Twelfth Night

by: William Shakespeare

Original Text

Modern Text

What wouldst thou now? If thou darest tempt me further, draw thy sword.
What are you going to do now? If you insist on trying my patience any further, then take out your sword right now.

SIR TOBY BELCH

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

SIR TOBY BELCH

What? No. Because then I’d have to shed an ounce or two of your impudent blood.
SIR TOBY BELCH draws his sword Enter OLIVIA
SIR TOBY BELCH draws his sword. OLIVIA enters.

OLIVIA

40Hold, Toby! On thy life I charge thee, hold!

OLIVIA

Stop, Sir Toby! I order you to stop!

SIR TOBY BELCH

Madam!

SIR TOBY BELCH

Madam!

OLIVIA

Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch,
Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves,
Where manners ne'er were preach’d! Out of my sight!—
45Be not offended, dear Cesario.—
Rudesby, be gone!

OLIVIA

Are you always going to be like this? You’re an ungrateful slob who’s only fit to live in the mountains, in caves far from civilized people where you won’t ever need good manners! Get out of my sight!—Dear Cesario, please don’t be offended.—Get out of here, you barbarian!
Exeunt SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN
SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN exit.
   I prithee, gentle friend,
Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway
In this uncivil and unjust extent
Against thy peace. Go with me to my house,
50And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks
This ruffian hath botched up, that thou thereby
Mayst smile at this. Thou shalt not choose but go.
Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me!
He started one poor heart of mine in thee.
Oh, my dear friend, please don’t get too upset by these rude people who bothered you. Come with me to my house. I’ll tell you about all the pointless, clumsy pranks this thug uncle of mine has come up with, so that you can laugh at this one. You have to come with me. Please don’t say no. Damn that Toby! He made my heart leap for you.

SEBASTIAN

55(aside) What relish is in this? How runs the stream?
Or I am mad, or else this is a dream.
Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep.

SEBASTIAN

(to himself) What does this mean? Where is this all going? Either I’m insane or this is a dream. I hope these