All language subtitles for Twelfth.night.1955.EN

LENFILM 1955

William Shakespeare's
Twelfth Night

Scenario development and staging
Yan Frid

Director - A. Abramov
Director of Photography - Ye. Shapiro

Operator - K. Ryzhov
Production design - S. Malkin

English subtitles : William Shakespeare

Cast:
Viola & Sebastian - K. Luchko

Olivia - A. Larionov

Duke Orsino - V. Medvedev

Sir Toby - M. Yanshin

Sir Andrew - G. Vitsin

Malvolio, the steward - V. Merkuryev

Feste, the jester - B. Freundlich

Mary, the maid - A. Lisyansky

Fabian, a servant - Filippov

# If the heart believes in happiness,

# the sun will change the storm,

# and victories - the fight!

# Hearts glad anxiety,

# Hearts' joyful struggle.

Viola!

Sebastian!

My brother died in the waves.
Perchance he is not drown'd?

- What do you think?
- It is perchance that you yourself were sav'd.

- What country, friend, is this?
- This is Illyria, lady.

- Know'st thou this country?
- Ay, madam, well,

for I was bred and born
not three hours' travel from this very place.

Well, well.

My father left behind him
myself and a sister, both born in an hour.

But some hour before you took me
from the breach of the sea
was my sister drown'd.

Will you stay no longer?

Nor will you not that I go with you?

By your patience, no.

My stars shine darkly over me.

Sebastian!

If you will not murder me for my love,
let me be your servant.

My dear Antonio, I can answer that.
I just say thank you!

Come with me, and see the city.

- Who is this?
- The lord of this place.

A noble Duke, in nature as in name.

- What is his name?
- Orsino.

Orsino.

There was a rumour
that he did seek the love of fair Olivia.

- What's she?
- A virtuous maid,

the daughter of a count that died some twelvemonth since,
then leaving her in the protection of his son, her brother,

who shortly also died; for whose dear love, they say,
she hath abjur'd the company and sight of men.

Captain, I prithee, and I'll pay thee bounteously,

conceal me what I am,
and help me disguise myself as a boy.

Right now!

I'll serve this Duke:

What else may hap, to time I will commit;

only shape thou silence to my wit.

Be you his boy, and your mute I'll be.

- How now! What news from her?
- So please my lord, I was not admitted,

I was sent this answer:

The element itself, till seven years' heat,
shall not behold her face at ample view;

But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk
and water once a day her chamber round
with eye-offending brine.

# No colours, no colours ...

# in black coffin buried.

# No friends, no friends ...

# In the darkness I did not just fold.

# The tomb let me lie solitary,

# Not to come over her, cry love ...

# Love.

# There dwelt a man in Babylon
Ai Luli, but tra-la-la.

# lady with him - his wife,
Ai Luli, but tra-la-la.

# He would have lived a happy age,
Ai Luli, but tra-la-la.

# Yes happiness is marred,
Ai Luli, but tra-la-la.

- Ah-ah! Maria!
- Quiet.

By my troth, Sir Toby,
you must come in earlier o' nights;

your cousin, my lady,
takes great exceptions to your ill hours.

Why, let her except before excepted.

That quaffing and drinking will undo you.

And all this because of a foolish knight
that you brought in one night here to be her wooer.

- Who's that?
- Well, this one.

- Sir Andrew Aguecheek.
- That's it! Aguecheek.

He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria.

- Well, so what?
- So what?

Why, he has 3000 ducats a year.

Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats.

He's a very fool and a prodigal.

Who is?

They that add, moreover,
he's drunk nightly in your company.

Yes, but with drinking healths to my niece.

I also drink to the health of my niece

as long as there is a passage in my throat
and drink in Illyria.

Sir Andrew Aguecheek.

Ah! Sir Toby.

Sir Toby ...

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.

No question.

Sir Toby, I'll ride home to-morrow.

Pourquoi, my dear knight?

Your niece will not be seen;

or, if she be, it's four to one
she'll none of me:

- The Duke himself here hard by wooes her.
- She'll none o' th' Duke.

She'll not match above her degree,
neither in estate, years, nor wit,

I have heard her swear't.

- Really?
- So all is not lost, my dear!

I have been serving with the Duke Orsino.

If the Duke continues these favours towards you,
Cesario, you are like to be much advanc'd.

He hath known you but three days,
and already you are no stranger.

Thank you, Signori, thank you!

Call for Cesario.

Cesario!

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
till thou have audience.

Sure, my noble lord, if she be so abandon'd to her sorrow
as it is spoke, she never will admit me.

Be clamorous and leap all civil bounds
rather than make unprofited return.

- Say I do speak with her, what then?
- Then ...

O, then unfold the passion of my love,
surprise her with discourse of my dear faith!

It shall become thee well to act my woes;

she will attend it better in thy youth
than in a nuncio's of more grave aspect.

- I think not so, my lord.
- Dear lad, believe it.

For they shall yet belie thy happy years,
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.

Prosper well in this, and thou shalt live as freely
as thy lord, to call his fortunes thine.

I'll do my best to woo your lady.

Run. Hurry!

Yet, a barful strife!

Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife.

Where to, Tuscan?

- Yet you will be hang'd for being so long absent;
- Let them hang ...

Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage.

Peace, you rogue, here comes my lady.

Wit, and 't be thy will,
put me into good fooling!

For, as they say,
'better a witty fool than a foolish wit.'

- God bless thee, lady.
- Take the fool away.

Do you not hear, fellows?

- Take away the lady.
- Go to, you're a dry fool.

Go to, I'll no more of you:
besides, you grow dishonest.

My friends! The lady bade take away the fool;

therefore, I say again, take her away.

- Sir, I bade them take away you.
- Misprision in the highest degree!

Good madonna,
give me leave to prove you a fool.

- Can do it?
- Dexteriously, good madonna.

Make your proof.

I must catechize you for it, madonna.

Well, sir, for want of other idleness,
I'll bide your proof.

- Good my mouse of virtue, answer me.
- I will.

Good madonna, why mourn'st thou?

Good fool, for my brother's death.

I think his soul is in hell, madonna.

I know his soul is in heaven, fool.

The more fool, madonna, to mourn
for your brother's soul being in heaven.

Take away the fool, gentlemen.

What think you of this fool, Malvolio?

Infirmity, that decays the wise,
doth ever make the better fool.

I marvel your ladyship takes delight
in such a barren rascal.

O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio.

To be generous, guiltless, and of free disposition,

is to take those things for bird-bolts that you deem cannon bullets

Madam, there is at the gate
a young gentleman.

Go you, Malvolio.

If it be a suit from the Duke,
I am sick, or not at home;

What you will, to dismiss it.

Close the gates!

Madam, yond young fellow swears
he will speak with you.

Tell him he shall not speak with me.

Has been told so; and he says,
he'll stand at your door like a sheriff's post,
but he'll speak with you.

- What kind o' man is he?
- Why, of mankind.

What manner of man?

Of very ill manner; he'll speak with you,
will you or no.

Of what personage and years is he?

Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough for a boy;
as a squash is before 't is a peascod,

't is with him in standing water, between boy and man,
one would think his mother's milk were scarce out of him.

- Let him approach.
- Yes, ma'am.

Sir!

We'll once more hear Orsino's embassy.

The honourable lady of the house,
which is she?

Speak to me; I shall answer for her.

Your will?

Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable beauty!

I pray you, tell me if this be the lady of the house,
for I never saw her:

I would be loth to cast away my speech;

for, besides that it is excellently well penn'd,
I have taken great pains to con it.

Are you a comedian?

No, my profound heart.

Are you the lady of the house?

If I do not usurp myself, I am.

And I allow'd your approach
rather to wonder at you than to hear you.

Will you hoist sail, sir?
Here lies your way.

No, good swabber;
I am to hull here a little longer.

Some mollification for your giant, sweet lady.
Tell me your mind; I am a messenger.

Speak your office.

It alone concerns your ear.

Give us the place alone.

Now, sir, what is your text?

- Most sweet lady ...
- Where lies your text?

- In Orsino's bosom.
- In his bosom? In what chapter of his bosom?

To answer by the method,
in the first of his heart.

- of his heart ...
- O, I have read it; it is heresy.

Have you no more to say?

Good madam, let me see your face.

Have you any commission from your lord
to negotiate with my face?

But we will draw the curtain,
and show you the picture.

Is 't not well done?

I see you what you are, you are too proud;

But, if you were the devil,
you are fair.

My Duke loves you!

O, such love could be but recompens'd,
though you were crown'd the nonpareil of beauty!

I cannot love him, he knows my mind.

If I did love you in my master's flame,

with such a suffering, such a deadly life,

in your denial I would find no sense,

- I would not understand it.
- Why, what would you?

Make me a willow cabin at your gate,

and call upon my soul within the house;

write loyal cantons of contemned love,
and sing them loud even in the dead of night;

Hallow your name to the reverberate hills,

And make the babbling gossip of the air
cry out, 'Olivia!'

Olivia!

O, you should not rest between the elements of air and earth,
but you should pity me!

You might do much.

What is your parentage?

Above my fortunes, yet my state is well;
I am a gentleman.

Get you to your lord;
I cannot love him.

Let him send no more;
unless, perchance, you come to me again,

to tell me how he takes it. Fare you well.

I thank you for your pains.
Spend this for me.

I am no fee'd post, lady; keep your purse:

my master, not myself, lacks recompense.

Farewell, fair cruelty.

- Malvolio!
- At your service.

Run after that same peevish messenger,

He left this ring behind him,
tell him I'll none of it.

If that the youth will come this way tomorrow,
I'll give him reasons for't.

- Hie thee, Malvolio.
- I will!

I left no ring with her.

What means this lady?

Fortune forbid my outside have not charm'd her!

Oh, she's in love with me!

Sir Toby, I ...

She ... Sir Toby ... go!

How now, my hearts!

Here comes the fool, i' faith.

Did you never see the picture of 'We Three'?

Where? Here's this?

# Three merry-men be we, Ding-ding-dong.

No, no, no!
We'd better let the clown sing.

Would you have a love-song,
or a song of good life?

Ay, ay; love!

Love!
Such love, love!

- I care not for good life. Well, that is!
- Love. - Love.

# O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O, stay and hear; your true love's coming,

# That can sing both high and low:

# That can sing both high and low:

# Trip no further, pretty sweeting;
Journeys end in lovers meeting,

# Every wise man's son doth know.

# Every wise man's son doth know.

Excellent good, i' faith.

# What is love? 'T is not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;

# What's to come is still unsure.< i>

# 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.

# Youth's a stuff will not endure.

Here!

A mellifluous voice.

Let's sing a pie!

# Three merry-men be we,
Ding - ding - dong.

# Three merry-men be we,
Ding - ding - dong.

# Three merry-men!
Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

# I sleep under a bush, under a bush.

# I sleep under the bridge, under the bridge.

# I'm sleeping on a branch.
Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

# Three merry-men be we,
Ding - ding - dong.

# Three merry-men be we,
Ding - ding - dong.

# Three merry-men!
Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

What's going on?

Oh-oh-oh! Maria!

What a caterwauling do you keep here!

If my lady have not call'd up her steward Malvolio,
and bid him turn you out of doors, never trust me.

Lady! Lady!

- Am I not consanguineous?
- Quiet, I said!

Am I not of her blood?

Lady! Lady!
Tilly-vally, lady!

- Quiet!
- Yes, am I not her uncle?

- Uncle.
- Uncle!

Malvolio's coming!

My masters, are you mad?

Do ye make an alehouse of my lady's house?

Shoo! Shoo!

What ho?

Sir Toby, I must be round 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, and it would please you to take leave of her,
she is very willing to bid you farewell.

And who are you?

Art any more than a steward?

Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous,
there shall be no more cakes and ale?

# Three merry-men be we,
Ding - ding - dong.

# Three merry-men be we,
Ding - ding - dong.

# Three merry-men! Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

Go, sir, rub your chain with crumbs.

Oh, you ... that's ...

A stoup of wine, Maria!

Mistress Mary,

if you priz'd my lady's favour at any thing more than contempt,
you would not give means for this uncivil rule.

She shall know of it, by this hand.

'T were as good a deed to challenge him the field,
and then to break promise with him and make a fool of him.

- Do't, knight!
- I'll write thee a challenge ...

- Do't, knight.
- I will!

- or I'll deliver to him by word of mouth.
- Sweet Sir Toby,

Be patient for to-night, for I shall fool him,

that he would be ridiculed.
- Possess us, tell us something of him!

- Possess you!
- Oh, what to tell about him?

Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of puritan.
- Sycophant!

- Stuffed dhirt! - A turkey!
- Chief ass!

As he thinks, with excellencies,
that all that look on him love him;

and on that vice in him
will my revenge find notable cause to work.

- So what? What wilt thou do, Mary?
- I will ...

I will drop in his way some obscure epistles of love;

wherein he shall find himself most feelingly personated.

Well! Well my word!
You step on.

I can write very like my lady, your niece;
we can hardly make distinction of our hands.

- Got it?
- No.

- Excellent! I smell a device.
- I have't in my nose too.

He shall think, by the letters that thou wilt drop,
that they come from my niece, and that she's in love with him.

That's it!

- O, 't will be admirable!
- Sport royal, I warrant you;

I know my physic will work with him.

- Will act! - For this night,
to bed and dream on the event. Farewell.

Good night, Penthesilea!

- Before me, she's a good wench.
She's a beagle, true-bred,

- and one that adores me.
- I was ador'd once too.

Let's to bed, knight.
Thou hadst need send for more money.

Sir Toby, if I cannot recover your niece,
I am a foul way out.

This little life will be done, Sir Toby.

Send for money, knight;
if thou hast her not i' th' end, call me cut.

# What is love? 'T is not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;

# What's to come is still unsure.

# 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.

# Youth's a stuff will not endure.

# Youth's a stuff will not endure.

Will you go hunt, my lord?

- What, Curio?
- The hart.

Am I not turn'd into a hart;
and my desires e'er since pursue me.

Cesario, if ever thou shalt love,
in the sweet pangs of it remember me.

Let's listen to his tune awhile.

For such as I am all true lovers are,
unstaid and skittish in all motions else,

save in the constant image of the creature that is belov'd.

How dost thou like this tune?

It gives a very echo to the seat
where love is thron'd.

Thou dost speak masterly.

My life upon 't, young though thou art,
thine eye hath stay'd upon some favour that it loves.

- A little, by your favour.
- What kind of woman is 't?

- Of your complexion.
- She is not worth thee, then.

- What years, i' faith?
- About your years, my lord.

Too old, by heaven!

Let still the woman take an elder than herself;
so sways she level in her husband's heart.

I think it well, my lord.

For women are as roses, whose fair flower,
being once display'd, doth fall that very hour.

And so they are:

Alas, that they are so;
to die, even when they to perfection grow!

My boy!

Once more, get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty.

- Tell her my love, more noble than the world ...
- But if she cannot love you, sir?

I cannot be so answer'd.

Sooth, but you must.

Say that some lady hath for your love
as great a pang of heart as you have for Olivia...

There is no woman's sides can bide
the beating of so strong a passion
as love doth give my heart.

- Ay, but I know ...
- What dost thou know?

What love women to men may owe!

My father...

had a daughter lov'd a man.

As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman,
I should your lordship.

And what's her history?

She never told her love. She sat,
like patience on a monument, smiling at grief.

Was not this love indeed?

We men may say more, swear more.

- Sir, shall I to this lady?
- Ay, that's the theme.

Give her this jewel,

Say, my love can give no place, bide no denay.

What employment have we here?

"To the unknown beloved"

"this, and my good wishes"

These be her very C's,
her U's, and her T's;

and thus makes she her great P's.

To whom should this be?

This wins him, liver and all.

"Jove knows I love; but who?"

"Lips, do not move; no man must know."

'No man must know.'
If this should be thee, Malvolio?

"I may command where I adore;

"But silence, like a Lucrece knife,

"With bloodless stroke my heart doth gore:

"M, O, A, L, doth sway my life."

"M, O, A, L, doth sway my life."

MOAL doth sway my life.

LAOM doth sway my ...
Nay, but first, let me see.

"Some are born great, some achieve greatness,
and some have greatness thrust upon 'em."

"Thy Fates open their hands;
remember who commended thy yellow stockings,

"and wish'd to see thee ever cross-garter'd.

"Go to, thou art made, if thou desir'st to be so;

"Farewell.
THE FORTUNATE-UNHAPPY.

This is open: my lady loves me!

What a rogue!

Be calm, Malvolio.

Don't die of happiness.

I will be proud!

I will read political authors.

I will wash off gross acquaintance.

I will be strange, stout,
in yellow stockings, and cross-garter'd,

even with the swiftness of putting on.

Here is yet a postscript.

"Thou canst not choose but know who I am.

If you respond to my love,
let your smile be a sign.

"If thou entertain'st my love,
let it appear in thy smiling.

"Thy smiles become thee well;
therefore in my presence still smile,
dear my sweet, I prithee."

I will smile.

I will do everything
that thou wilt have me.

Does it work upon him?

Like aqua-vitae with a midwife.

Well, then!

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 't is a colour she abhors;

and cross-garter'd, 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.

Would you'd pardon me;
I do not without danger walk these streets.

Once, in a sea-fight, 'gainst Orsino's galleys I did some service;

of such note indeed, that, were I ta'en here,
it would scarce be answer'd.

- Do not then walk too open.
- It doth not fit me.

Why I your purse?

Haply your eye shall light upon some toy
you have desire to purchase;
and your store is not for idle markets.

I'll be your purse-bearer, and leave you for an hour.
To th' Elephant.

I do remember.

# I am alone, I am sad,

# A range of spring blooms.

# Where are you my dear, come.

# If you're in my bosom

# wearing a flaming heart.

# I love you in the evening,
Kiss you many times,

# How much do you ask me.

# I am alone, I am sad,

# A range of spring blooms.

- How now, Malvolio!
- Sweet lady, ho, ho.

Smil'st thou?
I sent for thee upon a sad occasion.

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 ...

# Around blooms spring.

Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio?

Already?

Ay, sweet-heart, and I'll come to thee.

What is this? How do you do, Malvolio?

At your request?
Yes, nightingales answer daws!

Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady?

'Be not afraid of greatness.'
'Twas well writ.

"Some are born great, some achieve greatness,
and some have greatness thrust upon them."

- What is he saying?
- Crazy!

- 'Remember who commended thy yellow stockings ...
- Thy yellow stockings!

'And wish'd to see thee cross-garter'd.'

'Go to, thou art made, if thou desir'st to be so;'—

Why, this is very midsummer madness.

Madam, the young gentleman of the Duke Orsino's is return'd.

Late!

Let cousin Toby have a special care of him.

No worse man than Sir Toby to look to me.

- How is 't with you, sir?
- Get off!

- How is 't with you, man?
- And you, personally, you ...

Go off; I discard you:
let me enjoy my private;

Go off!

Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him!

Why, how now, my bawcock!

- How dost thou, chuck?
- All well, my rooster.

Good Sir Toby, get him to pray.

My prayers, minx!
Go, hang yourselves all!

You are idle shallow things.
You shall know more hereafter.

- How do you feel?
- In his closet! In the closet!

My niece is already in the belief that he's mad.

- What is your name?
- Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess.

My servant, sir!
You're servant to the Duke Orsino, youth.

He is yours, and I am a servant to him.

He has forgotten me.

Madam, I come to whet
your gentle thoughts on his behalf.

O, by your leave, I pray you,
I bade you never speak again of him;

- But, would you undertake another suit ...
- Dear lady ...

After the last enchantment you did here,
I did send a ring in chase of you.

- So, let me hear you speak.
- I pity you.

- That's a degree to love.
- No, not a grize.

The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.

Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you.

Grace and good disposition
attend your ladyship!

You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?

# Long since created a silly light
Ai Luli, but tra-la-la.

# I once got drunk,
Ai Luli, but tra-la-la.

# And in a dirty pit found myself
And he went on singing, ah tra-la-la!

Sir Toby!

- Sir Toby - On!
- Do not.

Sir Toby, no, faith, I'll not stay a jot longer.

Why not?

Thy reason, dear venom, give thy reason.

You must needs yield your reason, Sir Andrew.

Marry, I saw your niece do more favours
to the Duke's serving-man Cesario
than ever she bestow'd upon me; I saw 't i' th' orchard.

I am not one to complain.

- Well, tell me, my rascal...
- Yes!

- Did she see thee the while, old boy?
- Yes?

As plain as I see you now.

- Ay-ay-ay-ay!
- Ay-ay-ay-ay!

What?

This was a great argument of love in her toward you.

- Yes?
- Yes!

What? You what?

'Slight, will you make an ass o' me?

- How could we when when you're...
- ... our dear kitten.

Well, I've had enough!

I will prove it legitimate, sir.

She did show favour to the youth in your sight ...

only to exasperate you,
to awake your dormouse valour,

to put fire in your heart,
and brimstone in your liver.

- Where?
- In the liver!

Challenge me the Duke's youth to fight with him;
hurt him ...

- Oh!
- In eleven places. - Yes!

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.

- Yes?
- Yes!

- There is no way but this, Sir Andrew.
- No!

Will either of you bear me a challenge to him?

- Go, write it in a martial hand.
- Well, that's ...

Be curst and brief,
and most important, abuse him with ink.

Where shall I find him?
I go!

Stay: I prithee,
tell me what thou think'st of me.

That you do think you are not what you are.

If I think so, I think the same of you.

Then think you right, I am not what I am.

Cesario, by the roses of the spring,
by maidhood, honour, truth, and every thing,

I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride,
nor wit nor reason can my passion hide.

No! By innocence I swear, and by my youth,
I have one heart, one bosom, and one truth,

and that no woman has; nor never none
shall mistress be of it, save I alone.

And so adieu.

Never more will I my master's tears to you deplore.

Fool, Hurry!
Quickly go now. Get him back here!

He's coming!

Gentleman, God save thee!

And you, sir.

Of what nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know not; but thy intercepter,

bloody as the hunter, attends thee at the orchard-end.

You mistake, sir.

I am sure no man hath any quarrel to me.

You'll find it otherwise!

Therefore, if you hold your life at any price,
betake you to your guard.

I pray you, sir, what is he?

He is knight,
but he is a devil in private brawl.

I beseech you, do me this courteous office,
as to know of the knight what my offence to him is.

I will do so.

Signior Fabian, stay you by this gentleman
till my return.

- Mondrata pupa mondrata pa!
- That's right - the navel!

- Sir ...
- No!

He is, indeed, sir, the most skilful, bloody,
and fatal opposite

that you could possibly
have found in any part of Illyria.

Why, man, he's a very devil!

I have not seen such a firago.

They say he has been fencer to the Shah of Persia.

Pox on 't, Sir Toby, I'll not meddle with him.

Ay, but he will not now be pacified;
Fabian can scarce hold him yonder.

Plague on't. If I knew he had been valiant
and so cunning in fence,

I'd never have challeng'd him.

Let him let the matter slip,
and I'll give him my horse, gray Capilet.

- I'll make the motion.
- Make it.

Stand here, make a good show on 't.

This shall end without the perdition of souls.

- Shall it?
- Perchance ...

Hold on.

Hey!

I have his horse to take up the quarrel.
I have persuaded him the youth 's a devil.

He is as horribly conceited of him.

Oh, my God!

Come, Sir Andrew, there's no remedy.

The gentleman will, for his honour's sake,
have one bout with you,

but he has promis'd me, he will not hurt you.

If only I'd stayed honest, now I fear 'tis too late.

There's no remedy, sir:
he will fight with you for's oath sake.

But for the supportance of his vow,
he protests he will not hurt you.

Believe me, sir,
it is against my will.

Pray God defend me!

A little thing would make me tell them
how much I lack of a man.

Give ground, if you see him furious.

Yes! Of course ...

Begin!

Go on!

You then, what?

Well, well!

Where is he?

Well, what do you ...
Well! Well, well!

So be it! So!

Put up your sword.
If this young gentleman have done offence,

I take the fault on me;
If you offend him, I for him defy you.

- You, sir, who are you?
- Why, what are you?

One, sir, that for his love dares yet do more
than you have heard him brag to you he will.

There is yours!

O good Sir Toby, hold! Here come the officers.

Over there!

I'll be with you anon.

Antonio, I arrest thee
at the suit of the Duke Orsino.

- You do mistake me, sir.
- No, sir, no jot!

I know your favour well,
without a sea-cap.

Get him!

Off! Out of the way.

I must obey.

What will you do, now my necessity
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.

Come, sir, away!

- I must entreat of you some of that money.
- What money, sir?

For the fair kindness you have show'd me here,
out of my lean and low ability I'll lend you something.

- My having is not much.
- How?

Will you deny me now?

- Is 't possible that you forget everything
that I have done for you?

I know of none.

- Oh, heavens ...
- Come, sir, away!

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,

and to his image ...

which methought did promise
most venerable worth, did I devotion.

Take me!

Will you make me believe
that I am not sent for you?

Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow.

Well held out, i' faith!

No, I do not know you;
nor I am not sent to you by my lady,

nor your name is not Master Cesario;
nor this is not my nose neither.

In short, nothing that is so is so.

- I prithee, leave me alone.
- Tell me what I shall vent to my lady?

- Shall I vent to her that thou art coming?
- I prithee, foolish Greek, depart from me.

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;

A coward, a most devout coward, religious in it.

'Slid, I'll after him again and beat him.

Now, sir, have I met you again? there 's for you.

Why, there 's for thee, and there, and there.

Hold, sir, or I'll throw your dagger o'er the house.

Let go thy hand.

I will not let you go.
You are well flesh'd.

Put up your iron.

- If thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword.
- What, what?

Nay, then I must have an ounce or two
of this malapert blood from you.

Sir, leave it to me, I can handle him.

I'll put him on trial for beating.

I'll go warn my mistress.

Hold, Toby. On thy life, I charge thee, hold!

Ungracious wretch, out of my sight!

He is not worthy of your wrath.

Let's go. Please trust me in everything.

If you mean well, now come with me
into the chantry by.

There, underneath that consecrated roof,
plight me the full assurance of your love.

Father, I'm not crazy.

They shut me here
in this hideous darkness.

Madman. You are mistaken.
There is no darkness but ignorance.

Father,
I am also in my mind, just like you.

Then you are really mad
if not more in mind than a fool.

Amen!

- Amen!
- They're all crazy.

Open ye!

Open ye!

I'll follow this good man, and go with you;

and, having sworn truth, ever will be true.

Nightmare...

Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me.
He stood up for me, sir.

I know him well.
Notable pirate! Thou salt-water thief!

I never yet was thief or pirate,
though, I confess, Orsino's enemy.

Now is not the time. Follow me.

He's coming!

What would my lord, but that he may not have,
wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?

Gracious Olivia ...

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

it is as fat and fulsome to mine ear as howling after music.

- Still so cruel?
- Still so constant.

What, to perverseness? You uncivil lady!

So, that's it!

But hear me this:

Since you to non-regardance cast my faith,

and that I partly know the instrument
that screws me from my true place in your favour,

live you the marble-breasted tyrant still;
but this your minion,

whom I know you love, and whom I tender dearly,
him will I tear out

of that cruel eye,
where he sits crowned in his master's spite.

Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mischief;

I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love,
to spite a raven's heart within a dove.

And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly,
to do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.
- Follow me!

Where goes Cesario?

After him I love more than I love these eyes,
more than my life.

More, by all mores, than ere I shall love wife.

- Ay me, detested! how am I beguil'd!
- Who does beguile you? Who does do you wrong?

Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long?

- Call forth the holy father.
- Follow me!

Whither, my lord? Cesario, husband, stay.

- Husband?
- Husband.

- Can he that deny?
- Her husband!

- No, my lord, not I.
- Cesario!

Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence,

here to unfold what thou dost know
hath newly pass'd between this youth and me.

A contract of eternal bond of love,
confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands,

attested by the holy close of lips,
strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings.

Oh!

O thou dissembling cub! What wilt thou be
when time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy case?

Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feet
where thou and I henceforth may never meet.

I do protest ...

O, do not swear!
Hold little faith, though thou has too much fear.

For the love of God, a surgeon!

Send one presently to Sir Toby.

- What happened?
- My Duke,

one has broke my head across
and has given Sir Toby a bloody coxcomb too.

Who has done this, Sir Andrew?

The Duke's gentleman, one Cesario.
- Cesario?

Cesario ... Oh!
Dear God, dear ...

'Od's lifelings, here he is!
You broke my head for nothing.

What have I?
I never hurt you.

You drew your sword upon me without cause;
but I bespake you fair, and hurt you not.

Who has tormented you so, Uncle Toby?

I am sorry, madam, I have hurt your kinsman,

but, had it been the brother of my blood,
I must have done no less with wit and safety.

- Incredible!
- You throw a strange regard upon me.

One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons,
a natural perspective, that is and is not!

My poor brother!

- The victim was Sebastian!
- My sister!

Viola has risen!

My boy!

Thou hast said to me a thousand times
thou never shouldst love woman like to me.

And all those sayings will I over-swear;

My lord, so please you, these things further thought on,
to think me as well a sister as a wife,

one day shall crown th' alliance on 't, so please you,
here at my house, and at my proper cost.

Madam, I am most apt t' embrace your offer.

Madam, you have done me wrong,
notorious wrong.

- Have I, Malvolio?
- Lady, you have! Pray you peruse that letter.

Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing,
though, I confess, much like the character.

But out of question 't is Maria's hand.

Good madam, hear me speak;
all this is a joke!

Maria writ the letter at Sir Toby's great importance;

in recompense whereof he hath married her.

Alas, poor fool, how have they baffl'd thee!

I was one, sir, in this interlude;

one Sir Topas, sir; but that 's all one.

The scoundrel!

I'll be reveng'd on the whole pack of you.

- He hath been most notoriously abus'd.
- Pursue him, and entreat him to a peace.

Cesario, come!

for so you shall be, while you are a man;

but, when in other habits you are seen,
Orsino's mistress and his fancy's queen

and joy!

# When the heart believes in happiness,

# The sun replaces the storm,

# And victories - the fight!

# Heart glad anxiety,

# Joyful Heart - fight!

# Let the cold and night, storm,

# Those who are made for each other,

# All the same fate will bring.

# Destroy all obstacles,

# Supportive fate!

# God of love wandering through the world,

# God of love found everywhere,

# Separated hearts.

# God of love unites,

# Separated hearts!

THE END