Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare
Act 4 - Scene 1
Before OLIVIA’s house.
Feste : Will you make me believe that I am not sent for you?
Sebastian : Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow:
[p]Let me be clear of thee.
Feste : Well held out, i' faith! No, I do not know you; nor
[p]I am not sent
to you by my lady, to bid you come
[p]speak with her; nor your name is
not Master Cesario;
[p]nor this is not my nose neither. Nothing that
is so is so.
Sebastian : I prithee, vent thy folly somewhere else: Thou
[p]know'st not me.
Feste : Vent my folly! he has heard that word of some
[p]great man and now
applies it to a fool. Vent my
[p]folly! I am afraid this great lubber,
the world,
[p]will prove a cockney. I prithee now, ungird
thy
[p]strangeness and tell me what I shall vent to my
[p]lady: shall
I vent to her that thou art coming?
Sebastian : I prithee, foolish Greek, depart from me: There's
[p]money for thee:
if you tarry longer, I shall give
[p]worse payment.
Feste : By my troth, thou hast an open hand. These wise men
[p]that give fools
money get themselves a good
[p]report--after fourteen years'
purchase.
Sir Andrew Aguecheek : Now, sir, have I met you again? there's for you.
Sebastian : Why, there's for thee, and there, and there. Are all
[p]the people
mad?
Sir Toby Belch : Hold, sir, or I'll throw your dagger o'er the house.
Feste : This will I tell my lady straight: I would not be
[p]in some of your
coats for two pence.
Sir Toby Belch : Come on, sir; hold.
Sir Andrew Aguecheek : Nay, let him alone: I'll go another way to work
[p]with him; I'll have
an action of battery against
[p]him, if there be any law in Illyria:
though I
[p]struck him first, yet it's no matter for that.
Sebastian : Let go thy hand.
Sir Toby Belch : Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young
[p]soldier, put up
your iron: you are well fleshed; come on.
Sebastian : I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou now? If
[p]thou darest
tempt me further, draw thy sword.
Sir Toby Belch : What, what? Nay, then I must have an ounce or two
[p]of this malapert
blood from you.
Olivia : Hold, Toby; on thy life I charge thee, hold!
Sir Toby Belch : Madam!
Olivia : Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch,
[p]Fit for the mountains and
the barbarous caves,
[p]Where manners ne'er were preach'd! out of my
sight!
[p]Be not offended, dear Cesario.
[p]Rudesby, be
gone!
[p][Exeunt SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN]
[p]I prithee,
gentle friend,
[p]Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway
[p]In
this uncivil and thou unjust extent
[p]Against thy peace. Go with me
to my house,
[p]And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks
[p]This
ruffian hath botch'd up, that thou thereby
[p]Mayst smile at this:
thou shalt not choose but go:
[p]Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for
me,
[p]He started one poor heart of mine in thee.
Sebastian : What relish is in this? how runs the stream?
[p]Or I am mad, or else
this is a dream:
[p]Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;
[p]If it
be thus to dream, still let me sleep!
Olivia : Nay, come, I prithee; would thou'ldst be ruled by me!
Sebastian : Madam, I will.
Olivia : O, say so, and so be!
Previous: Act 3 - Scene 4
Next: Act 4 - Scene 2
