; I am to hull here a little longer. Some mollification  for your giant, sweet lady.            95
[Viola uses swabber (sailor) and hull (drift aimlessly at sea) in reply to Maria's use of a nautical term (hoist sail) in the previous line. Viola addresses the second sentence of the line to Olivia. Viola explains that she had to pacify Maria, who apparently is a bit perturbed that Viola won't leave.]
OLIVIA:  Tell me your mind.   
VIOLA:  I am a messenger.   
OLIVIA:  Sure, you have some hideous matter to deliver, when the courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak your office.[Surely you have some hideous message to deliver, judging from your discourteous behavior. But go ahead. Speak the message.]
VIOLA:  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.   
[It alone . . . matter. It's meant for you only. I bring no hideous message, such as an announcement of war or a demand for money.]
OLIVIA:  Yet you began rudely. What are you? what would you? [what do you want?]            100
VIOLA:  The rudeness that hath appear’d in me have I learn’d from my entertainment [from the way I was treated when I arrived]. What I am, and what I would, are as secret as maidenhead; to your ears, divinity; to any other’s, profanation. [I will reveal the message to you if these others leave the room.]
OLIVIA:  Give us the place alone: we will hear this divinity [divine secret].  [Exit MARIA and Attendants.]   
Now, sir; what is your text?   
VIOLA:  Most sweet lady,—   
OLIVIA:  A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said of it. Where lies your text?            105
[A comfortable . . . text: Olivia pokes a little fun at Viola, saying that “most sweet lady” does not sound like a “divine” message from a sacred text.]
VIOLA:  In Orsino’s bosom.   
OLIVIA:  In his bosom! In what chapter of his bosom?   
VIOLA:  To answer by the method, in the first of his heart. [I'll answer in the way that you are framing our conversation. It's in the first chapter of his heart.]   
OLIVIA:  O! I have read it: it is heresy. Have you no more to say?
[O! . . . to say: Oh, I know what he has in mind, and I'm not interested. Is there anything more?]   
VIOLA:  Good madam, let me see your face.            110
OLIVIA:  Have you any commission from your lord to negotiate with my face? you are now out of your text [you are not sticking to the message]: but we will draw the curtain and show you the picture.  [Unveiling.]  Look you, sir, such a one I was as this present: is ’t not well done? [Look, sir, how my face appears right now. Is it not well done?]   
VIOLA:  Excellently done, if God did all.
[if God . . . all: If it appears as God created it and not as cosmetics enhanced it]   
OLIVIA:  ’Tis in grain, sir; ’twill endure wind and weather. [The colors are in my skin, not on it. Wind and rain can't remove them.]   
VIOLA:  ’Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white   
Nature’s own sweet and cunning hand laid on:            115
Lady, you are the cruell’st she alive,   
If you will lead these graces to the grave   
And leave the world no copy.   
[Lady . . . copy: Lady, you are the cruelest woman alive if, before you die, you do not marry and bear a child who inherits your beauty.]
OLIVIA:  O! Sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will give out divers [various] schedules of my beauty: it shall be inventoried, and every particle and utensil labelled to my will: as Item, Two lips, indifferent red; Item, Two grey eyes, with lids to them; Item, One neck, one chin, and so forth.    
Were you sent hither to praise me?            120
VIOLA:  I see you what you are: you are too proud;   
But, if you were the devil, you are fair [you would still be beautiful].   
My lord and master loves you: O! such love   
Could be but recompens’d, though you were crown’d   
The nonpareil of beauty [as a beauty without equal].            125
OLIVIA:  How does he love me?   
VIOLA:  With adorations, with fertile tears,   
With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.   
OLIVIA:  Your lord does know my mind; I cannot love him;   
Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble,            130
Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth;   
In voices well divulg’d, free, learn’d, and valiant;   
And, in dimension and the shape of nature.   
A gracious person; but yet I cannot love him:   
He might have took his answer long ago.            135
VIOLA:  If I did love you in my master’s flame,   
[If I . . . flame: If I loved with the same passion as my master]
With such a suffering, such a deadly life,   
In your denial I would find no sense;   
I would not understand it.   
OLIVIA:  Why, what would you [do]?            140
VIOLA:  Make me a willow cabin at your gate,   
And call upon my soul [Olivia] within the house;   
Write loyal cantons of contemned [scorned] love,   
And sing them loud even in the dead of night;   
Holla [shout] your name to the reverberate [echoing] hills,            145
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! [until you pity me!]   
OLIVIA:  You might do much. [You have talent and might go places.] What is your parentage?            150
VIOLA:  Above my fortune, yet my state is well:   
[Above . . . well: I was born to a high-ranking family, although my present position does not reflect this fact. Yet I get along well.]
I am a gentleman.   
OLIVIA:  Get you to your lord:   
I cannot love him. Let him send no more,   
Unless, perchance, you come to me again,            155
To tell me how he takes it. Fare you well:   
I thank you for your pains: spend this for me.   
VIOLA:  I am no fee’d post, lady; keep your purse: [I do not require a fee to deliver a message; keep your money.]   
My master, not myself, lacks recompense.   
Love make his heart of flint that you shall love,            160
And let your fervour, like my master’s, be   
Plac’d in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty.  [Exit.   
[Love make . . . cruelty: May his unrequited love turn his heart to stone, and may your indifference turn to burning love for him so that you may know what it's like to be rejected. Farewell, cruel beauty. Viola leaves.]
OLIVIA:  “What is your parentage?”   
“Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:   
I am a gentleman.” I’ll be sworn thou art:            165
Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit,   
Do give thee five-fold blazon [make you five times a handsome gentleman]. Not too fast: soft! soft!   
Unless the master were the man. How now!   
Even so quickly may one catch the plague?   
[Not too . . . plague: I should slow down, slow down. But what if the master were more like this young gentleman? What am I saying? Could I be falling in love so quickly?]
Methinks I feel this youth’s perfections            170
With an invisible and subtle stealth   
To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.   
What, ho! Malvolio!   
Re-enter MALVOLIO.
MALVOLIO:  Here, madam, at your service.            175
OLIVIA:  Run after that same peevish messenger,   
The county’s [count's; duke's] man: he left this ring behind him,   
Would I, or not: tell him I’ll none of it.   
[Would . . . of it: He asked whether I would I marry Orsino. The answer is no.]
Desire [tell] him not to flatter with his lord,   
Nor hold him up with hopes: I’m not for him.            180
If that the youth will come this way to-morrow,   
I’ll give him reasons for ’t. Hie thee [go now], Malvolio.   
MALVOLIO:  Madam, I will.  [Exit.   
OLIVIA:  I do I know not what, and fear to find   
Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind.            185
Fate, show thy force: ourselves we do not owe;   
What is decreed must be, and be this so!  [Exit.   
[I do not . . . this so: I don't know what's happening to me. I fear that my vision of this young gentleman is persuading my mind to fall in love with him. Fate, do what you will. We don't own ourselves, but are creatures of destiny. What fate decrees, we must do. Whatever will be will be.]

Act 2, Scene 1

The seacoast.

ANTONIO:  Will you stay no longer? nor will you not that I go with you? [Do you want me to go with you?]
SEBASTIAN:  By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly over me; the malignancy of my fate might, perhaps, distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of you your leave that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad recompense for your love to lay any of them on you.
[My stars . . . on you: Sebastian says he has no lucky stars shining on him but suffers from bad luck which could brush off on Antonio if the latter goes with him. So Sebastian says he will carry on alone, for he doesn't want to repay Antonio for his kindness by passing on his bad luck to him.]
ANTONIO:  Let me yet know of you whither [where] you are bound.            5
SEBASTIAN:  No, sooth, sir: my determinate voyage is mere extravagancy. But I perceive in you so excellent a touch of modesty that you will not extort from me what I am willing to keep in; therefore, it charges me in manners the rather to express myself. You must know of me then, Antonio, my name is Sebastian, which I called Roderigo. [In truth, sir, I cannot, because I'm just wandering. But I can tell that you are too polite to press me on this matter. So I'll tell you as much as I can. My name is Sebastian, but I've been going by the name Roderigo.] My father was that Sebastian of Messaline, whom I know you have heard of. He left behind him [after he died] myself and a sister, both born in an hour: if the heavens had been pleased, would we had so ended! but you, sir, altered that; for some hour before you took me from the breach of the sea was my sister drowned.   
ANTONIO:  Alas the day! [I'm so sorry!]   
SEBASTIAN:  A lady, sir, though it was said she much resembled me, was yet of many accounted beautiful: but, though I could not with such estimable wonder overfar believe that [I had a hard time believing that she was as beautiful as people said], yet thus far I will boldly publish [describe] her: she bore a mind that envy could not but call fair. She is drowned already, sir, with salt water, though I seem to drown her remembrance again with more [I seem to drown her over and over by continually mourning for her].   
ANTONIO:  Pardon me, sir, your bad entertainment. [Pardon me, sir, for being a bad host on our journey.]   
SEBASTIAN:  O good Antonio! forgive me your trouble! [Forgive me for the trouble I have caused you.]            10
ANTONIO:  If you will not murder me for my love, let me be your servant. [If you don't mind, let me be your servant.]   
SEBASTIAN:  If you will not undo what you have done, that is, kill him whom you have recovered, desire it not.  [You're the man who saved me. I don't want you to become angry with me if I seem ungrateful for your kind offer, but I must move on alone.] Fare ye well at once: my bosom is full of kindness [full of good feelings for you]; and I am yet so near the manners of my mother, that upon the least occasion more mine eyes will tell tales of me. [I am so much like my mother, who cried at the drop of a hat, that I will cry right now if I don't leave.] I am bound to the Count Orsino’s court: farewell.  [Exit.   
ANTONIO:  The gentleness of all the gods go with thee!   
I have many enemies in Orsino’s court,   
Else would I very shortly see thee there;            15
But, come what may, I do adore thee so,   
That danger shall seem sport, and I will go.  [Exit.
[I have . . . will go: (Speaking to himself) If I didn't have so many enemies in Orsino's court, I would meet you there. But so what. I like you so much as a friend that I'll risk the danger and follow you.]

Act 2, Scene 2

A street.
Enter VIOLA; MALVOLIO following.

MALVOLIO:  Were not you even now with the Countess Olivia?   
VIOLA:  Even now, sir: on a moderate pace I have since arrived but hither [here].   
MALVOLIO:  She returns this ring to you, sir: you might have saved me my pains, to have taken it away yourself. She adds, moreover, that you should put your lord into a desperate assurance she will none of him. And one thing more; that you be never so hardy to come again in his affairs, unless it be to report your lord’s taking of this [to report how your lord reacts]. Receive it so.            5
VIOLA:  She took the ring of [from] me; I’ll none of it.   
MALVOLIO:  Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her; and her will is it should be so returned: if it be worth stooping for, there it lies in your eye; if not, be it his that finds it.  [Exit.   
VIOLA:  I left no ring with her: what means this lady?   
Fortune forbid my outside have not charm’d her! [I hope I haven't charmed her into liking me.]   
She made good view of me; indeed, so much,            10
That sure methought her eyes had lost her tongue,   
For she did speak in starts distractedly.   
[She made . . . distractedly: She looked me over closely, so much that she had trouble completing her sentences.]
She loves me, sure; the cunning of her passion   
Invites me in this churlish messenger.
[She loves . . . messenger: I'm sure she loves me. When her rude messenger caught up with me and showed me the ring, it was part of a ploy of hers to get me to visit her again.]
None of my lord’s ring! why, he sent her none.            15
[None . . . her none: She supposedly said she would have nothing to do with Orsino's ring. But he didn't send her a ring.]
I am the man: if it be so, as ’tis,   
Poor lady, she were better love a dream.
[I am . . . dream: I'm the man she desires. If that's true, she would be better off loving someone in a dream.]   
Disguise, I see, thou art a wickedness,   
Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.   
How easy is it for the proper-false            20
In women’s waxen hearts to set their forms!   
[Disguise . . . forms: I now realize that wearing a disguise is wicked, for it preys on people who want to believe what they see. How easy it is for deceitful men to stamp their images on the innocent hearts of women.]
Alas! our frailty is the cause, not we! [Alas! We women are vulnerable because we are frail.]
For such as we are made of, such we be. [We are what we are made of.]   
How will this fadge [turn out]? My master loves her dearly;   
And I, poor monster, fond as much on [of] him;            25
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 . . . love: I'm desperate for my master's love, but I am disguised as a man.]
As I am woman,—now alas the day!—   
What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe!            30
[Because I am really a woman, the sighs poor Olivia breathes for me are useless.]
O time! thou must untangle this, not I;   
It is too hard a knot for me to untie.  [Exit.

Act 2, Scene 3

A room in Olivia's house.
SIR TOBY:  Approach, Sir Andrew: not to be a-bed after midnight is to be up betimes; and diluculo surgere, thou knowest,—    
[Not to be . . . knowest: Not to be sleeping in bed after midnight is the same as being up early. And as you know, rising early makes a man healthy—]
SIR ANDREW:  Nay, by my troth, I know not; but I know, to be up late is to be up late.    
SIR TOBY:  A false conclusion: I hate it as an unfilled can. To be up after midnight and to go to bed then, is early; so that to go to bed after midnight is to go to bed betimes. Does not our life consist of the four elements?            5
[A false . . . elements: That's a false conclusion, which I hate as much as an unfilled wine cup. If you're up after midnight, you're up at the beginning of a new day. Therefore, if you go to bed after midnight, you're going to bed early. Doesn't our life consist of the four elements—earth, air, water, and fire?]
SIR ANDREW:  Faith, so they say; but, I think, it rather consists of eating and drinking.    
SIR TOBY:  Thou art a scholar; let us therefore eat and drink. Maria, I say! a stoup [cup] of wine!    
Enter Feste.
SIR ANDREW:  Here comes the fool, i’ faith.    
FESTE:  How now, my hearts! Did you never see the picture of ‘we three?’            10
SIR TOBY:  Welcome, ass. Now let’s have a catch [song for at least three voices].    
SIR ANDREW:  By my troth, the fool has an excellent breast [voice]. I had rather than forty shillings I had such a leg, and so sweet a breath to sing, as the fool has. In sooth [in truth], thou wast in very gracious fooling last night, when thou spokest of Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians passing the equinoctial of Queubus: ’twas very good, i’ faith. I sent thee sixpence for thy leman [lady friend]: hadst it?
[Pigrogromitus . . . Queubus: Nonsense talk brought on by drinking]
FESTE:  I did impeticos [put in my pocket] thy gratillity [gratuity; tip]; for Malvolio’s nose is no whipstock [whip handle]: my lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no bottleale houses.
[Myrmidons: In classical mythology, warriors led in battle in the Trojan War by the Greek hero Achilles]
[for Malvolio's nose . . . houses: Feste is simply talking nonsense.]    
SIR ANDREW:  Excellent! Why, this is the best fooling, when all is done. Now, a song.    
SIR TOBY:  Come on; there is sixpence for you: let’s have a song.            15
SIR ANDREW:  There’s a testrill [sixpence coin] of me too: if one knight give a—    
FESTE:  Would you have a love-song, or a song of good life?    
SIR TOBY:  A love-song, a love-song.    
SIR ANDREW:  Ay, ay; I care not for good life.    
O! mistress mine! where are you roaming?
O! stay and hear; your true love’s coming,
That can sing both high and low.
Trip [travel] no further, pretty sweeting;
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
Every wise man’s son doth know.            20
SIR ANDREW:  Excellent good, i’ faith.    
SIR TOBY:  Good, good.    
What is love? ’tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What’s to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies no plenty;
Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty,
Youth’s a stuff will not endure.
SIR ANDREW:  A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight.    
SIR TOBY:  A contagious breath. [A smelly breath.]        25
SIR ANDREW:  Very sweet and contagious, i’ faith.     
SIR TOBY:  To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in contagion. [If we could listen to his song with our noses, we would say he sings sweetly with a smelly breath.] But shall we make the welkin dance indeed? [Shall we send up a song that will make the very sky dance?] Shall we rouse the night-owl in a catch [song] that will draw three souls out of one weaver? shall we do that? [Weavers liked to sing church music soulfully. Sir Toby apparently is suggesting that they could sing with triple the feeling of a weaver.]    
SIR ANDREW:  An [if] you love me, let’s do ’t: I am dog at a catch. [I am really good at singing.]    
FESTE:  By ’r lady [by Our Lady], sir, and some dogs will catch [howl] well.    
SIR ANDREW:  Most certain. Let our catch be, "Thou knave."            30
FESTE:  “Hold thy peace, thou knave,” knight? I shall be constrain’d in ’t to call thee knave, knight.    
SIR ANDREW:  ’Tis not the first time I have constrained one to call me knave. Begin, fool: it begins, “Hold thy peace.”    
FESTE:  I shall never begin if I hold my peace [if I keep quiet].    
SIR ANDREW:  Good, i’ faith. Come, begin.  [They sing a catch.    

Enter MARIA.            35

MARIA:  What a caterwauling do you keep here! If my lady have not called up her steward Malvolio and bid him turn you out of doors, never trust me.    
SIR TOBY:  My lady’s a Cataian; we are politicians; Malvolio’s a Peg-a-Ramsey, and ‘Three merry men be we.’ Am not I consanguineous? am I not of her blood? Tillyvally, lady!    
[My lady's . . . Tillvally, lady: Your lady can go to the devil. (Literally, your lady can go to Cathay, a name for China in the Middle Ages. A Cataian was a native or resident of Cathay.) We're clever fellows, like politicians, so don't fool with us. As for Malvolio, he's a just a nosy spy. And we are three merry men. Am I not consanguineal (related by blood) to Olivia? Get lost, lady! (Tillyvally was an expression of contempt.)]
Sir Toby then sings: “There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady, lady!”    
FESTE:  Beshrew me, the knight’s in admirable fooling. [Well, I'll be a son of a gun. The knight is pretty good at fooling (jesting).]    
SIR ANDREW:  Ay, he does well enough if he be disposed, and so do I too: he does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural.            40
SIR TOBY:  [Singing.] O! the twelfth day of December,—    
MARIA:  For the love o’ God, peace!    
MALVOLIO:  My masters, are you mad? or what are you? Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty, but to gabble [chatter; talk aimlessly and incoherently] like tinkers at this time of night? Do ye make an alehouse of my lady’s house, that ye squeak out your coziers’ catches [stupid cobblers' songs] without any mitigation or remorse of voice [without lowering your voices]? Is there no respect of place, persons, nor time, in you?    
SIR TOBY:  We did keep time, sir, in our catches. Sneck up! [Go hang yourself!]            45
MALVOLIO:  Sir Toby, I must be round [frank; firm] with you. My lady bade me tell you, that, though she harbours you as her kinsman, she’s nothing allied to your disorders. If you can separate yourself and your misdemeanours, you are welcome to the house; if not, an [if] it would please you to take leave of her, she is very willing to bid you farewell.    
SIR TOBY:  Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be gone.    
MARIA:  Nay, good Sir Toby.    
FESTE:  His eyes do show his days are almost done.    
MALVOLIO:  Is ’t even so?            50
SIR TOBY:  [Sings.] But I will never die.    
FESTE:  [Sings.] Sir Toby, there you lie.    
MALVOLIO:  This is much credit to you.    
SIR TOBY: [Sings.] Shall I bid him go?    
FESTE:  [Sings.] What an if you do? [What if you do?]            55
SIR TOBY: [Sings.] Shall I bid him go, and spare not [and be mean to him]?    
FESTE: [Sings.] O! no, no, no, no, you dare not.    
SIR TOBY:  “Out o’ time” [You're not keeping time with the music]! Sir, ye lie. [To Malvolio.] Art any more than a steward? Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?    
[Art any . . . ale: You're only a servant. Do you think that just because you're straitlaced, everyone else has to act like you?]
FESTE:  Yes, by Saint Anne; and ginger [spice in ale] shall be hot i’ the mouth too.    
SIR TOBY:  Thou ’rt in the right. Go, sir, rub your chain with crumbs . A stoup [cup] of wine, Maria!            60
[rub . . . office: Malvolio, like many stewards in Shakespeare's time, wears a chain around his neck to indicate his office in the household. It was part of his livery, or uniform. Crumbs refers to a compound used to polish the chain.]
MALVOLIO:  Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady’s favour at anything more than contempt, you would not give means for this uncivil rule: she shall know of it, by this hand.  [Exit.    
MARIA:  Go shake your ears. [Maria is calling him ass, which has long ears.]    
SIR ANDREW:  ’Twere as good a deed as to drink when a man’s a-hungry, to challenge him the field, and then to break promise with him and make a fool of him.    
[to challenge . . . of him: To challenge Malvolio to a duel, then to disappear on the day of the duel and leave him standing alone in the field.]
SIR TOBY:  Do ’t, knight: I’ll write thee a challenge; or I’ll deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth.    
MARIA:  Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for to-night: since the youth of the count’s was to-day with my lady, she is much out of quiet [out of sorts; not herself]. For Monsieur Malvolio, let me alone with him: if I do not gull him into a nayword, and make him a common recreation, do not think I have wit enough to lie straight in my bed. I know I can do it.            65
[If I do . . . recreation: If I cannot trick him into becoming an object of ridicule, a laughingstock for the public]    
SIR TOBY:  Possess us, possess us; tell us something of him. [You have our attention. Tell us something about him.]    
MARIA:  Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of puritan.    
SIR ANDREW:  O! if I thought that, I’d beat him like a dog.    
SIR TOBY:  What, for being a puritan? thy exquisite reason, dear knight?    
SIR ANDREW:  I have no exquisite reason for ’t, but I have reason good enough.            70
MARIA:  The devil a puritan that he is, or anything constantly but a time-pleaser; an affectioned ass, that cons state without book, and utters it by great swarths: the best persuaded of himself; so crammed, as he thinks, with excellences, that it is his ground of faith that all that look on him love him; and on that vice in him will my revenge find notable cause to work.
[The devil . . . work: Malvolio isn't really anything except someone who spends his time pleasing himself. He is a vain ass who memorizes the rules of elegant behavior to ingratiate himself with others. He flatters them with outpourings of praise. He thinks that because of his behavior everyone who looks at him loves him. Thus, I can get back at him by playing to his weakness, his vanity.]     
SIR TOBY:  What wilt thou do?    
MARIA:  I will drop in his way some obscure epistles of love [love letters]; wherein, by the colour of his beard, the shape of his leg, the manner of his gait, the expressure [the look] of his eye, forehead, and complexion, he shall find himself most feelingly personated [described]. I can write very like my lady your niece; on a forgotten matter we can hardly make distinction of our hands.
[on a forgotten . . . hands: If we come across a note that we forgot about, we can't tell the difference between her handwriting and mine.]    
SIR TOBY:  Excellent! I smell a device. [I smell a clever trick.]    
SIR ANDREW:  I have ’t in my nose too.            75
SIR TOBY:  He shall think, by the letters that thou wilt drop, that they come from my niece, and that she is in love with him.    
MARIA:  My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour.    
SIR ANDREW:  And your horse now would make him an ass.    
MARIA:  Ass, I doubt not.    
SIR ANDREW:  O! ’twill be admirable.            80
MARIA:  Sport royal, I warrant you: I know my physic will work with him. I will plant you two, and let the fool make a third, where he shall find the letter: observe his construction of [reaction to] it. For this night, to bed, and dream on the event. Farewell.  [Exit.    
[physic: Laxative; medicine that purges the bowels. Maria uses this word figuratively, as if her scheme will purge Malvolio of his haughtiness.]
SIR TOBY:  Good night, Penthesilea.    
[Penthesilea: In classical mythology, queen of the Amazons, a tribe of warrior women. Sir Toby is pleased that Maria has “declared war” on Malvolio.]
SIR ANDREW:  Before me, she’s a good wench.    
SIR TOBY:  She’s a beagle, true-bred, and one that adores me: what o’ that? [She's a good hunting dog, like a beagle, and just as devoted as a beagle to her friends, including me.]
SIR ANDREW:  I was adored once too.            85
SIR TOBY:  Let’s to bed, knight. Thou hadst need send for more money.    
SIR ANDREW:  If I cannot recover [win] your niece, I am a foul way out [I'm out of a lot of money].    
SIR TOBY:  Send for money, knight: if thou hast her not i’ the end, call me cut [castrated; gelded].    
SIR ANDREW:  If I do not, never trust me, take it how you will.    
SIR TOBY:  Come, come: I’ll go burn some sack [go drink some wine]; ’tis too late to go to bed now. Come, knight; come, knight.  [Exeunt.
[Exeunt: Everyone leaves the stage.]

Act 2, Scene 4

A room in the DUKE'S palace.
Enter DUKE, VIOLA, CURIO, and Others.
DUKE:  Give me some music. Now, good morrow [morning], friends:   
Now, good Cesario, but [regarding] that piece of song,   
That old and antique song we heard last night;            5
Methought it did relieve my passion [did soothe me] much,   
More than light [frivolous; trivial] airs and recollected terms [discussions]   
Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times:   
Come; but one verse.   
CURIO:  He is not here, so please your lordship, that should sing it.            10
DUKE:  Who was it?   
CURIO:  Feste, the jester, my lord; a fool that the Lady Olivia’s father took much delight in. He is about the house.   
DUKE:  Seek him out, and play the tune the while.  [Exit CURIO. Music.   
Come hither, boy [Viola]: if ever thou shalt love,   
In the sweet pangs of it remember me;            15
For such as I am all true lovers are:   
Unstaid [unsettled] and skittish in all motions else [in all other thoughts]   
Save [except] in the constant image of the creature   
That is belov’d. How dost thou like this tune?   
VIOLA:  It gives a very echo to the seat            20
Where love is thron’d.   
DUKE:  Thou dost speak masterly. [Masterly is  an adjective that is used here an adverb.]   
My life upon ’t, young though thou art, thine eye   
Hath stay’d upon some favour that it loves;   
Hath it not, boy?            25
VIOLA:  A little, by your favour.
[by your favour: There is dramatic irony here. The duke is unaware that “by your favour” (which means “if you please”) has a second meaning: the favor that Viola's eye has focused on is the duke.]
DUKE:  What kind of woman is ’t?   
VIOLA:  Of your complexion.   
DUKE:  She is not worth thee, then. What years, i’ faith?   
VIOLA:  About your years, my lord.            30
DUKE:  Too old, by heaven. Let still the woman take   
An elder than herself, so wears she to him,   
So sways she level in her husband’s heart:   
[Let still . . . heart: But a woman should marry a man older than herself, then adapt to his ways and thus remain dear to him in his heart.]
For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,   
Our fancies [desires and affections] are more giddy and unfirm,            35
More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn [done in],   
Than women’s are.   
VIOLA:  I think it well, my lord.   
DUKE:  Then, let thy love be younger than thyself,   
Or thy affection cannot hold the bent [cannot maintain itself; cannot remain strong];            40
For women are as roses, whose fair flower   
Being once display’d, doth fall that very hour.   
VIOLA:  And so they are: alas, that they are so;   
To die, even when they to perfection grow!   
Re-enter CURIO with FESTE.            45

DUKE:  O, fellow! come, the song we had last night.   
Mark it, Cesario; it is old and plain;   
The spinsters and the knitters in the sun,   
And the free maids that weave their thread with bones,   
Do use to chant it: it is silly sooth [uncomplicated but true],            50
And dallies with the innocence of love,   
Like the old age [like in olden times].   
FESTE:  Are you ready, sir?   
DUKE:  Ay; prithee, sing.  [Music.   

Come away, come away [come to me], death,
And in sad cypress let me be laid;
[And in . . . laid: And laid in a grove of sad cypress trees.]
Fly away, fly away, breath;
I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
My shroud of white, stuck all with yew [adorned with sprigs of yew, a symbol of death],
O! prepare it.
My part of death, no one so true
Did share it.
Not a flower, not a flower sweet,
On my black coffin let there be strown [strewn];
Not a friend, not a friend greet
My poor corse [corpse], where my bones shall be thrown.
A thousand thousand sighs to save,
[Not a friend . . . save: Because no one will greet my corpse, no one will sigh for me.]
Lay me, O! where
Sad true lover never find my grave,
To weep there.             55
DUKE:  There’s for thy pains [The duke offers payment].   
FESTE:  No pains, sir; I take pleasure in singing, sir.   
DUKE:  I’ll pay thy pleasure then.   
FESTE:  Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or another.   
DUKE:  Give me now leave to leave thee.            60
FESTE:  Now, the melancholy god protect thee, and the tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffeta, for thy mind is a very opal! I would have men of such constancy put to sea, that their business might be everything and their intent everywhere; for that’s it that always makes a good voyage of nothing.
[Now . . . nothing: May the god of melancholy protect you. And may the tailor make your jacket of shiny taffeta to match your shining mind. I would send men like you to sea to spread your good qualities everywhere. You're the kind of man who can make something good from nothing.]
Farewell.  [Exit.   
DUKE:  Let all the rest give place [leave].  [Exeunt CURIO and Attendants.
[Exeunt: The specified characters leave the stage.]
Once more, Cesario,   
Get thee to yond [yonder] same sovereign cruelty:   
Tell her, my love, more noble than the world,   
Prizes not quantity of dirty lands;            65
The parts that fortune hath bestow’d upon her,   
Tell her, I hold as giddily as fortune;   
But ’tis that miracle and queen of gems   
That nature pranks her in attracts my soul.   
[Get thee . . . my soul: Go back to Olivia's place. Tell her that I prize her above land and wealth and whatever else fortune bestows on a person. What I want is her love.]
VIOLA:  But if she cannot love you, sir?            70
DUKE:  I cannot be so answer’d.   
VIOLA:  Sooth [in truth], 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;            75
You tell her so; must she not then be answer’d?
DUKE:  There is no woman’s sides    
Can bide the beating of so strong a passion   
As love doth give my heart; no woman’s heart   
So big, to hold so much; they lack retention.            80
[This hyperbole, or exaggeration, says that the duke's love for Olivia beats with such passion in his heart that no woman other than Olivia could endure it. Her sides would burst.]
Alas! their love may be call’d appetite,   
No motion of the liver, but the palate,   
That suffer surfeit, cloyment, and revolt;
[Alas! . . . revolt: Alas, the love of another woman would just be a kind of appetite: it would taste and consume me, then become sick with overindulgence and spew me up.]   
But mine is all as hungry as the sea,   
And can digest as much. Make no compare            85
Between that love a woman can bear me   
And that I owe Olivia.   
VIOLA:  Ay, but I know,—   
DUKE:  What dost thou know?   
VIOLA:  Too well what love women to men may owe:            90
In faith, they are as true of heart as we.
My father had a daughter lov’d a man,   
As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman,   
I should your lordship.   
[My father had a daughter who loved a man as a I might love you if I were a woman.]
DUKE:  And what’s her history?            95
VIOLA:  A blank, my lord. She never told her love,   
But let concealment, like a worm i’ the bud,   
Feed on her damask [silken] cheek: she pined in thought,   
And with a green and yellow melancholy,   
She sat like Patience on a monument,            100
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.   
[but indeed . . . love: But we men are all talk and small action. We vow that we will love someone, but we don't do much to demonstrate our love.]
DUKE:  But died thy sister of her love, my boy?            105
VIOLA:  I am all the daughters of my father’s house,   
And all the brothers too; and yet I know not,   
Sir, shall I [go] to this lady?   
DUKE:  Ay, that’s the theme.   
To her in haste; give her this jewel; say            110
My love can give no place, bide no denay.  [Exeunt.
[My love . . . denay: My love remains strong and cannot abide a denial.]
[Exeunt: Everyone leaves the stage.]

Act 2, Scene 5

Olivia's garden.
SIR TOBY:  Come thy ways, Signior Fabian.    
FABIAN:  Nay [No need to coax me], I’ll come: if I lose a scruple of this sport, let me be boiled to death with melancholy.    
SIR TOBY:  Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly rascally sheep-biter come by some notable shame?             5
[sheep-biter: Sir Toby compares Malvolio to a vicious dog that bites sheep.]
FABIAN:  I would exult, man: you know he brought me out o’ favour with my lady about a bear-baiting here.
SIR TOBY:  To anger him we’ll have the bear again; and we will fool him black and blue; shall we not, Sir Andrew?    
[To anger . . . bear: To anger Malvolio, we'll provoke him as if he were a bear].
SIR ANDREW: An [if] we do not, it is pity of our lives.    
SIR TOBY:  Here comes the little villain.    
Enter MARIA.            10

How now, my metal of India!
[metal of India: Probably a reference to gold. India has long had great deposits of it. Here, Sir Toby is complimenting Maria as being as good as gold.]    
MARIA:  Get ye all three into the box-tree [hedges]. Malvolio’s coming down this walk: he has been yonder i’ the sun practising behaviour 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 letter.] for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling.  [Exit.    
[for I know . . . jesting: I know this letter will make him think how wonderful he is—and turn him into an idiot for us to look upon. Hide, in the name of jesting!]
MALVOLIO:  ’Tis but fortune; all is fortune. [Everything is a matter of luck.] Maria once told me she did affect [told me Olivia liked] me; and I have heard herself come thus near, that should she fancy [me], it should be one of my complexion [someone like me]. Besides, she uses me with a more exalted respect than anyone else that follows her. What should I think on ’t [of it]?    
SIR TOBY:  Here’s an over-weening [proud] rogue!            15
FABIAN:  O, peace! Contemplation makes a rare turkey-cock of him: how he jets under his advanced plumes!
[O, peace . . . plumes: Be quiet! When he walks around thinking about himself, he looks like a male turkey strutting under his plumage.]
SIR ANDREW:  ’Slight, I could so beat the rogue!    
['Slight: By His light—that is, by God's light.]
SIR TOBY:  Peace! [Quiet!] I say.    
MALVOLIO:  To be Count Malvolio!    
SIR TOBY:  Ah, rogue!            20
SIR ANDREW:  Pistol him, pistol him. [Shoot him.]    
SIR TOBY:  Peace! peace!    
MALVOLIO:  There is example for ’t: the lady of the Strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe.    
[the lady . . . wardrobe: A noblewoman named Lady Strachy married down to the servant in charge of her wardrobe.]
SIR ANDREW: Fie on him, Jezebel! [A curse on him. Has he no shame?]    
FABIAN:  O, peace! now he’s deeply in; look how imagination blows him.            25
MALVOLIO:  Having been three months married to her, sitting in my state,—    
[Having . . . state: How grand it would be after three months of marriage to Olivia, lounging around like a king—]
SIR TOBY:  O! for a stone-bow [crossbow that shoots stones], to hit him in the eye!    
MALVOLIO:  Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet gown [gown embroidered with representations of tree branches] come from a day-bed, where I have left Olivia sleeping,—    
SIR TOBY:  Fire and brimstone!  [This guy is too much; that's the last straw]
FABIAN:  O, peace! peace! [Quiet! Quiet!]           30
MALVOLIO:  And 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 ask for my kinsman Toby,—    
[And then . . . Toby: And then I'd put on the airs of a great nobleman and, looking around the room, tell the gathering of people that I know my place and that they should know theirs. Asking for my kinsman Toby—]
SIR TOBY:  Bolts and shackles!  [He's going too far! That's a slap in the face.]
FABIAN:  O, peace, peace, peace! now, now. [Oh, please be quiet.]
MALVOLIO:  Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for him. I frown the while; and perchance wind up my watch, or play with my—some rich jewel. Toby approaches; curtsies there to me,—    
[Seven . . . to me: I'd send seven of my servants to fetch Toby while I frown, wind up my watch, or play with some jewel. When Toby approaches, he bows to me—]
SIR TOBY:  Shall this fellow live?            35
FABIAN:  Though our silence be drawn from us with cars [horse-drawn carts], yet peace!    
MALVOLIO:  I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar smile with an austere regard of control,—    
SIR TOBY:  And does not Toby take you a blow on the lips then?    
MALVOLIO:  Saying, “Cousin Toby, my fortunes having cast me on your niece give me this prerogative of speech,”—    
SIR TOBY:  What, what?            40
MALVOLIO: “You must amend your drunkenness.”    
SIR TOBY:  Out, scab!    
FABIAN:  Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot.    
MALVOLIO:  “Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish knight,”—    
SIR ANDREW:  That’s me, I warrant you.            45
MALVOLIO:  ‘One Sir Andrew,’—    
SIR ANDREW:  I knew ’twas I; for many do call me fool.    
MALVOLIO:  [Seeing the letter.]  What employment have we here? [Is that something to occupy my time?]    
FABIAN:  Now is the woodcock near the gin [snare; trap].    
SIR TOBY:  O, peace! and the spirit of humours intimate reading aloud to him!            50
[O . . . him: O, quiet. I hope some spirit tells him to read the letter out loud!]
MALVOLIO:  [Taking up the letter.]  By 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 [it is without] question, her hand.    
SIR ANDREW:  Her C’s, her U’s, and her T’s: why that—    
MALVOLIO:  [Reads.]  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?    
[By our . . . this be: Look here—a wax seal. Wait a minute—that's the Lucrece imprint she uses on the seal. This is indeed my lady's, letter. To whom did she send it?]
[Lucrece: Legendary Roman woman of great beauty. Just before the founding of the Roman republic in 509 BC, Sextus Tarquinius—son of Lucius Tarquinius, the king of Rome—was said to have raped Lucrece. So distraught was she that she stabbed herself to death. Outraged citizens struck back at the Tarquinius family, overthrowing the king and establishing the Roman republic.]
FABIAN:  This wins him, liver and all.    
Jove knows I love;
But who?
Lips, do not move:
No man must know.            55
[Jove: In classical mythology, an alternate name for Jupiter, the Roman name for the king of the gods. His Greek name was Zeus.]
“No man must know.” What follows? the numbers altered! “No man must know:” if this should be thee, Malvolio!    
[the numbers altered: The meter of the poetry changes so that the lines in the next part of the poem have more syllables.]
SIR TOBY:  Marry, hang thee, brock [badger]!    
I 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.
FABIAN:  A fustian [elaborate] riddle!    
SIR TOBY:  Excellent wench, say I.            60
MALVOLIO:  “M, O, A, I, doth sway my life.” Nay, but first, let me see, let me see, let me see.    
FABIAN:  What dish o’ poison has she dressed him! [What a trap she has set for him!]    
SIR TOBY:  And with what wing the staniel checks at it! [Sir Toby compares Malvolio to a falcon examining bait.]
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 [evident to just about anyone]; there is no obstruction in this [There is nothing obscure in the message]. And the end, what should that alphabetical position portend? if I could make that resemble something in me,—Softly! [Go slowly.]M, O, A, I,—    
SIR TOBY:  O! ay, make up that: he is now at a cold scent. [Uh, oh. He's like a hunting dog that has lost the scent.]            65
FABIAN:  Sowter will cry upon ’t, for all this, though it be as rank as a fox.    
[Sowter . . . fox: Sowter (a dog's name) will pick up the scent in a moment even though it stinks as much as a fox.]
MALVOLIO:  M, Malvolio; M, why, that begins my name.    
FABIAN:  Did not I say he would work it out? the cur [dog] is excellent at faults [gaps in the scent].    
MALVOLIO:  M,—But then there is no consonancy [consistency] in the sequel [in what follows]; that suffers under probation [that leads nowhere under testing]: A should follow, but O does.    
FABIAN:  And O shall end, I hope.            70
SIR TOBY:  Ay, or I’ll cudgel him, and make him cry, O!    
MALVOLIO:  And then I comes behind.    
FABIAN:  Ay, an [if] you had any eye behind you [if you could see behind you], you might see more detraction [problems] at your heels than fortunes before you.    
MALVOLIO:  M, O, A, I; this simulation [puzzle] is not as the former; and yet, to crush this a little [to tinker with it a little], it would bow to me, for every one of these letters are in my name. Soft! [But wait!] here follows prose.

If 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 them. 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.

[If this letter falls into your hands, ponder it. Though I have a higher rank than you, you can rise higher than you are. Embrace a new destiny the Fates have prepared for you. To begin your advance, begin wearing new clothes. Be nasty with a kinsman and crude to servants. Discuss politics. Be your own man. The woman who loves you advises you to make these changes.  Remember to wear yellow stockings and garters that cross. So go ahead and renew yourself if you wish to. If not, then remain a steward, the equal of lowly servants, and not worthy of a better fortune. Farewell. I am she who would serve you, the FORTUNATE-UNHAPPY.]
Daylight and champaigne discovers not more: this is open. [Daylight and champaign cannot make this message any clearer, and I am open to doing what it says.]
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 will be proud and read books on politics. I will be nasty to Sir Toby and avoid associating with common people. I will be meticulous and precise in everything—the ideal 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 do not deceive myself or let my imagination run wild when I conclude from this letter that Lady Olivia loves me. She was the one who recently praised my yellow stockings and cross garters—a clue that she loves me and wants me to act how she suggested.]
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.
[I will do everything she said—and do it in yellow stockings and cross garters that I will put on right now.]

Jove and my stars be praised! Here is yet a postscript.

Thou 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.             75

Jove, I thank thee. I will smile: I will do everything that thou wilt have me.  [Exit.    
FABIAN:  I will not give my part of this sport for a pension of thousands to be paid from the Sophy.    
[I will not . . . Sophy: I wouldn't give up my part in this scheme for a pension of thousands paid by the king of Persia.]
SIR TOBY:  I could marry this wench [Maria] for this device.    
SIR ANDREW:  So could I too.    
SIR TOBY:  And ask no other dowry with her but such another jest.            80
SIR ANDREW:  Nor I neither.    
FABIAN:  Here comes my noble gull-catcher [trickster].    
Re-enter MARIA.
SIR TOBY:  Wilt thou set thy foot o’ my neck? [Will you let me kiss your foot?]
SIR ANDREW:  Or o’ mine either? [And let me, too?]     85
SIR TOBY:  Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip [gamble away my freedom at cards], and become thy bond-slave?    
SIR ANDREW:  I’ faith, or I either? [And let me serve you too?]    
SIR TOBY:  Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that when the image of it leaves him he must run mad.    
MARIA:  Nay, but say true; does it work upon him? [Tell me truthfully, is it working on him?]    
SIR TOBY:  Like aqua-vitae [a medicinal preparation] with a midwife.             90
MARIA:  If 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:  To the gates of Tartar [in classical mythology, part of Hades, or hell], thou most excellent devil of wit!    
SIR ANDREW:  I’ll make one too.  [Exeunt.
[Exeunt: Everyone leaves the stage.]

Act 3, Scene 1

Olivia's Garden.
Enter VIOLA, and FESTE with a tabor [drum].
[Viola is still disguised as Cesario.]
VIOLA:  Save thee, friend, and thy music. Dost thou live by thy tabor? [God preserve you, friend, and your music. Do you earn your keep by playing your drum?]
FESTE:  No, sir, I live by the church.     
VIOLA:  Art thou a churchman?            5
FESTE:  No such matter, sir: I do live by [next to] the church; for I do live at my house, and my house doth stand by the church.     
VIOLA:  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.     
FESTE:  You have said, sir. To see this age! A sentence is but a cheveril glove to a good wit: how quickly the wrong side may be turned outward!
[To see . . . outward: What an age we live in! A spoken or written sentence is like a soft goatskin glove to a clever person, who can apply a different meaning to the words as quickly as he or she could turn the glove inside out.]     
VIOLA:  Nay, that’s certain: they that dally nicely with words may quickly make them wanton.     
[they that . . . wanton: Those who know how to play with words can quickly change them around or give them a new interpretation.]
FESTE:  I would therefore my sister had had no name, sir. [That's why I wish my sister had no name, sir.]        10
VIOLA:  Why, man?     
FESTE:  Why, sir, her name’s a word; and to dally with that word might make my sister wanton [promiscuous; uncontrollable]. But indeed, words are very rascals since bonds [legal documents; contracts] disgraced them.     
VIOLA:  Thy reason, man?     
FESTE:  Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words; and words are grown so false, I am loath to prove reason with them.
[Troth . . . with them: Truly, sir, I can't give you a reason without words. But words have grown so false that I don't want to use them to make a point.]     
VIOLA:  I warrant thou art a merry fellow, and carest for nothing.            15
FESTE:  Not so, sir, I do care for something; but in my conscience, sir, I do not care for you: if that be to care for nothing,  sir, I would it would make you invisible.
[Not so . . . invisible: Not so, sir. I do care for something. But I don't care for you. If that means that I care for nothing (as Viola said in line 15), then you are nothing. You are invisible to me.]
VIOLA:  Art not thou the Lady Olivia’s fool?     
FESTE:  No, indeed, sir; the Lady Olivia has no folly: she will keep no fool, sir, till she be married; and fools are as like husbands as pilchards are to herrings—the husband’s the bigger. I am indeed not her fool, but her corrupter of words.
[pilchard: Fish that is smaller and rounder than a herring]     
VIOLA:  I saw thee late [recently] at the Count Orsino’s.     
FESTE:  Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb [the earth] like the sun; it shines every where. I would be sorry, sir, but the fool should be as oft with your master as with my mistress. I think I saw your wisdom there. [Wisdom (Olivia) contrasts with foolery (Feste).]        20
VIOLA:  Nay, an [if] thou pass upon me [fence with me], I’ll no more with thee. Hold, there’s sixpence for thee.  [Gives a piece of money.     
FESTE:  Now Jove, in his next commodity [distribution] of hair, send thee a beard!     
VIOLA:  By my troth [truly], I’ll tell thee, I am almost sick for one, though I would not have it grow on my chin. Is thy lady within?     
FESTE:  [Pointing to the coin.] Would not a pair of these have bred, sir? [Shouldn't a pair of these breed another coin? In other words, Feste wants another coin.]
VIOLA:  Yes, being kept together and put to use [put to use: earning interest].            25
FESTE:  I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia, sir, to bring a Cressida to this Troilus.     
[I would . . . Troilus: I would play a matchmaker to bring these two coins together as lovers who breed a child—that is, another coin. (In medieval stories about the ancient Trojan War, between Troy and Greece, Pandarus arranges a love affair between Troilus—the son of the king of Troy—and Cressida, a Trojan woman. In Greek mythology, Pandarus was a military leader allied with Troy.]
VIOLA:  I understand you, sir; ’tis well begg’d. [I understand your allusion to the story of Troilus and Cressida, sir. It was a good way to beg for another coin.]   
FESTE:  The matter, I hope, is not great, sir, begging but a beggar: Cressida was a beggar. [After Cressida was unfaithful to Troilus, says one medieval account, the gods inflicted leprosy on her and she ended up a beggar.] My lady is within, sir. I will conster to them whence you come [explain to them where you come from]; who you are and what you would [what you want] are out of my welkin [out of my sky, meaning out of my scope of knowledge]; I might say "element," but the word is overworn.  [Exit.     
VIOLA:  This fellow’s wise enough to play the fool,     
And to do that well craves a kind of wit:            30
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 labour as a wise man’s art;            35
For folly that he wisely shows is fit;     
But wise men folly-fall’n, quite taint their wit.     
[This fellow's . . . their wit: This fellow is an accomplished jester. He performs well because he has the intelligence to observe and react to the moods and qualities of people he targets for comment. Like a hawk that examines every feather of the bird it preys on, he must examine everything that comes before his eye. He must work hard to make his jesting wise and witty. But wise men who make fools of themselves quite taint their wit.]
SIR TOBY:  Save you, gentleman. [God save you, gentleman.]     
VIOLA:  And you, sir.            40
SIR ANDREW:  Dieu vous garde, monsieur. [French: God keep you, sir.]     
VIOLA:  Et vous aussi; votre serviteur.  [French: And you also; I am your servant.]
SIR ANDREW:  I hope, sir, you are; and I am yours.     
SIR TOBY:  Will you encounter [come into] the house? my niece is desirous you should enter, if your trade be to her.     
VIOLA:  I am bound to [I have come to speak with] your niece, sir: I mean, she is the list of [reason for] my voyage.            45
SIR TOBY:  Taste your legs, sir: put them to motion.     
VIOLA:  My legs do better understand me, sir, than I understand what you mean by bidding me taste my legs.     
SIR TOBY:  I mean, to go, sir, to enter.     
VIOLA:  I will answer you with gait and entrance. But we are prevented.     
[I will . . . prevented: I would go in, but here comes your lady.]
Enter OLIVIA and MARIA.             50

Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain odours on you!     
SIR ANDREW:  That youth’s a rare courtier. ‘Rain odours!’ well.
[courtier: One who uses flattery to gain favor.]     
VIOLA:  My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your own most pregnant and vouchsafed ear.     
[My matter . . . ear: I will not speak with anyone but you.]
SIR ANDREW:  “Odours,” “pregnant,” and “vouchsafed.” I’ll get ’em all three all ready. [I'll put those words in my vocabulary.]     
OLIVIA:  Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing.  [Exeunt SIR TOBY, SIR ANDREW, and MARIA.            55
[Exeunt: The specified characters leave the stage.]
Give me your hand, sir.     
VIOLA:  My duty, madam, and most humble service.     
OLIVIA:  What is your name?     
VIOLA:  Cesario is your servant’s name, fair princess.     
OLIVIA:  My servant, sir! 'Twas never merry world            60
Since lowly feigning was call’d compliment.     
You’re servant to the Count Orsino, youth.
[My servant . . . youth: My servant? The world hasn't been the same since people began pretending that flattery was a sincere compliment. You're not my servant. You're Count Orsino's.]     
VIOLA:  And he is yours, and his must needs be yours:     
Your servant’s servant is your servant, madam.     
[And he . . . madam: And he is your servant, madam. Whatever is his is yours. Since I am his servant, I must also be yours.]
OLIVIA:  For him, I think not on him: for his thoughts,            65
Would they were blanks rather than fill’d with me!     
VIOLA:  Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts     
On his behalf.     
OLIVIA:  O! by your leave, I pray you,     
I bade you never speak again of him:            70
But, would you undertake another suit,     
I had rather hear you to solicit that     
Than music from the spheres.    
[But . . . sphere: But if you were to speak for someone else (meaning Cesario), I would listen more attentively to you than I would to music from heaven. ]
VIOLA:  Dear lady,—     
Oli  Give me leave, beseech you. [Please let me speak.] I did send,            75
After the last enchantment you did here,     
A ring in chase of you: so did I abuse     
Myself, my servant, and, I fear me, you:     
[After . . . me, you: After you enchanted me on your last visit here, I sent you a ring. But it was wrong of me to try to deceive my servant and you about the ring.]
Under your hard construction must I sit,     
To force that on you, in a shameful cunning,            80
Which you knew none of yours: what might you think?     
[Under your gaze and judgment I must sit to force that shameful information on you while I wonder what you think of me?]
Have you not set mine honour at the stake,     
And baited it with all th’ unmuzzled thoughts     
That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiving     
Enough is shown; a cypress, not a bosom,            85
Hideth my heart. So, let me hear you speak.   
[Have you not tied my honor to a stake, like a bear, and baited it with dogs representing all the tyrranous thoughts which Duke Orsino can think of? Well, I've said enough. I wish I could hide my heart under a cypress tree instead of in my bosom. Now I want to hear what you have to say.]
VIOLA:  I pity you.     
OLIVIA:  That’s a degree to love. [That's one step toward love.] 
VIOLA:  No, not a grize; for ’tis a vulgar proof     
That very oft we pity enemies.            90
[no . . . enemies: No, not a step. It's a common feeling for anyone to pity enemies.]
OLIVIA:  Why, then methinks ’tis time to smile again.     
O world! how apt the poor are to be proud.     
If one should be a prey, how much the better     
To fall before the lion than the wolf!  [Clock strikes.
[Why, then . . . wolf: Why, then, if you don't love me, at least I can laugh at my misfortune. In this world, how likely it is for a person who lacks something to believe he can get it. Well, I'd rather lose to a lion than to a wolf.]
The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.            95
Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you:     
And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest,
[when wit . . . harvest: When you are fully mature]     
Your wife is like to reap a proper man:     
There lies your way, due west [toward the setting sun].     
VIOLA:  Then westward-ho!            100
[westward-ho: Cry of Thames River boatmen calling for passengers to Westminster.]
Grace and good disposition attend your ladyship!     
You’ll nothing, madam, to my lord by me? [Do you have any message for the duke?]
OLIVIA:  Stay:     
I prithee, tell me what thou think’st of me.     
VIOLA:  That you do think you are not what you are.            105
[That you . . . are: That you think you are someone who you are not. (This sentence is an indirect way of saying that Olivia doesn't think she is the kind of woman who could love the duke.)]
OLIVIA:  If I think so, I think the same of you.     
VIOLA:  Then think you right: I am not what I am.     
OLIVIA:  I would you were as I would have you be!     
VIOLA:  Would it be better, madam, than I am?     
I wish it might, for now I am your fool.            110
[Would it . . . fool: Would I be better than I am now? I hope so, for now I feel like a fool.]
OLIVIA:  O! what a deal of scorn looks beautiful        
In the contempt and anger of his lip.     
A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon     
Than love that would seem hid; love’s night is noon.   
[O! what . . . noon: O! How beautiful he looks when he is angry and contemptuous. A murderer can conceal his guilt longer than someone like me can hide her love. What I feel is as easy to see as the noon sun.]
Cesario, by the roses of the spring,            115
By maidhood [virginity], honour, truth, and every thing,     
I love thee so, that, maugre [in spite of] all thy pride,     
Nor [neither] wit nor reason can my passion hide.     
Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,     
For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause;            120
[Do not . . . cause: Don't think that you have no reason to reveal your feelings for me just because I have revealed my feelings for you.]
But rather reason thus with reason fetter,     
Love sought is good, but giv’n unsought is better.
[Instead, think that love sought is good (like the love that Orsino seeks) but that love unsought (like the love that Cesario might feel for Olivia) is better.
VIOLA:  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            125
Shall mistress be of it, save I alone.   
[By innocence . . . alone: By my innocent youth, I swear that no woman has ever won my love. Moreover, I swear that no woman shall ever control my love. Only I control it.]
And so adieu [French: good-bye], good madam: never more     
Will I my master’s tears to you deplore.   
[never more . . . deplore: Will I tell you about the tears my master cries for you.]
OLIVIA:  Yet come again, for thou perhaps mayst move     
That heart, which now abhors, to like his love.  [Exeunt.   
[Yet come . . . his love: But come again. Perhaps you can persuade me to love Duke Orsino even though I now reject his love.]       
[Exeunt: Everyone leaves the stage.]

Act 3, Scene 2

A room in Olivia's house.
SIR ANDREW:  No, faith, I’ll not stay a jot longer.   
SIR TOBY:  Thy reason, dear venom; give thy reason.   
FABIAN:  You must needs yield your reason, Sir Andrew.            5
SIR ANDREW:  Marry, I saw your niece do more favours to the count’s serving-man [Viola as Cesario] than ever she bestowed upon me; I saw ’t i’ the orchard.   
SIR TOBY:  Did she see thee the while, old boy? tell me that.   
SIR ANDREW:  As plain as I see you now.   
FABIAN:  This was a great argument [demonstration] of love in her toward you.   
SIR ANDREW:  ’Slight! will you make an ass o’ me?            10
FABIAN:  I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of judgment and reason.   
SIR TOBY:  And they [judgment and reason] have been grand-jurymen since before Noah was a sailor.   
[Noah: In the Old Testament (Genesis 5:28 and 10:32), the patriarch who constructed an ark to save himself and his family.]
FABIAN:  She did show favour to the youth in your sight only to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse [timid] valour, to put fire in your heart, and brimstone in your liver. You should then have accosted [confronted] her, and with some excellent jests, fire-new from the mint, you should have banged the youth into dumbness. This was looked for at your hand, and this was balked: the double gilt of this opportunity you let time wash off, and you are now sailed into the north of my lady’s opinion; where you will hang like an icicle on a Dutchman’s beard, unless you do redeem it by some laudable attempt, either of valour or policy.   
[This was looked . . . policy: She was looking for you to do these things, but you hesitated and passed up a golden opportunity. Now you have sailed north of Lady Olivia's favor and will hang like an icicle on a Dutchman's beard unless you do something to redeem yourself.]
SIR ANDREW:  An ’t [if it] be any way, it must be with valour, for policy I hate: I had as lief be a Brownist as a politician.   
[Brownist: Follower of Robert Browne (1550-1633), a Puritan leader.]
SIR TOBY:  Why, then, build me thy fortunes upon the basis of valour: challenge me the count’s youth to fight with him; hurt him in eleven places: my niece shall take note of it; and assure thyself, there is no love-broker in the world can more prevail in man’s commendation with woman than report of valour.            15
[Why, then . . . Why, then, entrust your fortunes to valor. Challenge Cesario to a fight, and hurt him in eleven places. Olivia take note of your achievement. There is no better way to endear yourself to Olivia than to demonstrate your valor.]
FABIAN:  There is no way but this, Sir Andrew.   
SIR ANDREW:  Will either of you bear me a challenge to him?   
SIR TOBY:  Go, write it in a martial [warlike] hand; be curst and brief [use curses and be brief]; it is no matter how witty, so it be eloquent [it doesn't matter how witty the challenge is as long as it is eloquent], and full of invention: taunt him with the licence of ink [with your words]: if thou thou’st him some thrice, it shall not be amiss [use thou at least three times to insult him; he will take notice] and [tell] as many lies as will lie in thy sheet of paper, although the sheet were big enough for the bed of Ware in England, set ’em down: go, about it. Let there be gall [outrage; bitterness] enough in thy ink, though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter: about it [now go about writing it].
[bed of Ware: Huge four-poster bed at the White Hart Inn in the town of Ware, Hertfordshire, England. It measured ten by eleven feet.]
SIR ANDREW:  Where shall I find you?   
SIR TOBY:  We’ll call thee at the cubiculo [small room or bedroom]: go.  [Exit SIR ANDREW.            20
FABIAN:  This is a dear manakin [puppet; dummy] to you, Sir Toby.   
SIR TOBY:  I have been dear to him, lad, some two thousand strong, or so. [I have been dear (meaning expensive) to him in that I got a lot of money from him over time.] 
FABIAN:  We shall have a rare letter from him; but you’ll not deliver it [but are you really going to deliver it?].  
SIR TOBY:  Never trust me, then [never trust me again if I don't deliver it]; and by all means stir on the youth to an answer [to answer it]. I think oxen and wainropes cannot  hale them together. For Andrew, if he were opened, and you find so much blood in his liver as will clog the foot of a flea, I’ll eat the rest of the anatomy.  
[wainropes: Wain ropes, which are used to tie down a load in a cart or wagon.]
[For Andrew . . . anatomy: Sir Toby is implying that Andrew is a coward and therefore won't fight. It was said that a coward had little blood in his liver.]
FABIAN:  And his opposite, the youth, bears in his visage no great presage [sign] of cruelty.            25
SIR TOBY:  Look, where the youngest wren of nine comes. [Look, here comes our friend, Maria. Because Maria is a small woman, Sir Toby compares her to the youngest wren in a brood.]
Enter MARIA.
MARIA:  If you desire the spleen [if you want some fun], and will laugh yourselves into stitches, follow me. Yond gull [person easily tricked] Malvolio is turned heathen, a very renegado [renegade; one who rejects Christianity]; for there is no Christian, that means to be saved by believing rightly, can ever believe such impossible passages of grossness [such passages that I wrote in the letter he found]. He’s in yellow stockings.   
SIR TOBY:  And cross-gartered?   
MARIA:  Most villanously; like a pedant [teacher] that keeps a school i’ the church. I have dogged him like his murderer. [I have followed him closely, like a murderer stalking a victim]. He does obey every point of the letter that I dropped to betray him: he does smile his face into more lines than are in the new map with the augmentation of the Indies. You have not seen such a thing as ’tis; I can hardly forbear hurling things at him. I know my lady will strike him: if she do, he’ll smile and take ’t for a great favour.            30
SIR TOBY:  Come, bring us, bring us where he is.  [Exeunt.

Act 3, Scene 3

A street.
SEBASTIAN:  I would not by my will have troubled you;   
But since you make your pleasure of your pains,  
[But . . . pains: But since you take pleasure in helping me]
I will no further chide you.            5
ANTONIO:  I could not stay behind you: my desire,   
More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth;   
And not all love to see you,—though so much   
As might have drawn one to a longer voyage,—   
But jealousy what might befall your travel,            10
Being skilless in these parts; which to a stranger,   
Unguided and unfriended, often prove   
Rough and unhospitable: my willing love,   
The rather by these arguments of fear,   
Set forth in your pursuit.            15
[And not all . . . pursuit: I followed not only because I wanted to befriend you but also because I was concerned about what my happen to you in these parts. To an unguided and unfriended stranger, this place can be rough and inhospitable. So it was both my friendship and my concern for your safety that prompted me to follow you.]
SEBASTIAN:  My kind Antonio,   
I can no other answer make but thanks,   
And thanks, and over thanks; for oft good turns   
Are shuffled off with such uncurrent pay:   
But, were my worth, as is my conscience, firm,            20
You should find better dealing. What’s to do?   
Shall we go see the reliques of this town? 
[I can no . . . town: Sebastian regrets that all he can do is say thanks—referred to as "uncurrent pay" because it is not currency, or money—for Antonio's support. But he would pay him handsomely, he says, if his financial status were as solid as his conscience. Then he suggests that they see the historical sights of the town.]
ANTONIO:  To-morrow, sir: best first go see your lodging.   
SEBASTIAN:  I am not weary, and ’tis long to night:   
I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes            25
With the memorials and the things of fame   
That do renown this city.   
ANTONIO:  Would you’d pardon me;   
I do not without danger walk these streets:   
Once, in a sea-fight ’gainst the Count his galleys [the galleys of the count],            30
I did some service; of such note indeed,   
That were I ta’en [captured] here it would scarce be answer’d.   
[it would . . . answer'd: I would not be rescued.]
SEBASTIAN:  Belike you slew great number of his people? 
[Belike . . . people: Probably you killed many of his people?] 
ANTONIO:  The offence is not of such a bloody nature,   
Albeit th
e quality of the time and quarrel            35
Might well have given us bloody argument. 
[Albeit . . . argument: But the nature of the quarrel and the time it happened might well have resulted in a bloody fight.]
It might have since been answer’d in repaying   
What we took from them; which, for traffic’s sake,   
Most of our city did: only myself stood out;   
For which, if I be lapsed in this place,            40
I shall pay dear.   
[It might have . . . pay dear: The argument may have been settled when most of our city paid back what we took from them so that the shipping trade could continue. I was the only one who did not take part in the settlement. Thus, if I'm not careful, I shall have to pay dearly.]
SEBASTIAN:  Do not then walk too open.   
ANTONIO:  It doth not fit me [It's wise for me not to]. Hold, sir; here’s my purse.   
In the south suburbs, at the Elephant,   
Is best to lodge: I will bespeak our diet [order food for us],            45
Whiles you beguile [pass] the time and feed your knowledge   
With viewing of the town: there shall you have me [I'll be waiting for you at the Elephant]. 
SEBASTIAN:  Why I your purse?   
ANTONIO:  Haply [perhaps] your eye shall light upon some toy   
You have desire to purchase; and your store,            50
I think, is not for idle markets, sir.   
[your store . . . sir: Your store of money, I think, is not large enough to buy anything except necessities.]
SEBASTIAN:  I’ll be your purse-bearer and leave you for an hour.   
ANTONIO:  To the Elephant.   
SEBASTIAN:  I do remember.  [Exeunt.
[Exeunt: Both men leave the stage.]

Act 3, Scene 4

Olivia's Garden
OLIVIA:  I have sent after him: he says he’ll come;   
How shall I feast him? what bestow of [on] him?   
For youth is bought more oft than begg’d or borrow’d.            5
I speak too loud.   
Where is Malvolio? he is sad, and civil,
And suits well for a servant with my fortunes:
[he is sad . . . fortunes: He is serious-minded and civil and thus suits me well at a time when I am in mourning.]   
Where is Malvolio?   
MARIA:  He’s coming, madam; but in very strange manner. He is sure possess’d, madam.            10
OLIVIA:  Why, what’s the matter? does he rave?   
MARIA:  No, madam; he does nothing but smile: your ladyship were best to have some guard about you if he come, for sure the man is tainted in ’s [in his] wits.   
OLIVIA:  Go call him hither.  [Exit MARIA.   
I am as mad as he,   
If sad and merry madness equal be.            15
[If sad . . . be: If seriousness is equal to his merry madness.]
Re-enter MARIA, with MALVOLIO.
How now, Malvolio!   
MALVOLIO:  Sweet lady, ho, ho.   
OLIVIA:  Smil’st thou?   
I sent for thee upon a sad occasion.            20
[sad: Olivia uses the word to mean serious and somber.]
MALVOLIO:  Sad, lady! I could be sad: this does make some obstruction in the blood, this cross-gartering; but what of that? if it please the eye of one, it is with me as the very true sonnet is, "Please one and please all."  
[I could be . . . please all: I suppose I could be sad, for my yellow garters obstruct the flow of my blood. But so what? If what I am wearing pleases the eye of an onlooker, I'm all for it.]
OLIVIA:  Why, how dost thou, man? what is the matter with thee?   
MALVOLIO:  Not black in my mind, though yellow in my legs. [I'm not sad or depressed in my mind but yellow in my legs.] It did come to his hands, and commands shall be executed: I think we do know the sweet Roman hand.
[It did . . . hand: That letter of yours did come to my hands, and what you suggested in it shall be carried out. I recognized the handwriting in the letter as your own.] 
OLIVIA:  Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio?   
MALVOLIO:  To bed! ay, sweetheart; and I’ll come to thee.            25
OLIVIA:  God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so and kiss thy hand so oft?   
MARIA:  How do you, Malvolio? [Are you well, Malvolio?] 
MALVOLIO:  At your request! Yes; nightingales answer daws.   
[At your . . . daws: You dare to request information from me, a person who is far above you? Am I supposed to answer to a common crow?]
MARIA:  Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady?   
MALVOLIO:  "Be not afraid of greatness:" ’Twas well writ. [Malvolio quotes from the letter.]           30
OLIVIA:  What meanest thou by that, Malvolio?   
MALVOLIO:  "Some are born great,"— [another quotation from the letter]
OLIVIA:  Ha!   
MALVOLIO:  "Some achieve greatness,"— [another quotation from the letter]  
OLIVIA:  What sayst thou?            35
MALVOLIO:  "And some have greatness thrust upon them." [another quotation from the letter]  
OLIVIA:  Heaven restore thee!   
MALVOLIO:  "Remember who commended thy yellow stockings,"— [another quotation from the letter]  
OLIVIA:  Thy yellow stockings!   
MALVOLIO:  "And wished to see thee cross-gartered."  [another quotation from the letter]            40
OLIVIA:  Cross-gartered!   
MALVOLIO:  "Go to, thou art made, if thou desirest to be so,"— [another quotation from the letter]  
OLIVIA:  Am I made?   
MALVOLIO:  "If not, let me see thee a servant still." [another quotation from the letter]  
OLIVIA:  Why, this is very midsummer madness.            45
Enter Servant.
Ser.  Madam, the young gentleman of the Count Orsino’s is returned. I could hardly entreat him back: he attends your ladyship’s pleasure.   
OLIVIA:  I’ll come to him.  [Exit Servant.]  Good Maria, let this fellow [Malvolio] be looked to. Where’s my cousin Toby? Let some of my people have a special care of him [Malvolio]: I would not have him miscarry [go mad] for the half of my dowry.  [Exeunt OLIVIA and MARIA. [Exeunt: The specified characters leave the stage.] 

MALVOLIO:  Oh, ho! do you come near me now? no worse man than Sir Toby to look to me! This concurs directly with the letter: she sends him on purpose, that I may appear stubborn to him; for she incites me to that in the letter. ‘Cast thy humble slough,’ says she; ‘be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants; let thy tongue tang with arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of singularity;’ and consequently sets down the manner how; as, a sad face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in the habit of some sir of note, and so forth. I have limed her; but it is Jove’s doing, and Jove make me thankful! And when she went away now, ‘Let this fellow be looked to;’ fellow! not Malvolio, nor after my degree, but fellow. Why, everything adheres together, that no dram of a scruple, no scruple of a scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous or unsafe circumstance—What can be said? Nothing that can be can come between me and the full prospect of my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked.   
[Oh . . . thanked: After hearing Olivia tell Maria to summon Sir Toby, Malvolio thinks Olivia has begun to act on what was outlined in the letter, saying, "she sends him on purpose, that I may appear stubborn to him." Then he quotes from other parts of the letter that tell him what to wear and how to act. Malvolio now believes that he has snared Olivia for himself with the help of Jove. Moreover, he interprets Olivia's reference to him as "this fellow" as a sign that she regards him as a companion. He concludes that nothing can come between him and Olivia, not even a dram or a scruple. (A dram and a scruple are tiny amounts of something.) He thanks Jove for his intervention.]

Re-enter MARIA, with SIR TOBY BELCH and FABIAN.             50

SIR TOBY:  Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all the devils in hell be drawn in little [be drawn into him], and Legion himself possess’d him, yet I’ll speak to him.   
[Legion: Allusion to Mark 5:9 of the New Testament, in which the devil identifies himself as Legion, because "we are many."]
FABIAN:  Here he is, here he is. How is ’t with you, sir? how is ’t with you, man?   
MALVOLIO:  Go off; I discard you: let me enjoy my private [privacy]; go off.   
MARIA:  Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did not I tell you? Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a care of him.   
MALVOLIO:  Ah, ha! does she so?            55
SIR TOBY:  Go to, go to: [help him, help him:] peace! peace! we must deal gently with him; let me alone [don't interfere with what I am doing]. How do you, Malvolio? how is ’t with you? What, man! defy the devil: consider, he’s an enemy to mankind.   
MALVOLIO:  Do you know what you say?   
MARIA:  La you! [what a sight you are!] an [if] you speak ill of the devil, how he takes it at heart [how he resents it]. Pray God, he be not bewitched!   
FABIAN:  Carry his water [urine] to the wise-woman [medicine woman; woman who uses charms to effect a cure].   
MARIA:  Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning, if I live. My lady would not lose him for more than I’ll say.            60
MALVOLIO:  How now, mistress!   
MARIA:  Lord!   
SIR TOBY:  Prithee, hold thy peace [please be quiet]; this is not the way: do you not see you move [disturb] him? let me alone with him.   
FABIAN:  No way but gentleness; gently, gently: the fiend is rough, and will not be roughly used.   
SIR TOBY:  Why, how now, my bawcock [good fellow]! how dost thou, chuck [chick, term of endearment spoken to give comfort—perhaps to a baby]?            65
MALVOLIO:  Sir!   
SIR TOBY:  Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, man! ’tis not for gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan: hang him, foul collier!   
[Ay, Biddy . . . collier: Come with me, my little chick. Now, then, we can't play games with Satan, that black devil. Hang him! (Cherry pit was a child's game in which players tossed cherry pits into a hole.)]
MARIA:  Get him to say his prayers, good Sir Toby, get him to pray.   
MALVOLIO:  My prayers, minx [trollop; impudent woman]
MARIA:  No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godliness.            70
MALVOLIO:  Go, hang yourselves all! you are idle shallow things: I am not of your element. You shall know more hereafter.  [Exit.   
SIR TOBY:  Is ’t possible?   
FABIAN:  If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction.   
SIR TOBY:  His very genius hath taken the infection of the device, man.
[His very . . . man: His very soul is infected with the trickery, man.]   
MARIA:  Nay, pursue him now, lest the device take air, and taint [lest the trickery lose its hold on him].           75
FABIAN:  Why, we shall make him mad indeed.   
MARIA:  The house will be the quieter.   
SIR TOBY:  Come, we’ll have him in a dark room, and bound [tied up]. My niece is already in the belief that he’s mad: we may carry it [continue our prank] thus, for our pleasure and his penance, till our very pastime, tired out of breath, prompt us to have mercy on him; at which time we will bring the device to the bar [to trial; to a court of justice], and crown thee  for a finder of madmen [and have you, Maria, testify as a finder of madmen]. But see, but see.   
FABIAN:  More matter for a May morning. [Here's another man to amuse us on this May morning.]          80
SIR ANDREW:  Here’s the challenge; read it: I warrant there’s vinegar and pepper in ’t.   
FABIAN:  Is ’t so saucy?   
SIR ANDREW:  Ay, is ’t, I warrant him: do but read.   
SIR TOBY:  Give [the letter to] me. [Reads.] "Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art but a scurvy fellow."  
FABIAN:  Good, and valiant.            85
SIR TOBY:  [Reads.] "Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind [nor be astonished], why I do call thee so, for I will show thee no reason for ’t."  
FABIAN:  A good note, that keeps you from the blow of the law.   
[A good . . . law: That's a good way to word the challenge. It won't get you into trouble with the law.]
SIR TOBY:  [Reads.] "Thou comest to the Lady Olivia, and in my sight she uses thee kindly: but thou liest in thy throat; that is not the matter I challenge thee for."  
FABIAN:  Very brief, and to exceeding good sense—less.   
SIR TOBY:  [Reads.] "I will waylay thee going home; where, if it be thy chance to kill me,—"            90
FABIAN:  Good.   
SIR TOBY: [Reads.] "Thou killest me like a rogue and a villain."  
FABIAN:  Still you keep o’ the windy [right] side of the law: good.   
SIR TOBY:  [Reads.] Fare thee well; and God have mercy upon one of our souls! He may have mercy upon mine, but my hope is better; and so look to thyself. Thy friend, as thou usest him [depending on how you treat him], and thy sworn enemy,

If this letter move him not, his legs cannot. I’ll give ’t him.            95
MARIA:  You may have very fit occasion for ’t: he is now in some commerce with my lady, and will by and by depart.   
[You may . . . depart: It so happens that he's here now talking with my lady and will soon leave.]
SIR TOBY:  Go, Sir Andrew; scout me for him at the corner of the orchard like a bum-baily: so soon as ever thou seest him, draw; and, as thou drawest, swear horrible; for it comes to pass oft that a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent sharply twanged off, gives manhood more approbation than ever proof itself would have earned him. Away!  
[Go, Sir . . . Away: Go out and stand watch for him at the corner of the orchard like a sheriff's officer ready to arrest a deadbeat. As soon as you see him, draw and then swear horribly. Shouting a terrible curse at him can make you seem really fearsome. Away!]
SIR ANDREW:  Nay, let me alone for swearing.  [Exit.   
SIR TOBY:  Now will not I deliver his letter: for the behaviour of the young gentleman gives him out to be of good capacity and breeding; his employment between his lord and my niece confirms no less: therefore this letter, being so excellently ignorant, will breed no terror in the youth: he will find it comes from a clodpole. But, sir, I will deliver his challenge by word of mouth; set upon Aguecheek a notable report of valour; and drive the gentleman,—as I know his youth will aptly receive it,—into a most hideous opinion of his rage, skill, fury, and impetuosity. This will so fright them both that they will kill one another by the look, like cockatrices.
[Now will . . . cockatrices: I won't deliver this letter, for the young gentleman seems intelligent and well-bred. His behavior as a messenger confirms no less. Consequently, this letter will have little effect on him. He will discover that it comes from an idiot. However, I will deliver the challenge by word of mouth and tell the youth that Aguecheek is a man of valor. This report will send the young man—who, because of his youth, will believe me—into a furious rage that will frighten both of them. They will end up trying to kill each other with terrifying gazes, like cockatrices. (In ancient mythology, a cockatrice was a serpent that could kill merely by looking at its victim.)   
FABIAN:  Here he [Cesario/Viola] comes with your niece: give them way till he take leave, and [then] presently [go] after him.            100
SIR TOBY:  I will meditate the while upon some horrid message for a challenge.  [Exeunt SIR TOBY, FABIAN, and MARIA. 
[Exeunt: The specified characters leave the stage.] 
Re-enter OLIVIA, with VIOLA.
OLIVIA:  I have said too much unto a heart of stone,   
And laid mine honour too unchary [openly] out:   
There’s something in me that reproves my fault [that scolds me for loving you],            105
But such a headstrong potent fault it is   
That it but mocks reproof [that I continue to love you].   
VIOLA:  With the same haviour that your passion bears   
Goes on my master’s griefs.   
[With the  . . . griefs: My master has the same problem; he continues to love you.]
OLIVIA:  Here; wear this jewel for me, ’tis my picture;            110
Refuse it not; it hath no tongue to vex you;   
And I beseech you come again to-morrow.   
What shall you ask of me that I’ll deny,   
That honour sav’d may upon asking give?  
[What do you want from me that I can give you as long as it doesn't taint my honor?]
VIOLA:  Nothing but this; your true love for my master.            115
OLIVIA:  How with mine honour may I give him that   
Which I have given to you?   
VIOLA:  I will acquit you. [You are free to take back your love and give it the duke.] 
OLIVIA:  Well, come again to-morrow: fare thee well:   
A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell.  [Exit.            120
[A fiend . . . hell: A devil resembling you could lead me to hell.]
SIR TOBY:  Gentleman, God save thee.   
VIOLA:  And you, sir.   
SIR TOBY:  That defence thou hast, betake thee to ’t: of what nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know not; but thy intercepter, full of despite, bloody as the hunter, attends thee at the orchard-end. Dismount thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation, for thy assailant is quick, skilful, and deadly.   
[That defence . . . deadly: If you can wield a sword, take one in hand. I don't know what wrongs you committed against Sir Andrew, but he is waiting for you at the end of the orchard. He is full of spite and ready to attack. Draw your sword and prepare to defend yourself, for he is quick, skillful, and deadly.]
VIOLA:  You mistake, sir: I am sure no man hath any quarrel to [with] me: my remembrance [memory] is very free and clear from any image of offence done to any man.            125
SIR TOBY:  You’ll find it otherwise, I assure you: therefore, if you hold your life at any price, betake you to your guard; for your opposite [enemy]  hath in him what youth, strength, skill, and wrath, can furnish man withal.   
VIOLA:  I pray you, sir, what is he?   
SIR TOBY:  He is knight dubbed with unhatched rapier, and on carpet consideration; but he is a devil in private brawl: souls and bodies hath he divorced three, and his incensement at this moment is so implacable that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death and sepulchre. Hob, nob, is his word: give ’t or take ’t.   
[He is . . . take 't: He's a knight with a sword never dented in battle. Although he earned his title by kneeling on a carpet before the king instead of by distinguishing himself in battle, he is a devil in private brawls. He has killed three men. His anger is so great that he will not be satisfied except by the death and burial of his foe. Be ready to hit or miss, to give or take.]
VIOLA:  I will return again into the house and desire some conduct of the lady [and request a guard to accompany me]: I am no fighter. I have heard of some kind of men that put [start] quarrels purposely on [with] others to taste their valour; belike [probably] this is a man of that quirk [ilk; kind].   
SIR TOBY:  Sir, no; his indignation derives itself out of a very competent injury [of an offense you inflicted upon him]: therefore get you on and give him his desire [therefore go out and face him]. Back you shall not to the house, unless you undertake that with me which with as much safety you might answer him: [don't try to take refuge in the house unless you want to fight with me, and you will be no better off]; therefore, on, or strip your sword stark naked; for meddle you must, that’s certain, or forswear to wear iron about you [therefore, go out and fight him. Either do that or take off your sword and be a coward].            130
VIOLA:  This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you, do me this courteous office, as to know of the knight what my offence to him is: it is something of my negligence, nothing of my purpose.   
[This is . . . purpose: This is uncivilized and bizarre. I beg you, do me the courtesy of asking the knight how I offended him.  It must be something I did accidentally rather than on purpose.]
SIR TOBY:  I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by this gentleman till my return.  [Exit.   
VIOLA:  Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter?   
FABIAN:  I know the knight is incensed against you, even to a mortal arbitrement [even to mortal combat], but nothing of the circumstance more.   
VIOLA:  I beseech you, what manner of man is he?            135
FABIAN:  Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read him by his form, as you are like to find him in the proof of his valour. [He looks ordinary, but he is a fierce fighter.] He is, indeed, sir, the most skilful, bloody, and fatal opposite [enemy] that you could possibly have found in any part of Illyria. Will you walk towards him? I will make your peace with him if I can.   
VIOLA:  I shall be much bound to you for ’t: I am one that had rather go with sir priest than sir knight [I'd rather pray than fight]; I care not who knows so much of my mettle [I don't care whether or not people think I'm brave].  [Exeunt. 
[Exeunt: All the characters leave the stage.]
Re-enter SIR TOBY, with SIR ANDREW.
SIR TOBY:  Why, man, he’s a very devil; I have not seen such a firago [fierce foe; beast]. I had a pass with him, rapier, scabbard and all, and he gives me the stuck in with such a mortal motion that it is inevitable; and on the answer, he pays you as surely as your feet hit the ground they step on. They say he has been fencer to the Sophy.   
[I had . . . Sophy: He and I had a go at it with swords. When he fences, he thrusts so quickly and with such deadly accuracy that the result is inevitable. No one stands a chance against him. They say he has been a fencer for the king of Persia.]
SIR ANDREW:  Pox on ’t, I’ll not meddle with him.            140
SIR TOBY:  Ay, but he will not now be pacified: Fabian can scarce hold him yonder.   
SIR ANDREW:  Plague on ’t; an [if] I thought he had been valiant and so cunning in fence I’d have seen him damned ere I’d have challenged him. Let him let the matter slip, and I’ll give him my horse, grey Capilet.   
SIR TOBY:  I’ll make the motion. Stand here; make a good show on ’t: this shall end without the perdition of souls [shall end peacefully].—[Aside.]  Marry, I’ll ride your horse as well as I ride you.   
Re-enter FABIAN and VIOLA.
[To FABIAN.]  I have his horse to take up the quarrel [he gave me his horse to settle the quarrel]. I have persuaded him the youth’s a devil.            145
FABIAN:  He is as horribly conceited of him [the youth is just as frightened as Sir Andrew]; and pants and looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels.   
SIR TOBY:  There’s no remedy, sir: he will fight with you for his oath’s sake. Marry, he hath better bethought him of his quarrel, and he finds that now scarce to be worth talking of: therefore draw for the supportance of his vow: he protests he will not hurt you. 
[There's no . . . hurt you:  There's no way out of this fight, sir. He wants to go on with it so he won't violate the oath he made. However, he now realizes it was a bad idea to challenge you to a duel. Nevertheless, you must draw against him. He promises that he won't hurt you.]
VIOLA:  [Aside.]  Pray God defend me! A little thing [the slightest threat to my safety] would make me tell them how much I lack of a man.   
FABIAN:  Give ground, if you see him furious.   
SIR TOBY:  Come, Sir Andrew, there’s no remedy: the gentleman will, for his honour’s sake, have one bout with you; he cannot by the duello [by the rules of dueling] avoid it: but he has promised me, as he is a gentleman and a soldier, he will not hurt you. Come on; to ’t.            150
SIR ANDREW:  Pray God, he keep his oath!  [Draws.   
VIOLA:  I do assure you, ’tis against my will.  [Draws.   
ANTONIO:  Put up your sword. If this young gentleman   
Have done offence, I take the fault on me:            155
If you offend him, I for him defy you.  [Drawing.   
SIR TOBY:  You, sir! why, what are you?   
ANTONIO:  One, sir, that for his love dares yet do more   
Than you have heard him brag to you he will.   
SIR TOBY:  Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for you.  [Draws.            160
FABIAN:  O, good sir Toby, hold! here come the officers.   
SIR TOBY:  I’ll be with you anon [anon].   
VIOLA:  [To SIR ANDREW.]  Pray, sir, put your sword up, if you please.   
SIR ANDREW:  Marry, will I, sir; and, for that I promised you, I’ll be as good as my word. He will bear you easily and reins well.   

Enter two Officers.             165

FIRST OFFICER:  This is the man; do thy office.   
SECOND OFFICER:  Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit   
Of Count Orsino.   
ANTONIO:  You do mistake me, sir.   
FIRST OFFICER:  No, sir, no jot: I know your favour [face] well,            170
Though now you have no sea-cap on your head.   
Take him away: he knows I know him well.   
ANTONIO:  I must obey.—[To VIOLA.]  This comes with [this is a result of] seeking you:   
[Antonio thinks Viola is Sebastian.]
But there’s no remedy: I shall answer it [I shall do what's necessary to defend myself].   
What will you do, now my necessity            175
Makes me to ask you for my purse? It grieves me   
Much more for what I cannot do for you   
Than what befalls myself. You stand amaz’d:   
But be of comfort.   
SECOND OFFICER:  Come, sir, away.            180
ANTONIO:  I must entreat of you some of that money.   
VIOLA:  What money, sir?   
For the fair kindness you have show’d me here,   
And part, being prompted by your present trouble,   
Out of my lean and low ability            185
I’ll lend you something: my having is not much:   
I’ll make division of my present with you.   
Hold, there is half my coffer.   
[my having . . . my coffer: I don't have much money, but I'll share it with you. There is half of what I have.]
ANTONIO:  Will you deny [that you know] me now?   
Is ’t possible that my deserts to you            190
Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery,   
[Is 't possible  . . . persuasion: Is it possible that what I did for you means nothing to you?]
Lest that it make me so unsound a man   
As to upbraid you with those kindnesses   
That I have done for you.   
VIOLA:  I know of none;            195
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.            200
ANTONIO:  O heavens themselves!   
SECOND OFFICER:  Come, sir: I pray you, go.   
ANTONIO:  Let me speak a little. This youth that you see here   
I snatch’d one-half out of the jaws of death,   
Reliev’d him with such sanctity of love,            205
And to his image, which methought did promise   
Most venerable worth, did I devotion.   
FIRST OFFICER:  What’s that to us? The time goes by [we're wasting time]: away!   
ANTONIO:  But O! how vile an idol proves this god.   
Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame.            210
[But O! . . . shame: But, oh, how vile is this young man who I previously thought was honorable.]
In nature there’s no blemish but the mind;   
None can be call’d deform’d but the unkind:   
Virtue is beauty, but the beauteous evil   
Are empty trunks o’erflourish’d by the devil.   
[In nature . . . devil: Outwardly you don't have a single blemish, but inside you're foul and ugly. Your unkindness deforms you. The devil must have made you appear virtuous.]
FIRST OFFICER:  The man grows mad: away with him! Come, come, sir.            215
ANTONIO:  Lead me on.  [Exeunt Officers with ANTONIO.   
[Exeunt: The specified characters leave the stage.]
VIOLA:  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!            220
[Methinks . . . you: I think he spoke with such passion that he really believed what he was saying. He was mistaken. On the other hand, my imagination tells me that he might have taken me for my brother. O, if only he were still alive.]
SIR TOBY:  Come hither [here], knight; come hither, Fabian: we’ll whisper o’er a couplet or two of most sage saws.  
[we'll whisper . . . saws: We'll ponder the meaning of some wise sayings.]
VIOLA:  He nam’d [referred to me as] Sebastian: I my brother know   
Yet living in my glass; even such and so   
In favour was my brother; and he went   
Still in this fashion, colour, ornament,            225
[I my brother . . . ornament: I see my brother all the time when I look into a mirror, because that's how much we resembled each other. Moreover, he always dressed in the same colors and ornaments that I'm wearing now.]
For him I imitate. O! if it prove,   
Tempests are kind, and salt waves fresh in love!  [Exit.   
[O! . . . O! I hope it's true that sea storms can be kind and that the salty waves can demonstrate love.]
SIR TOBY:  A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward than a hare. His dishonesty appears in leaving his friend here in necessity, and denying him; and for his cowardship, ask Fabian.   
FABIAN:  A coward, a most devout coward, religious in it.   
SIR ANDREW:  ’Slid [by God's eyelid], I’ll after him again and beat him.            230
SIR TOBY:  Do; cuff him soundly, but never draw thy sword.   
SIR ANDREW:  An [if] I do not, [Count on me.]—  [Exit.   
FABIAN:  Come, let’s see the event.   
SIR TOBY:  I dare lay any money ’twill be nothing yet. [I'll bet you any amount that nothing comes of it.]  [Exeunt.   
[Exeunt: Everyone leaves the stage.]

Act 4, Scene 1

The street adjoining Olivia’s house.
FESTE:  Will you make me believe that I am not sent for you?   
SEBASTIAN:  Go to, go to [get out of here]; thou art a foolish fellow: Let me be clear of thee.   
FESTE:  Well held out, i’ faith! [You're pretending. Well, so will I.]  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.            5
SEBASTIAN:  I prithee, vent thy folly somewhere else [Please go somewhere else to practice your foolery]: Thou 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'm afraid I'll have to pamper him like a child]. I prithee now, ungird thy strangeness and tell me what I shall vent [say] to my lady. Shall I vent to her that thou art coming?   
SEBASTIAN:  I prithee, foolish Greek [numskull], depart from me:   
There’s money for thee: if you tarry longer   
I shall give worse payment.            10
FESTE:  By my troth [truly], thou hast an open hand. These wise men that give fools money get themselves a good report after fourteen years’ purchase.   
SIR ANDREW:  Now, sir, have I met you again? there’s for you.  [Striking SEBASTIAN.   
SEBASTIAN:  Why, there’s for thee, and there, and there, and there!  [Beating SIR ANDREW.   
Are all the people mad?            15
SIR TOBY:  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 twopence.  [Exit.   
SIR TOBY:  [Holding SEBASTIAN.]  Come on, sir: hold.   
SIR ANDREW:  Nay, let him alone; I’ll go another way to work with him: I’ll have an action of battery against him [I'll sue him for battery] if there be any law in Illyria. Though I struck him first, yet it’s no matter for that.            20
SEBASTIAN:  Let go thy hand.   
SIR TOBY:  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.  [Disengaging himself.]  What wouldst thou now?   
If thou dar’st tempt me further, draw thy sword.   
SIR TOBY:  What, what! Nay then, I must have an ounce or two of this malapert [impudent; bold] blood from you.  [Draws.            25
OLIVIA:  Hold [stop], Toby! on thy life I charge thee, hold!   
SIR TOBY:  Madam!   
OLIVIA:  Will it be ever thus? Ungracious [bad-mannered] wretch!   
Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves,            30
Where manners ne’er were preach’d. Out of my sight!   
Be not offended, dear Cesario.   
Rudesby [rude man], be gone!  [Exeunt SIR TOBY, ANDREW, and FABIAN.
[Exeunt: The specified characters leave the stage.]
I prithee, gentle friend,   
Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway   
In this uncivil and unjust extent [offense]           35
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 [curse] his soul for me,            40
He started one poor heart of mine in thee. [He startled that heart of mine which is in you.] 
SEBASTIAN:  What relish is in this? how runs the stream?  [What are you saying? I don't understand your stream of words?]
Or I am mad, or else this is a dream:   
Let fancy still my sense in Lethe [River of Forgetfulness in classical mythology] steep;
If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!            45
[Or I am . . . sleep: Am I mad? Or is this beautiful woman a dream? If I am dreaming, let the dream continue and let me forget about reality.]
OLIVIA:  Nay; come, I prithee. Would thou’dst be rul’d by me!  [Come with me. Please do as I ask.]
SEBASTIAN:  Madam, I will.   
OLIVIA:  O! say so, and so be!  [Exeunt.
[Exeunt: Olivia and Sebastian leave the stage.]

Act 4, Scene 2

A room in Olivia's house.
Enter MARIA and FESTE; MALVOLIO in a dark chamber adjoining.
MARIA:  Nay, I prithee, put on this gown and this beard; make him believe thou art Sir Topas the curate [Anglican priest]: do it quickly; I’ll call Sir Toby the whilst.  [Exit.   
[Sir Topas: Comic protagonist in Geoffrey Chaucer's Rime of Sir Topas.]
FESTE:  Well, I’ll put it on and I will dissemble [disguise] myself 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 careful man and a great scholar. The competitors enter. [Here come my co-conspirators against Malvolio.] 
Enter SIR TOBY BELCH and MARIA.            5

SIR TOBY:  God bless thee, Master parson.   
FESTE:  Bonos dies, Sir Toby: for, as the old hermit of Prague, that never saw pen and ink, very wittily 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?’
[Bonos dies: Feste attempts to say "good day" or "hello" in Latin. However, the ancient Romans usually used "salve" for this greeting. Sometimes they used "bonum diem" to say "good morning."]
[old hermit of Prague: Possible reference to Edmund Campion (1540-1581), an English Jesuit priest who taught philosophy for six years in Prague.
[Gorboduc: A legendary king of Britain and the subject of a play by Thomas Norton and Thomas Sackville, first performed before England's Queen Elizabeth I in 1561.
[that, that is, is: That which is exists; that which exists is. Feste, as usual, is just playing with words.]
SIR TOBY:  To him [speak to Malvolio], Sir Topas.   
FESTE:  [Disguising his voice.] What ho! I say. Peace in this prison!   
SIR TOBY:  The knave counterfeits well; a good knave.            10
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.   
FESTE:  Out, hyperbolical fiend! how vexest thou this man! Talkest thou nothing but of ladies? [Feste pretends that Malvolio's voice is that of the devil.] 
SIR TOBY:  Well said, Master Parson.            15
MALVOLIO:  [Within.]  Sir Topas, never was man thus wronged. Good Sir Topas, do not think I am mad: they have laid me 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. Sayst thou that house is dark?   
MALVOLIO:  As hell, Sir Topas.   
FESTE:  Why, it hath bay-windows transparent as barricadoes [stone barricades], and the clerestories [part of a church wall, below the ceiling, containing windows to admit light], above toward the south-north are as lustrous as ebony; and yet complainest thou of obstruction?   
MALVOLIO:  I am not mad, Sir Topas. I say to you, this house is dark.            20
FESTE:  Madman, thou errest [err]: 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 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 [test me by asking me any question with an answer that is always constant—that is, that never changes.]  
FESTE:  What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild fowl?   
[Pythagoras: Ancient Greek philosopher and mathematician who was said to believe in reincarnation]
MALVOLIO:  That the soul of our grandam might haply [by chance] inhabit a bird.   
FESTE:  What thinkest thou of his opinion?            25
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 thou dispossess the soul of thy grandam. Fare thee well.   
[thou shalt . . . grandam: You must agree with the opinion of Pythagoras before I will regard you as sane. In addition, you must be fearful of killing a woodcock (small bird with a long bill), lest you drive the soul of your grandam out of it.]
MALVOLIO:  Sir Topas! Sir Topas!   
SIR TOBY:  My most exquisite Sir Topas!  [What a great job you are doing, Sir Topas!]
FESTE:  Nay, I am for all waters. [I can swim in any water. (Feste is bragging that he can pull off any stunt.)]          30
MARIA:  Thou mightst have done this without thy beard and gown: he sees thee not.   
SIR TOBY:  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 my niece that I cannot pursue with any safety this sport to the upshot. Come by and by to my chamber.  [Exeunt SIR TOBY and MARIA. 
[To him . . . chamber: Speak to him without disguising your voice, and let me know what condition he is in. I would like to end this prank. If you can find a way to release him without causing us problems, do so. Right now, I'm in trouble with Olivia, and I don't think it would be wise to continue with this trick. Come to my chamber when you get a chance.]
Hey Robin, jolly Robin,
Tell me how thy lady does.
MALVOLIO:  Fool!  [It's the fool, Feste!]
My lady is unkind, perdy!             35
[perdy: Alternate spelling of perdie, meaning certainly or indeed.]
MALVOLIO:  Fool!   
Alas, why is she so?
MALVOLIO:  Fool, I say!   
She loves another.
Who calls, ha?            40
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 thee for ’t.   
FESTE:  Master Malvolio!   
MALVOLIO:  Ay, good fool.   
FESTE:  Alas, sir, how fell you beside your five wits? [What happened to make you so crazy?]  
MALVOLIO:  Fool, there was never man so notoriously abused: I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art.            45
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 face me out of my wits.   
[They have . . . wits: They have confined me here like unwanted property moved to a dark cellar. Then they sent stupid ministers to exorcise me and did all they could to drive me out of my wits.]
FESTE:  Advise you what you say [be careful of what you say]: the minister is here. Malvolio, Malvolio, thy wits the heavens restore! endeavour thyself to sleep, and leave thy vain bibble-babble.   
MALVOLIO:  Sir Topas!   
FESTE: Maintain no words with him, good fellow.— [Feste speaks as himself.] Who, I, sir? not I, sir. God be wi’ you, good Sir Topas. [Feste speaks as Sir Topas.] Marry, amen. [Feste speaks as himself.]I will sir, I will.            50
MALVOLIO:  Fool, fool, fool, I say!   
FESTE:  Alas, sir, be patient. What say you, sir? I am shent [reprimanded] 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!  [Goodness gracious, I wish you were, sir!]         55
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 [benefit] thee more than ever the bearing of letter did.   
FESTE:  I will help you to ’t. But tell me true, are you not mad indeed? or do you but counterfeit [pretend]?   
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 [reward you] in the highest degree: I prithee, be gone [Please get the paper and ink].            60
I am gone, sir,
And anon [soon], sir,
I’ll be with you again
In a trice [moment],
Like to the old Vice,
Your need to sustain;
Who with dagger of lath,
In his rage and his wrath,
Cries, Ah, ha! to the devil:
Like a mad lad,
Pare thy nails, dad;
Adieu, goodman devil.
[Vice: In medieval morality plays, a character—often comic—representing a specific vice or vice in general. Sometimes the character carried a wooden dagger which he brandished at the devil and with which he threatened to cut the fingernails of the devil. As a harasser of the devil, Vice would be helping Malvolio, as the fifth and sixth lines of Feste's poem suggest.]

Act 4, Scene 3

Olivia's garden.
SEBASTIAN:  This is the air; that is the glorious sun;    
This pearl she [Olivia] gave me, I do feel ’t and see ’t;    
And though ’tis wonder that enwraps me thus,            5
Yet ’tis not madness. Where’s Antonio then?    
I could not find him at the Elephant;    
Yet there he was, and there I found this credit [information],    
That he did range the town to seek me out.    
His counsel [advice] now might do me golden service;            10
For though my soul disputes well [agrees] with my sense [reason]   
That this may be some error, but no madness,   
Yet doth this accident [good luck] and flood of fortune    
So far exceed all instance, all discourse,   
That I am ready to distrust mine eyes,            15
And wrangle with my reason that persuades me    
To any other trust but that I am mad 
[For though . . . am mad: For my instinct agrees with my common sense that I am here in this dream world because of some mistake, not because of madness. However, the good luck and flood of fortune that came my way are so great and so inexplicable that I am ready to distrust my eyes and my common sense and conclude that I am indeed mad.]
Or else the lady’s mad: yet, if ’twere so,    
She could not sway [manage] her house, command her followers [staff],    
Take and give back affairs and their dispatch [conduct business and make decisions]           20
With such a smooth, discreet, and stable bearing    
As I perceive she does. There’s something in ’t    
That is deceivable. But here the lady comes.   
[There's something . . . comes: There's something strange going on, but here the lady comes.]
Enter OLIVIA and a Priest.
OLIVIA:  Blame not this haste of mine. If you mean well,            25
Now go with me and with this holy man    
Into the chantry by [into his nearby chapel]; there, before him,    
And underneath that consecrated roof,    
Plight me the full assurance of your faith; [swear that we are engaged to be married]   
That [so that] my most jealous [uneasy; anxious] and too doubtful soul            30
May live at peace. He shall conceal it    
Whiles you are willing it shall come to note,    
What time we will our celebration keep   
[He shall . . . keep: The priest will conceal our vows to marry until you are ready to publicize when the wedding celebration will take place.]
According to my birth. What do you say?    
SEBASTIAN:  I’ll follow this good man, and go with you;            35
And, having sworn truth, ever will be true.    
OLIVIA:  Then lead the way, good father; and heavens so shine    
That they may fairly note this act of mine!  [Exeunt.   
[Exeunt: Everyone leaves the stage.]

Act 5, Scene 1

The street before Olivia's house.
FABIAN:  Now, as thou lovest me, let me see his letter.   
FESTE:  Good Master Fabian, grant me another request.   
FABIAN:  Anything.            5
FESTE:  Do not desire to see this letter.   
FABIAN:  This is, to give a dog, and, in recompense desire my dog again.  
[This is . . . again: This is like giving me a dog and then making me pay for it by giving the dog back.]
Enter DUKE, VIOLA, CURIO, and Attendants.
DUKE:  Belong you to the Lady Olivia, friends?   
FESTE:  Ay, sir; we are some of her trappings.            10
DUKE:  I know thee well: how dost thou, my good fellow?   
FESTE:  Truly, sir, the better for my foes and the worse for my friends.   
DUKE:  Just the contrary; the better for thy friends.   
FESTE:  No, sir, the worse.   
DUKE:  How can that be?            15
FESTE:  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.
[they praise . . . for my foes: My friends praise me insincerely, then make an ass of me. But my enemies tell me the truth: that I am an ass. Therefore, I learn something about myself when they criticize me. So I am the better for my enemies than I am for my foes. The point is that the negative things that my enemies say about me can turn out to be positives. So, as I said, I am better for my enemies.]
DUKE:  Why, this is excellent.   
FESTE:  By my troth [truly], sir, no; though it please you to be one of my friends.   
DUKE:  Thou shalt not be the worse for me: there’s gold.   
FESTE:  But that it would be double-dealing, sir,            20
I would you could make it another.
[If it weren't double-dealing (that is, dishonesty or trickery), I wish you would give me another coin.]  
DUKE:  O, you give me ill counsel [bad advice].   
FESTE:  Put your grace in your pocket, sir, for this once, and let your flesh and blood obey it. 
[Put your . . . obey it: Don't worry about double-dealing, sir. Just this once, break the rules.]
DUKE:  Well, I will be so much a sinner to be a double-dealer: there’s another.   
FESTE:  Primo, secundo, tertio [First, second, third], is a good play; and the old saying is, ‘the third pays for all:’ the triplex, sir, is a good tripping [dancing] measure; or the bells of Saint Bennet [Saint Benedict, a church in London] sir, may put you in mind; one, two, three.            25
DUKE:  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 [I may give you another coin].   
FESTE:  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 [soon].  [Exit.   
VIOLA:  Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me.   
Enter ANTONIO and Officers.
DUKE:  That face of his I do remember well;            30
Yet when I saw it last, it was besmear’d   
As black as Vulcan in the smoke of war.  
[Vulcan: In ancient Roman mythology, the blacksmith god.]
A bawbling [small] vessel was he captain of,   
For shallow draught and hulk unprizable
[draught: Distance from the water line to the bottom of the hull]  
[hulk unprizable: Hull that is old and barely seaworthy]
With which such scathful grapple did he make            35
[With which . . . make: With which he put up an admirable fight]
With the most noble bottom [best ship] of our fleet,   
That very envy and the tongue of loss   
Cried fame and honour on him. What’s the matter?   
[That very . . . him: That even though we suffered losses, we envied him and shouted fame and honor upon him.]
FIRST OFFICER:  Orsino, this is that Antonio   
That took the Phoenix [a ship] and her fraught [cargo] from Candy;            40
[Candy: Kingdom of Candia, the official name of Crete in Shakespeare's time]
And this is he that did the Tiger [ship] board,   
When your young nephew Titus lost his leg.   
Here in the streets, desperate of shame and state,   
In private brabble [squabble; quarrel] did we apprehend him.   
VIOLA:  He did me kindness, sir, drew on my side;            45
But in conclusion put strange speech upon me:   
I know not what ’twas but distraction [confusion; mental or emotional turmoil].   
DUKE:  Notable pirate! thou salt-water thief!   
What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies [to the mercy of those]  
Whom thou, in terms so bloody and so dear,            50
Hast made thine enemies?   
ANTONIO:  Orsino, noble sir,   
Be pleas’d that I shake off these names you give me:   
Antonio never yet was thief or pirate,   
Though I confess, on base and ground enough [on the available evidence],            55
Orsino’s enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither [here]:   
That most ingrateful boy there by your side,   
From the rude sea’s enrag’d and foamy mouth   
Did I redeem [rescue]; a wrack [wreck] past hope he was:   
His life I gave him, and did thereto add            60
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:            65
Where being apprehended [when I was arrested], 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,            70
Which I had recommended to his use   
Not half an hour before.   
[Taught . . . before: Made him pretend that he didn't know me. He distanced himself from me in the wink of an eye and refused to help me with money I gave him for his own use only a half-hour before my arrest.]  
VIOLA:  How can this be?   
DUKE:  When came he to this town?   
ANTONIO:  To-day, my lord; and for three months before,—            75
No interim, not a minute’s vacancy,—   
Both day and night did we keep company.   
Enter OLIVIA and Attendants.
DUKE:  Here comes the countess: now heaven walks on earth!   
But for thee, fellow [Antonio]; fellow, thy words are madness:            80
Three months this youth hath tended upon me;   
But more of that anon [soon]. Take him aside.   
OLIVIA:  What would my lord, but that he may not have,   
Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?  
[What would . . . serviceable: What do you want, my lord—except for me—that I might provide you?]
Cesario, you do not keep promise with me. [Cesario, you failed to keep your promise to me. (Olivia thinks Cesario is Sebastian.)]           85
VIOLA:  Madam!   
DUKE:  Gracious Olivia.—   
OLIVIA:  What do you say, Cesario? Good my lord,—
[Good my lord: In response to the duke's greeting ("Gracious Olivia"), Olivia asks the duke not to interrupt.]  
VIOLA:  My lord would speak; my duty hushes me.   
[My lord . . . me: Duke Orsino wishes to speak. My duty to him requires me to be silent.]
OLIVIA:  If it be aught to the old tune, my lord,            90
It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear   
As howling after music.   
[If it be . . . music: If you are going to try to woo me again, my lord, you would be singing the same tune that I've heard over and over. This tune is offensive to my ear, like howling.]
DUKE:  Still so cruel?   
OLIVIA:  Still so constant, lord.   
DUKE:  What, to perverseness? you uncivil lady,            95
To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars   
My soul the faithfull’st offerings hath breath’d out   
That e’er devotion tender’d! What shall I do?   
[What, to . . . shall I do: You are being stubborn and uncivil. I have paid faithful homage to you.]
OLIVIA:  Even what it please my lord, that shall become him. [Do what you please within the bounds of good taste.]
DUKE:  Why should I not, had I the heart to do it,            100
Like to the Egyptian thief at point of death,   
Kill what I love? a savage jealousy   
That sometimes savours nobly. But hear me this:   
[Egyptian thief: An allusion to Thyamis, a character in Aethiopica, by the ancient Greek writer Heliodorus. Thyamis, a robber, fell in love with an Ethiopian princess. When other robbers pursued him, he placed Chariclea in a dark cave where he kept treasure. The other robbers attacked. Believing he was about to die, Thyamis entered the cave to kill Chariclea so that no one else could have her. In the darkness, he killed the wrong woman.]
[a savage . . . nobly: Sometimes people regard savage jealousy as a noble trait.]
Since you to non-regardance cast my faith,   
And that I partly know the instrument            105
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,            110
Where he sits crowned in his master’s spite.  
[Since you . . . spite: Since you ignore me and since I know you love Cesario, I am going to take him from you so that you will have to continue living as a cold-hearted tyrant. I will tear him free of your cruel eye, where his image sits to spite me.]
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.  [Going.   
[I'll sacrifice . . . dove: I'll sacrifice this boy to spite you, Olivia.]
VIOLA:  And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly,            115
To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.  [Following.   
[And I . . . die: And I would happily and willingly die a thousand deaths if you could be at peace, master.]
OLIVIA:  Where goes Cesario? [Where are you going, 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.            120
If I do feign, you witnesses above  [If I pretend, you witnesses in heaven]
Punish my life for tainting of my love!   
OLIVIA:  Ah me, detested! how am I beguil’d!   
VIOLA:  Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong?   
OLIVIA:  Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long? [Olivia thinks Viola/Cesario is Sebastian.]           125
Call forth the holy father.  [Exit an Attendant.   
DUKE:  [To VIOLA.]  Come away.   
OLIVIA:  Whither [where], my lord? Cesario, husband, stay.   
DUKE:  Husband?   
OLIVIA:  Ay, husband: can he that deny?            130
DUKE:  Her husband, sirrah?   
VIOLA: No, my lord, not I.   
OLIVIA:  Alas! it is the baseness of thy fear   
That makes thee strangle thy propriety.
[it is  . . . propriety: You're afraid to ackowledge who you are.] 
Fear not, Cesario; take thy fortunes up;            135
Be that thou know’st thou art, and then thou art   
As great as that thou fear’st.   
[Fear not . . . fear'st: Don't be afraid, Cesario. Be who you really are and then you will be as formidable as the one you fear.]
Enter Priest.
O, welcome, father!   
Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence,            140
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.   
[Father, I ask you now to reveal what we previously said we would keep secret. Tell everyone what recently took place between this youth and me.]
Priest.  A contract of eternal bond of love [a contract to marry],            145
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:            150
Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave   
I have travell’d but two hours.   
[and all the  . . . hours: And by the ceremony which I conducted to seal this contract. It took place just two hours ago.]
DUKE:  O, thou dissembling [deceitful] cub! what wilt thou be [what other trickery will you work] 
When time hath sow’d a grizzle on thy case? [when time has grayed the hair on your skin] 
Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow            155
That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow?   
[Or will your trickery trip you up and bring about your downfall?]
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:            160
Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear. [Hold onto a little virtue even though you have a lot to fear.] 
Enter SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK, with his head broken.
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.            165
[coxcomb: Cockscomb, which is the red, fleshy outgrowth on the top of a rooster's head. Sir Andrew is saying that Sir Toby suffered a wound on the top of his head. Cockscomb can also refer to the hat worn by a jester (fool), which is designed to resemble the cockscomb of a rooster.]
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 [incarnate].   
DUKE:  My gentleman, Cesario?   
SIR ANDREW:  Od’s lifelings [by God's little creatures]! here he is. You broke my head for nothing! and that that I did [and that which I did], I was set on to do ’t by Sir Toby.   
VIOLA:  Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you:            170
You drew your sword upon me without cause;   
But I bespake 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, drunk, led by the Clown.

Here comes Sir Toby halting [limping]; you shall hear more: but if he had not been in drink [not been drunk] he would have tickled you othergates than he did [he would have tickled you otherwise with his sword].            175
DUKE:  How now, gentleman! how is ’t with you?   
SIR TOBY:  That’s all one: he has hurt me, and there’s the end on ’t. Sot, didst see Dick surgeon, sot?   
[That's all . . . sot: What matters is that he hurt me, and there's an end to it. Drunkard, did you see the surgeon?]
FESTE:  O! he’s [the surgeon is] drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone: his eyes were set at eight i’ the morning. 
[O! he's . . . morning: Oh, he's been drunk for the last hour. His eyes set like the sun at eight this morning.]
SIR TOBY:  Then he’s a rogue, and a passy-measures pavin. I hate a drunken rogue.  
[passy-measures pavin: Sir Toby is comparing the surgeon to a pavan, a dance with slow, dainty movements.]
OLIVIA:  Away with him! Who hath made this havoc with them?            180
SIR ANDREW:  I’ll help you, Sir Toby, because we’ll be dressed [bandaged] together.   
SIR TOBY:  Will you help? an ass-head and a coxcomb and a knave, a thin-faced knave, a gull [victim of foul play]!   
OLIVIA:  Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look’d to.  [Exeunt Clown, FABIAN, SIR TOBY, and SIR ANDREW.   
[Exeunt: The specified characters leave the stage.]
SEBASTIAN:  I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kinsman;            185
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            190
We made each other but so late ago.   
DUKE:  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 tortur’d me            195
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            200
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,            205
[Nor can . . . where: Nor do I have the godlike power of being in more than one place at the same time.]
Whom the blind waves and surges have devour’d.   
Of charity, what kin are you to me?
[Of charity . . . me: Be kind enough to tell me what relation you are to me.] 
What countryman? what name? what parentage   
VIOLA:  Of Messaline: Sebastian was my father;   
Such a Sebastian was my brother too,            210
So went he suited [dressed as he is now] to his watery tomb.   
If spirits can assume both form and suit   
You come to fright us.   
[If spirits . . . fright us: If spirits can assume human form and wear the clothes of my brother, you must be the spirit of my brother here to frighten us.]
SEBASTIAN:  A spirit I am indeed;   
But am in that dimension grossly clad [am in the same body]            215
Which from the womb I did participate [appear in].   
[A spirit . . . participate: I am indeed a spirit—that is, a soul—but I am in the same body that I appeared in on the day I was born.]
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.            220
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 [his life]           225
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            230
That I am Viola: which to confirm,   
I’ll bring you to a captain in this town,   
Where [in whose home] lie my maiden weeds [my woman's clothes]: by whose gentle help   
I was preserv’d to serve this noble count.   
All the occurrence of my fortune since            235
Hath been between this lady and this lord.   
SEBASTIAN:  [To OLIVIA.]  So comes it, lady, you have been mistook [mistaken]:   
But nature to her bias drew in that.  
You would have been contracted to a maid;   
[But . . . maid: But nature biased you toward someone resembling me. When you loved Cesario, you loved me. If the engagement ceremony had taken place, you would have been contracted to a woman.]
Nor are you therein, by my life, deceiv’d,            240
You are betroth’d both to a maid and man.   
[Nor are . . . man: But you haven't been entirely wrong, for I am a virgin like my sister. In that sense, you love a maid.]
DUKE:  Be not amaz’d; right noble is his blood. [Don't be surprised, either, that he is of noble blood.]  
If this be so, as yet the glass seems true,   
I shall have share in this most happy wrack.   
[To VIOLA.]  Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times            245
Thou never shouldst love woman like to me.   
[If this . . . me: There's no doubt that all of this is true, for you both resemble each other so closely. And I shall have share in these developments. Boy, you have told me a thousand times that you would never love a woman the way you love me.]
VIOLA:  And all those sayings will I over-swear [will I swear again]
And all those swearings keep as true in soul   
As doth that orbed continent the fire [as does the sun keep the fire]
That severs day from night.            250
DUKE:  Give me thy hand;   
And let me see thee in thy woman’s weeds [clothes].   
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 [is now detained at Malvolio's request],            255
A gentleman and follower of my lady’s.   
OLIVIA:  He shall enlarge [provide information on] him. Fetch Malvolio hither [here].   
And yet, alas, now I remember me [now I remind myself that],   
They say, poor gentleman, he’s much distract [disturbed mentally].   
A most extracting frenzy of mine own            260
From my remembrance clearly banish’d his.   
[A most . . . his: I have been so preoccupied that I forgot about his problem.]
Re-enter Clown with a letter, and FABIAN.
How does he, sirrah?   
FESTE:  Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub [Beelzebub (pronounced be EL zuh bub), another name for Satan] at the stave’s end [at arm's length] as well as a man in his case may do. He has here writ a letter to you: I should have given it to you to-day morning; but as a madman’s epistles are no gospels, so it skills not much when [it makes no difference what time of day] they are delivered.   
OLIVIA:  Open it, and read it.            265
FESTE:  Look then to be well edified, when the fool delivers the madman. [Look to be well educated when a fool like me reads the letter of a madman.] By the Lord, madam,—   
OLIVIA:  How now! art thou mad?   
FESTE:  No, madam, I do but read madness [but read what mad Malvolio says]: an [if] your ladyship will have it as it ought to be, you must allow vox [you must allow me to read it in a madman's voice].   
OLIVIA:  Prithee, read i’ thy right wits [Please read it in your right voice].            270
FESTE:  So I do, madonna [my lady]; but to read his right wits is to read thus: therefore perpend [pay attention], my princess, and give ear.   
OLIVIA:  [To FABIAN.]  Read it you, sirrah.   
FABIAN:  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 [behavior] 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.
[with the which . . . injury: with the letter, I don't doubt that I can prove myself right and you wrong. Think of me as you please. I am not going to do my duties for a while but instead will concentrate on speaking out about the wrong done to me.]
OLIVIA:  Did he write this?   
FESTE:  Ay, madam.            275
DUKE:  This savours not much of distraction. [It doesn't sound much like a letter from a madman.]  
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,            280
Here at my house and at my proper cost.   
[My lord . . . cost: My lord, if it pleases you, I have thought things over and would like you to think of me as a sister-in-law rather than a wife. In a single day, we shall have the weddings of you to Viola and me to Sebastian here at my house and at my cost.]
DUKE:  Madam, I am most apt to embrace your offer.   
[To VIOLA.]  Your master quits you [relieves you of your duties]; and, for your service done him,   
So much against the mettle of your sex, [so difficult for a woman to carry out]
So far beneath your soft and tender breeding;            285
And since you call’d me master for so long,   
Here is my hand: you shall from this time be   
Your master’s mistress [wife].   
OLIVIA:  A sister! you are she.   
Re-enter FABIAN, with MALVOLIO.             290

DUKE:  Is this the madman?   
OLIVIA:  Ay, my lord, this same.   
How now, Malvolio!   
MALVOLIO:  Madam, you have done me wrong,   
Notorious wrong.            295
OLIVIA:  Have I, Malvolio? no. [I have done you wrong? That's not true.]
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,
[Write from . . . phrase: Write down words from it and you will see that your handwriting is the same as that in the letter.] 
Or say ’tis not your seal nor your invention [not the seal you invented to stamp on the wax]:            300
You can say none of this [you can't deny that you wrote the letter]. Well, grant [admit] it then,   
And tell me, in the modesty of honour,   
Why you have given me such clear lights of favour [why you praised me],   
Bade me come smiling and cross-garter’d to you,   
To put on yellow stockings, and to frown            305
Upon Sir Toby and the lighter people [servants];   
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            310
That e’er invention play’d on? tell me why. 
[And, acting . . . me why: And, after I followed your instructions obediently, why did you imprison me in a dark room and have a priest visit me? I was made the most laughable fool that was ever a victim of trickery. 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            315
First told me thou wast mad; then [you] cam’st in smiling,   
And in such forms which here were presuppos’d   
Upon thee in the letter. Prithee, be content:
[And in  . . . content: And wearing such clothes as those described in the letter. Please be content.]
This practice [trick] hath most shrewdly pass’d upon thee;   
But when we know the grounds and authors of it,            320
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,            325
[And let . . . hour: Let no quarrel or brawl spoil the goodwill of this moment.]
Which I have wonder’d at. In hope it shall not,   
Most freely I confess, myself and Toby   
Set this device against [played this trick on] Malvolio here,   
Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts   
We had conceiv’d against him. Maria writ            330
The letter at Sir Toby’s great importance;   
In recompense whereof he hath married her.   
[Upon some . . . married her: We did it to get back at him for his haughty and discourteous manner toward us. Maria wrote the letter at Sir Toby's request. As recompense for her, he 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            335
That have on both sides past. 
[How with . . . past: The merry mischief with which we carried out the trick ought to make you laugh rather than desire to punish us. After all, the offenses suffered  by us and by Malvolio seem to balance out.]
OLIVIA:  Alas, poor fool [referring to Malvolio], how have they baffled thee!   
FESTE:  Why, "some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrown upon them." I was one [a participant], sir, in this interlude; one Sir Topas, sir; but that’s all one [but that doesn't matter]. "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.  
[Why, "some . . . revenges: In this passage, Feste quotes from the letter words that Malvolio repeated in front of the hidden tricksters. Feste also quotes words that Malvolio spoke as the plot against him was unfolding. Finally, Feste says that time eventually sees that a person who acts offensively gets what's coming to him.]
MALVOLIO:  I’ll be reveng’d on the whole pack of you.  [Exit.   
OLIVIA:  He hath been most notoriously abus’d.            340
DUKE:  Pursue him, and entreat him to a peace;—   
He hath not told us of the captain yet:  [see lines 253-257 for the previous reference to the captain]
When that is known and golden time convents [and the time is convenient],   
A solemn combination shall be made   
Of our dear souls. Meantime, sweet sister,            345
[A solemn . . . souls: A wedding ceremony shall be held to unite our dear souls.]
We will not part from hence. Cesario, come;   
For so you shall be [called], while you are [in the clothes of] a man;   
But when in other habits [a woman's clothes] you are seen [you will be regarded as],   
Orsino’s mistress, and his fancy’s queen.  [Exeunt all except Feste.   
[Exeunt: Everyone leaves the stage except Feste.]
FESTE:  When that I was and a little tiny boy [When I was a little boy],
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain;
A foolish thing was but a toy [a foolish thing was just a toy],
For the rain it raineth every day.
But when I came to man’s estate [But when I arrived at manhood],
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain;
’Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gates [men locked their doors against knaves and thieves],
For the rain it raineth every day.
But when I came, alas! to wive [to marry],
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain;
By swaggering could I never thrive [by showing off I could never thrive],
For the rain it raineth every day.
But when I came unto my beds [But when I came unto my resting place]
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain;
With toss-pots still had drunken heads, [With drunkards as my bedfellows]
For the rain it raineth every day.
A great while ago the world begun,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain;
But that’s all one [but that doesn't matter], our play is done,
And we’ll strive to please you every day.

About the Author

Michael J. Cummings, a native of Williamsport, Pa., was a public-school teacher, journalist, freelance writer, author, and college instructor before retiring and devoting his time to writing. He graduated from King's College in Wilkes-Barre, Pa., and undertook additional studies at Elmira (N.Y) College and Lycoming College in Williamsport. He also underwent training at the American Press Institute. Mr. Cummings is the author of five print books, ten e-books, and more than 2,500 newspaper and magazine articles. Among those he interviewed over the years were actors Peter Ustinov and Dennis Weaver, Merrill-Lynch chairman William Schreyer, Indy race-car champion Rick Mears, and George W. Bush (while he was running for vice president of the United States on Ronald Reagan's ticket). Mr. Cummings continues to reside in his hometown.