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.
Listen, either tell me where you've been, or I won't open my lips even wide enough for a single bristle to get through by way of excuse. My lady will have you hanged for being gone so long.
Look, either you tell me where you've been, or I'm literally shutting up and not hearing your excuses. Olivia's going to kill you for disappearing like this.
tell me where u were or im done listening. lady's gonna hang u fr
Let her hang me: he that is well hanged in this world needs to fear no
colours.
Let her hang me—anyone who's well hanged in this world has nothing to fear.
Go ahead and hang me—a well-hanged man doesn't fear anything.
let her hang me idc
Make that good.
Prove it.
Prove that.
prove it
He shall see none to fear.
He will see nothing worth fearing.
He won't have anything to worry about.
nothing scary
A good lenten answer. I can tell thee where that saying was born, of I
fear no colours.
That's a very thin answer. I can tell you where that saying—'I fear no colors'—originally came from.
That's a pretty weak response. But I know exactly where that whole 'fear no colors' thing got started.
that's a weak excuse lmao. i know where that comes from tho
Where, good Mistress Mary?
Where did that saying come from, Mistress Mary?
Where's that from, Mistress Mary?
where from
In the wars, and that may you be bold to say in your foolery.
In warfare. And you can safely use it in your foolish act.
In the wars. And you can use that line—it fits your act.
in war. u can say it as a fool
Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those that are fools, let
them use their talents.
May those with wisdom use it, and those who are fools should use whatever talents they have.
Let the wise be wise, and fools do what they do.
wise ppl b wise fools b fools
Yet you will be hanged for being so long absent; or to be turned away;
is not that as good as a hanging to you?
Still, you'll be hanged for being away so long, or you'll be dismissed from service. Isn't being thrown out the same as hanging for you?
Look, you're either going to get yourself hanged for disappearing, or you'll get fired. Either way, you're done for.
youre getting hanged or fired. thats the same thing right?
Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage; and for turning away, let
summer bear it out.
Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage, and if I lose my job, well, I'll get through the summer somehow.
Honestly, hanging beats getting stuck in a bad marriage, and I'll figure out the rest when summer comes around.
hanging > bad marriage. summer will sort me out
You are resolute then?
So you're truly determined, then?
So you're sticking with that?
u sure
Not so, neither, but I am resolved on two points.
Not entirely, but I am resolved on two specific points.
Not really, but there are two things I'm holding firm on.
nah but im resolved on 2 points
That if one break, the other will hold; or if both break, your gaskins
fall.
That if one of those points breaks, the other will hold you up, or if both snap, your pants will fall down.
So if one thing goes wrong, the other backs you up, and if both fall through, well, your pants are coming off.
one holds u up. if both break yr pants fall. thats ur plan?
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.
Right, quite accurate! Well, go on your way. If Sir Toby would quit drinking, you'd be as clever a woman as anyone in Illyria.
Perfect, you nailed it! But seriously, if Toby stopped his drinking problem, you'd be one of the sharpest women around here.
true true! if toby stopped drinking ull be the smartest girl here
Peace, you rogue, no more o’ that. Here comes my lady: make your excuse
wisely, you were best.
Quiet, you troublemaker, no more of that. Here comes my mistress. You'd better make your excuses carefully.
Stop it, you rascal. Here comes Olivia, so you better think fast about what you're going to say.
shut up. lady coming. make it good
Wit, and’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. God bless thee, lady!
Wit, if you're willing, help me be a good fool! Those who think they have wit often turn out to be fools, while I, who know I lack it, may seem wise. As someone named Quinapalus said, it's better to be a witty fool than a foolish person with wit. God bless you, lady!
Intelligence, help me out and make me good at this fool thing! The people who think they're smart usually end up looking stupid, but me—I know I'm dumb, so I actually come off as wise. Like, the saying goes, better to be a funny idiot than a boring smart guy. God bless you, lady!
wit, help me fool! smart ppl seem dumb. i know im dumb so im wise lol. better witty fool than foolish wit. god bless u
Take the fool away.
Remove this fool from my sight.
Get this fool out of here.
get him out
Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady.
Didn't you hear me, people? Get the lady out of here.
Did you guys not hear that? Take away the lady!
hey did u hear? take her away
Go to, y’are a dry fool; I’ll no more of you. Besides, you grow
dishonest.
Stop that, you're just a dull fool. I'm done with you. Besides, you're becoming dishonest.
Come on, you're just boring and dumb. I'm over it. Plus you're getting shady.
ur just dull. done w u. ur being sketchy too
Two faults, madonna, 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. Anything 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 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.
Two problems, Madonna, that drinking and good advice will fix. If you give a dull fool a drink, he's not dull anymore. If you tell a dishonest man to fix himself and he does, he's no longer dishonest. If he can't, let the mender repair him. Anything that's been repaired is just patched. Virtue that sins is just patched with sin, and sin that improves is just patched with virtue. If this simple logic works, fine. If not, what can we do? There's no true cuckold except through disaster, just like beauty is just a flower. The lady told me to leave, so I'll say it again: take her away.
Two issues, lady, that I can fix with a drink and some solid advice. Give a boring guy a drink, he stops being boring. Tell a crook to straighten up and if he does, he's not a crook anymore. If he can't, let someone patch him up. Everything repaired is just held together by patches anyway—virtue that messes up gets patched with guilt, and guilt that fixes itself gets patched with virtue. If that logic works for you, great. If not, oh well. The only real disaster is betrayal, and beauty's just a temporary flower anyway. You told me to take a hike, so I'm saying it one more time: take the lady away.
two problems: drink & advice fix both. dull fool drinks = not dull. dishonest guy fixes = honest. everything's just patches anyway. so... take her away lol
Sir, I bade them take away you.
I instructed them to take you away.
I meant for them to take you away.
i meant get u out
Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, _cucullus non facit monachum:_
that’s as much to say, I wear not motley in my brain. Good madonna,
give me leave to prove you a fool.
This is mistaken identity of the highest order! Lady, the cowl doesn't make the monk—which is to say, I don't have foolishness inside my head. Good Madonna, let me prove you're a fool.
Whoa, that's a huge misunderstanding! Lady, just because you wear something doesn't mean you become it—like, I'm not actually a fool in my head. Come on, let me show you that you're the fool here.
major misunderstanding! clothes dont make the person. im not really a fool inside. let me prove UR the fool
Can you do it?
Are you actually capable of performing this task?
Really? You can actually do that?
u can actually do that?
Dexteriously, good madonna.
Dexteriously, good madonna.
dexteriously, good madonna.
Dexteriously, good madonna.
Feste's proof that Olivia is a fool runs in exactly four moves. He asks why she mourns. She says for her brother's death. He says her brother's soul is in hell. She corrects him — it's in heaven. He closes: so the more fool you, to mourn for someone already in paradise. The logic is airtight by the rules Olivia herself set up. She cannot answer it because it's true. What makes this Shakespeare's cleverest fool scene is that it doesn't dismiss grief — it exposes the theatrical dimension of grief. Olivia has constructed a performance of mourning that has outlasted its emotional justification. Feste doesn't mock her for feeling sad. He mocks her for wearing the costume of sadness past its use-by date. And she lets him. That leniency — 'there is no slander in an allowed fool' — tells us more about Olivia than any speech she gives herself.
Make your proof.
Make your proof.
make your proof.
Make your proof.
I must catechize you for it, madonna. Good my mouse of virtue, answer
me.
I have to ask you questions about it, Madonna. Dear my gentle lady, answer me.
I need to ask you some questions about it, lady. Be a sweetheart and answer me.
gotta ask u stuff lady. answer me?
Well sir, for want of other idleness, I’ll ’bide your proof.
Well, since I have nothing better to do, I'll wait for your proof.
Fine, I've got nothing better going on anyway. Let's hear your proof.
whatever im bored. show me what u got
Good madonna, why mourn’st thou?
Good Madonna, why are you grieving?
So Madonna, what's got you so sad?
y r u sad
Good fool, for my brother’s death.
Good fool, because my brother is dead.
Because my brother died, silly.
my brother died
I think his soul is in hell, madonna.
I believe his soul must be in hell, Madonna.
His soul's probably in hell, if you ask me.
his soul's in hell imo
I know his soul is in heaven, fool.
I'm certain his soul definitely resides in heaven, fool.
His soul's in heaven, you idiot.
his soul's in heaven u dumbass
The more fool you, madonna, to mourn for your brother’s soul being in
heaven. Take away the fool, gentlemen.
Then you're the bigger fool, Madonna, to grieve for your brother when his soul is in heaven. Take this fool away, gentlemen.
Then you're the real fool here, Madonna, grieving when your brother's in heaven. Get me out of here, guys.
then UR the fool for being sad when hes in heaven. take me away pls
What think you of this fool, Malvolio? doth he not mend?
What do you think of this fool, Malvolio? Isn't he improving?
So what do you think of this fool, Malvolio? He getting any better?
what u think of this fool malvolio? hes getting better right?
Yes; and shall do, till the pangs of death shake him. Infirmity, that
decays the wise, doth ever make the better fool.
Yes, and he will continue to improve until death shakes him. Sickness that destroys the wise always makes the fool better.
Yeah, and he'll keep getting better until he dies. Sickness that ruins smart people always makes fools sharper.
yep until he dies. sickness ruins wise ppl but makes fools sharper
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 twopence that you are no fool.
I hope you get a quick illness, sir, to make your foolishness even greater! Sir Toby swears I'm no fox, but he won't bet two cents that you're not a fool.
I hope you catch something quick to make you even dumber! Toby says I'm not clever, but he wouldn't stake two cents that you're not an idiot.
hope u get sick lol. toby says im not sly but wont bet ur not a fool
How say you to that, Malvolio?
How do you respond to that, Malvolio?
What do you say to that, Malvolio?
what u say to that malvolio
I marvel your ladyship takes delight in such a barren rascal; I saw him
put down the other day with an ordinary fool, that has no more brain
than a stone. Look you now, he’s out of his guard already; unless you
laugh and minister occasion 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'm amazed your Ladyship finds pleasure in such a worthless rascal. I saw him shut down the other day by an ordinary fool with barely any brain. Look, he's already out of ideas unless you laugh and give him something to work with, or he's silenced. I say these smart people who laugh at this kind of fool are no better than the fools' sidekicks.
I'm honestly shocked you even like this worthless jerk. I watched him get completely shut down by a regular idiot who barely has a brain. See, he's already run out of material unless you feed him something to talk about, otherwise he's stuck. I'm telling you, these supposedly smart people who think this kind of fool is funny are just as bad as the fool's hype men.
shocked u like this jerk tbh. saw him get roasted by some dumb guy. hes stuck unless u laugh & give him stuff. smart ppl who think hes funny r just as dumb
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. 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.
Oh, you're in love with yourself, Malvolio, and you judge everything with a sick appetite. To be generous, innocent, and open-minded is to treat harmless jokes as serious threats. There's nothing wrong with a professional fool joking, no matter how harsh. And there's nothing wrong with a careful, thoughtful person giving advice, no matter how harsh.
You're so full of yourself, Malvolio, and your sick taste ruins how you see things. If you're actually generous and open, you treat gentle jokes as real weapons. There's nothing wrong with a professional fool making jokes, even when they're mean. And there's nothing wrong with a serious person giving advice, even when it stings.
ur obsessed w urself malvolio. ur taste is sick. kind ppl see jokes as weapons. fools joking = fine. serious ppl giving advice = fine
Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for thou speak’st well of fools!
Now may Mercury grant you the gift of lying, for you speak well in defense of fools!
May the god of trickery bless you with the ability to lie, because you just made a really good argument for fools!
mercury bless u w lies bc u just defended fools rly well lol
Madam, there is at the gate a young gentleman much desires to speak
with you.
Madam, there's a young gentleman at the gate who very much wants to speak with you.
Lady, there's a young guy at the door who's desperate to talk to you.
lady theres a young guy at gate who rly wants to talk 2 u
From the Count Orsino, is it?
Is he from Count Orsino?
Is he from the Count?
from count orsino?
I know not, madam; ’tis a fair young man, and well attended.
I don't know, madam. He's a good-looking young man with good companions.
I'm not sure, lady. He's pretty handsome and he's got a nice group with him.
idk lady. hes cute & has friends
Who of my people hold him in delay?
Who from my household is keeping him waiting?
Which one of my people is making him wait?
whos making him wait
Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman.
It's Sir Toby, your cousin.
That's Sir Toby, your relative.
its ur cousin sir toby
Fetch him off, I pray you; he speaks nothing but madman. Fie on him!
Get him away from there, please. He talks like a madman. Shame on him!
Get him out of there, please. He's talking complete nonsense. Ugh!
get him away he's talking crazy. ugh
Go you, Malvolio. If it be a suit from the Count, I am sick, or not at
home. What you will, to dismiss it.
Go, Malvolio. If it's a request from the Count, I am sick, or not at home. Whatever you think best, dismiss him.
Go on, Malvolio. If it's from the Count, tell him I'm sick or not home. Just do whatever you need to get rid of him.
go malvolio if it's from the count, i'm sick just dismiss him
Now you see, sir, how your fooling grows old, and people dislike it.
Now you see, sir, how your joking is wearing thin, and people are getting tired of it.
You can see now how your jokes are getting old and stale—people are sick of them.
your jokes are getting old people are tired of them
Thou hast spoke for us, madonna, as if thy eldest son should be a fool:
whose skull Jove cram with brains, for here he comes, one of thy kin
has a most weak _pia mater_.
You speak for us as though your oldest son should be a fool—may Jove grant him brains for his weakness! Here comes someone now, one of your relatives, who has a decidedly weak mind.
You talk like your oldest son is going to be an idiot—let's hope Jove gives him some brains! Here comes one of your family who definitely isn't the sharpest tool in the shed.
ur son's gonna b stupid lol ur relative here aint bright
Viola is sent to deliver Orsino's love to Olivia. For most of the scene she does this competently, if impatiently. But when Olivia asks — 'why, what would you?' — something breaks open. The willow cabin speech is not in anyone's commission. Viola wasn't sent to describe what she would personally do for love. She does it because Olivia asked a real question and Viola, despite everything, gave a real answer. The speech is pure Viola — the willow tree, the songs at midnight, the echoing hills, the air crying 'Olivia.' Orsino never talked like this. His love was always about himself. Viola's hypothetical is about the beloved. Olivia can feel the difference. She falls not for the message but for the messenger, not for what was prepared but for what was volunteered. The speech accidentally does its job too well.
By mine honour, half drunk. What is he at the gate, cousin?
On my honor, he's half drunk. Who's at the gate, cousin?
I swear, he's already half in the bottle. Who is it at the door, cousin?
hes half drunk already. who's at the gate cuz
A gentleman.
A gentleman.
a gentleman.
A gentleman.
A gentleman? What gentleman?
A gentleman? What sort of gentleman is he?
A gentleman? What kind of gentleman?
a gentleman? which one?
’Tis a gentleman here. A plague o’ these pickle-herrings! How now, sot?
There's a gentleman here. Curse these pickled herrings! What's the matter with you?
There's some guy out there. Damn these pickled herrings! What's wrong with you?
theres a guy there. ugh these pickled herrings. whats wrong w u
Good Sir Toby.
Good Sir Toby.
good sir toby.
Good Sir Toby.
Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by this lethargy?
Cousin, cousin, how did you fall into this sleepy state so early in the day?
Cousin, cousin, how did you get so tired and drunk this early?
cuz how r u this drunk already
Lechery! I defy lechery. There’s one at the gate.
Lust! I reject lust. There's someone at the gate.
Lust! I spit on lust. There's a guy at the door.
lust! i reject lust. someones at the gate
Ay, marry, what is he?
Yes indeed, but then who is this fellow?
Right, so who is it?
ok so whos this guy
Let him be the devil an he will, I care not: give me faith, say I.
Well, it’s all one.
Let him be the devil if he wants—I don't care. Give me faith, I say. Well, it doesn't matter.
He can be the devil for all I care. Just give me faith, man. Whatever, it's all the same anyway.
let him be the devil idc. just give me faith. whatever its all good
What’s a drunken man like, fool?
What does a drunk man look like, fool?
What does a drunk guy look like, you fool?
describe drunk guy 4 me
Like a drowned man, a fool, and a madman: one draught above heat makes
him a fool, the second mads him, and a third drowns him.
Like a drowned man, a fool, and a lunatic. One extra drink beyond his normal limit makes him a fool. The second makes him crazy, and the third one drowns him.
Like a drowned guy, an idiot, and a maniac all at once. One drink too many turns him into a fool. The second drink makes him nuts, and the third one kills him.
like a drowned guy, fool, & maniac. one more drink = fool. two = crazy. three = dead
Go thou and seek the coroner, and let him sit o’ my coz; for he’s in
the third degree of drink; he’s drowned. Go, look after him.
Go find the medical examiner and let him check out my cousin because he's at the third stage of drinking—he's basically drowned. Go look after him.
Go get the coroner to look at my cousin because he's three drinks deep—he's basically dead. Go check on him.
get the coroner my cuz is in stage three = drowned. check on him
He is but mad yet, madonna; and the fool shall look to the madman.
He's still just crazy, Madonna, and I, the fool, will look after this madman.
He's just insane right now, lady, and I'll make sure this maniac doesn't hurt himself.
hes just crazy still. ill look after the madman
Madam, yond 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.
Madam, that young man over there insists he will speak with you. I told him you were sick, but he acts like he already knew that, so he came anyway to speak with you. I told him you were asleep, but he seems to have already known that too, so he still came to speak with you. What should we tell him, lady? He's prepared against any rejection.
Lady, that guy's determined to talk to you. I told him you were sick, and he acted like he already knew that, so he came anyway. I told him you were sleeping, and he seemed to already know that too, so he still showed up. What are we supposed to tell him? He's ready for any excuse.
that guy wont give up trying 2 talk 2 u. told him ur sick, he knew. told him ur sleeping, he knew. he wont take no 4 an answer
Tell him, he shall not speak with me.
Tell him he will not speak with me.
Tell him I won't talk to him.
tell him i wont talk 2 him
Has been told so; and he says he’ll stand at your door like a sheriff’s
post, and be the supporter of a bench, but he’ll speak with you.
He's already been told that. He says he'll stand at your door like a permanent post and act like a support for a bench, but he'll still speak with you.
Yeah, he already knows that. He says he'll just camp outside your door like he's nailed there and prop himself up like a bench leg, but he's still getting to talk to you.
he knows that. says hell stand at ur door like a post but hell still talk 2 u
What kind o’ man is he?
What kind of man is he?
What's he like?
what kind of guy is he
Why, of mankind.
Why, of mankind.
why, of mankind.
Why, of mankind.
What manner of man?
What manner of person is he?
What's his personality like?
whats his personality
Of very ill manner; he’ll speak with you, will you or no.
Of very bad manners. He'll speak with you, whether you like it or not.
Terrible manners, honestly. He's going to talk to you no matter what you say.
rude as hell. hes gonna talk 2 u no matter what
Of what personage and years is he?
How old is he and what does he look like?
So what's he look like and how old is he?
hows old is he how does he look
Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough for a boy; as a squash
is before ’tis a peascod, or a codling, when ’tis almost an apple. ’Tis
with him in standing water, between boy and man. He is very
well-favoured, and he speaks very shrewishly. One would think his
mother’s milk were scarce out of him.
Not quite old enough to be a man, but not young enough to be a boy. He's in that in-between state, like an unripe squash before it becomes a pea pod, or a small apple still on the tree. He's right in that middle space between boy and man. He's quite handsome, and he speaks very sharply and harshly. You'd think his mother's milk was barely out of his mouth.
He's not quite grown up but not really a kid either. He's somewhere in the middle, like an unripe squash that hasn't become a pea pod yet, or a tiny apple still growing. He's just caught in that middle ground between child and adult. He's pretty good-looking though, and he talks really sharp and mean. You'd swear he just stopped nursing.
not old enough 4 man, not young enough 4 boy. in between like unripe squash. cute but talks mean. barely weaned lol
Let him approach. Call in my gentlewoman.
Let him approach. Bring in my gentlewoman.
Let him come in. Get my attendant for me.
let him in, get my attendant
Everything the rest of the play does to Malvolio is set up in his approximately six speeches in scene 1-5. He dismisses a professional wit. He insults Olivia's taste. He receives her devastating rebuke — 'you are sick of self-love' — with what looks like humility but is almost certainly resentment. He delivers a perfect description of Cesario while thinking he's registering a complaint. He fails to execute Olivia's orders (she says 'tell him I'm sick or not at home'; he apparently tells the messenger this directly and gets overridden). And then Olivia sends him on the ring errand — a deeply personal mission executed by the most impersonal functionary in the household. Malvolio in this scene is already the person the letter will destroy. Maria doesn't invent his vanity. She just finds the door that's already open.
Gentlewoman, my lady calls.
Lady, my mistress is calling for you.
Lady, the mistress wants you.
lady calling u
Give me my veil; come, throw it o’er my face.
We’ll once more hear Orsino’s embassy.
Give me my veil. Come, throw it over my face. We'll listen once more to Orsino's message.
Give me my veil. Come on, cover my face. Let's hear what Orsino has to say this time.
give me veil. cover my face. lets hear orsino's message again
The honourable lady of the house, which is she?
The respected lady of this house—which one is she?
Which one of you is the lady of the house?
whos the lady here
Speak to me; I shall answer for her. Your will?
Talk to me. I'll answer for her. What do you want?
Talk to me. I'll speak for her. What do you need?
talk 2 me ill answer 4 her. what u want
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 it. Good beauties, let me sustain no
scorn; I am very comptible, even to the least sinister usage.
Most glowing, refined, and unmatched beauty—I'm asking you, tell me if this is the lady of the house, because I've never seen her. I'd hate to waste my carefully written speech, because I've worked really hard to memorize it. Please, beautiful people, don't mock me. I'm very sensitive to even the slightest unkindness.
Most gorgeous, gorgeous, absolutely stunning woman—I need to know if you're the lady of the house because I've never met you. I don't want to waste this speech I spent forever writing and memorizing. Come on, don't laugh at me. I'm really sensitive to even a tiny bit of rudeness.
gorgeous unmatched beauty - r u the lady? never seen u. dont waste my speech. dont mock me im sensitive 2 rudeness
Whence came you, sir?
Where are you from, sir?
Where are you coming from?
where u from
I can say little more than I have studied, and that question’s out of
my part. Good gentle one, give me modest assurance, if you be the lady
of the house, that I may proceed in my speech.
I can barely say anything beyond what I've learned by heart, and your question isn't part of my prepared speech. Please, kind lady, confirm to me that you're the lady of the house so I can continue with what I've planned to say.
Look, I can basically only say what I've memorized, and your question isn't in my script. Come on, just tell me you're the lady so I can get through this thing I prepared.
i can only say what i memorized. ur question isnt in my script. just say ur the lady so i can continue
Are you a comedian?
Are you an actor?
Are you a performer or something?
r u an actor
No, my profound heart: and yet, by the very fangs of malice I swear, I
am not that I play. Are you the lady of the house?
No, dear lady, and I swear by everything I hold dear, I'm not the character I'm pretending to be. Are you the lady of the house?
No way, and I swear to you, I'm not the person I'm acting like. Are you the lady of the house?
nope i swear. im not who im playing. r u the lady
If I do not usurp myself, I am.
If I'm not fooling myself about who I am, then yes, I am.
If I'm being honest with myself, then yeah, I am.
if im being real w myself yea i am
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.
Absolutely certain you do—because what's yours to give away isn't yours to keep back. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I'm going to praise you as planned, and then I'll tell you what I'm really here for.
Definitely you do—because you can't hold onto something that's yours to give. But wait, that's not my main point. Let me give you the compliments I prepared, and then I'll tell you why I'm actually here.
u do bc u cant keep what u can give. anyway lemme praise u first then tell u y im here
Come to what is important in’t: I forgive you the praise.
Get to the important part. I'll skip the compliments.
Just skip to the main point. You don't need to flatter me.
skip the praise get 2 it
Alas, I took great pains to study it, and ’tis poetical.
Alas, I worked hard to memorize it, and it is poetical.
Ugh, I spent forever memorizing it, and it's really poetical.
i memorized it its poetical
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 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.
That probably means it's fake. Please keep it to yourself. I heard you were rude at my gate, and I let you in just to see what you were about, not really to listen to you. If you're crazy, leave. If you have any sense, be quick about it. I'm not in the mood right now to have a silly back-and-forth conversation.
That probably means it's made up. Just save it. I heard you were being jerky at my door, and I let you in just to check you out, not to actually hear a speech. If you're insane, go. If you have any brain, hurry up. I'm just not in the mood for this flaky conversation right now.
prob fake. keep it. heard u were rude at gate. im over this silly back & forth. either leave or hurry up
Will you hoist sail, sir? Here lies your way.
Are you going to sail away now, sir? The door's right there.
You ready to take off, buddy? Here's the door.
u leaving sir? there's the door
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.
No, good sailor, I'm going to anchor here a bit longer. Please, have some patience with your fierce lady. Tell me what's on your mind. I'm a messenger.
No way, good sailor. I'm parking here for a minute. Please be nice to your tough lady. Tell me what you're thinking. I'm here to deliver a message.
nah im staying. be nice 2 ur fierce lady. tell me whats up. im a messenger
Sure, you have some hideous matter to deliver, when the courtesy of it
is so fearful. Speak your office.
Surely you must have some dreadful matter to tell me, given how concerned you're being. Tell me what your purpose is.
You must be delivering something pretty terrible if you're being so careful. What's your business?
must be something bad if ur being this polite. whats ur business
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's only for your ears. I'm not bringing a threat of war or demands for tribute. I'm here in peace—my words are gentle.
This is just for you to hear. I'm not here to threaten you or demand anything. I'm peaceful—my message is kind.
just 4 u. no war no demands. im here in peace
Yet you began rudely. What are you? What would you?
But you started out rudely. What are you? What do you want?
You were pretty rude when you came in though. Who are you? What do you want?
but u were rude at first. who r u what u want
The rudeness that hath appeared in me have I learned from my
entertainment. What I am and what I would are as secret as maidenhead:
to your ears, divinity; to any other’s, profanation.
The rudeness you've seen from me came from how I was treated. What I am and what I want are as private as virginity—to your ears it's sacred knowledge, to anyone else's it would be disrespect.
The rudeness I showed you came from how you treated me. Who I am and what I want are as private as a secret—they're sacred for you to hear, but I'd never tell anyone else.
u were rude first. who i am & what i want r private. sacred 4 u not others
Give us the place alone: we will hear this divinity.
Everyone leave us. We'll listen to this sacred knowledge.
Everyone out. Let's hear what this is about.
everyone leave. lets hear this
Now, sir, what is your text?
Now, sir, what is your main point?
So, sir, what's your argument? What are you here to tell me?
so what's your point?
Most sweet lady—
Most sweet lady—
most sweet lady—
Most sweet lady—
Act 1 ends with two identical structural moments. In scene 4, Viola closes alone with the aside: 'Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife.' In scene 5, Olivia closes alone with the couplet: 'Fate, show thy force; ourselves we do not owe.' Both women are surrendering to love they cannot pursue. Both are doing it in verse, in isolation, directly following the scene that sprung the trap on them. The parallel is not accidental. Shakespeare is showing us that the play's central predicament isn't a plot complication — it's a condition. Desire doesn't ask permission. It doesn't wait for a convenient moment. It arrives on the back of a stranger at the gate, or in the face of the man who sent that stranger, and once it's through the eye, there's nothing to do but acknowledge it and go on. Both women do. That acceptance is the emotional thesis of the whole play.
A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said of it. Where lies your
text?
That's a comforting teaching, and there's a lot that could be said about it. Where is your text?
That's nice to hear, and we could talk about that a lot. Where's your proof?
nice teaching & lots 2 say. where's ur text
In Orsino’s bosom.
In Orsino’s bosom.
in orsino’s bosom.
In Orsino’s bosom.
In his bosom? In what chapter of his bosom?
In his chest? In what section of his heart?
In his heart? Which part of his heart?
in his heart? which chapter
To answer by the method, in the first of his heart.
Following your religious metaphor, in the first chapter of his heart.
Sticking with your metaphor, in the first chapter of his heart.
using ur metaphor in his hearts first chapter
O, I have read it; it is heresy. Have you no more to say?
Oh, I've read that chapter—it's heresy. Do you have anything else to say?
Oh, I've read that—it's wrong. Got anything else?
ive read that its heresy. anything else
Good madam, let me see your face.
I ask you kindly, madam, to show me your face.
Please, let me see your face.
let me c ur face
Have you any commission from your lord to negotiate with my face? You
are now out of your text: but we will draw the curtain and show you the
picture. [_Unveiling._] Look you, sir, such a one I was this present.
Is’t not well done?
Did your lord send you to negotiate with my face? You're breaking from your script, but we'll draw back the curtain and show you the portrait. Look here, sir—this was my appearance just now. Isn't it well painted?
So you're supposed to negotiate with my face? You're improvising, but fine—I'll unveil myself for you. Here's what I looked like recently. Pretty good painting, don't you think?
did ur lord send u to chat me up? we'll show u the pic is it good?
Excellently done, if God did all.
It's excellently painted—if God made all of it.
Perfectly done, if that's all God's work.
perfectly painted if god did it
’Tis in grain, sir; ’twill endure wind and weather.
It's fast-dyed, sir; it will endure wind and weather.
It's permanent, sir; it'll hold up in any weather.
it'll last through anything rain or shine
’Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white
Nature’s own sweet and cunning hand laid on.
Lady, you are the cruel’st she alive
If you will lead these graces to the grave,
And leave the world no copy.
It's beauty truly blended, with red and white that Nature's own skilled hand painted on. Lady, you're the cruelest woman alive if you will take these gifts with you to the grave and leave the world no copy.
Your beauty is perfectly blended—red and white that Nature herself painted skillfully. You're the cruelest person alive, lady, if you'll keep all these gifts to yourself in death and not pass them on to anyone.
ur beauty is perfect—nature painted u u're so cruel keeping all ur gifts for death
O, sir, I will not be so hard-hearted; I will give out divers 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?
Oh sir, I won't be so hard-hearted; I'll make out various inventories of my beauty. It shall be catalogued and every feature and part labeled in my will: for example, item: two moderately red lips; item: two grey eyes with lids to them; item: one neck, one chin, and so on. Were you sent here to praise me?
Oh sir, I'm not that heartless; I'll make lists of my beauty features. I'll inventory everything and put it all in my will: like, two pretty red lips; two grey eyes with lids; one neck, one chin, and all that. So were you sent here to flatter me?
ok not that mean i'll list my features in my will lips, eyes, chin were u sent to flatter me?
I see you what you are, you are too proud;
But, if you were the devil, you are fair.
My lord and master loves you. O, such love
Could be but recompens’d though you were crown’d
The nonpareil of beauty!
I see what you are—you're too proud; but even if you were the devil, you're beautiful. My lord and master loves you. Oh, such love could only be repaid if you were crowned the perfect pinnacle of beauty!
I can see what you are—too proud— but even if you were evil, you're beautiful. My master loves you. Honestly, love like his could only be matched if you were crowned the most perfect beauty alive.
u r too proud but even if u were evil ur beautiful my master loves u that much
How does he love me?
In what way does he show his love for me?
So what exactly does his love look like?
tell me how he loves me
With adorations, fertile tears,
With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.
With worship, abundant tears, with groans that thunder forth love, with sighs burning like fire.
With total adoration, endless tears, with groans that roar with love, with sighs like fire.
with worship, lots of tears groans and sighs of fire
Your lord does know my mind, I cannot love him:
Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble,
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.
Your lord knows my mind—I cannot love him. Yet I believe him virtuous, know him noble, of great wealth, young and unblemished; well spoken of, generous, learned, and brave, and in physique and natural appearance a gracious person. But still I cannot love him. He might have accepted my answer long ago.
Your lord knows how I feel—I can't love him. But I think he's virtuous, I know he's noble, rich, young and pure, well-regarded, generous, smart, and brave, and physically attractive. A graceful person. But I still can't love him. He should have given up asking long ago.
he should know i can't love him he's great—rich, brave, smart, handsome but i just don't love him he should've moved on already
If I did love you in my master’s flame,
With such a suff’ring, such a deadly life,
In your denial I would find no sense,
I would not understand it.
If I loved you with my master's burning passion, with such suffering, such a death-like existence, in your rejection I would find no meaning, I would not comprehend it.
If I loved you the way my master does, with that kind of suffering, that kind of dying, your rejection would make no sense to me, I wouldn't be able to understand it.
if i loved u like that i couldn't handle ur no it would destroy me
Why, what would you?
Well, what would you do?
So what would you do?
what would u do?
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! O, you should not rest
Between the elements of air and earth,
But you should pity me.
I would build a willow cabin at your gate, and cry out to my soul trapped inside the house; write faithful songs about rejected love, and sing them loudly even at midnight; make your name sacred to the echoing hills, and make the gossip of the wind cry out 'Olivia!' You should not rest between the sky and earth, but should take pity on me.
I'd build a cabin of willow branches at your gate, and shout to my heart locked inside your house; write songs about faithful love that's rejected, and sing them loud in the middle of the night; echo your name off the hills, make the wind itself shout 'Olivia!' You shouldn't rest between heaven and earth, but should have mercy on me.
id build a cabin at ur gate id sing love songs at midnight make the world cry ur name u should pity me
You might do much.
What is your parentage?
You could do much. What is your family background?
That's something. So who are your parents?
wow that's a lot whos ur family?
Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:
I am a gentleman.
Better than my current wealth, yet my condition is good: I am a gentleman.
Better than what I have now, but I'm doing fine: I'm a gentleman.
better than my situation but im doing ok—im 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.
Go to your lord; I cannot love him: tell him to send no more, unless by chance you come to me again to tell me how he takes it. Farewell: I thank you for your efforts: take this money.
Go back to your master; I can't love him: tell him to stop sending messages, unless maybe you come back to tell me how he reacts. Goodbye: thank you for your trouble: take this money.
go tell ur master i can't love him maybe come back & tell me how he takes it thanks
I am no fee’d post, lady; keep your purse;
My master, not myself, lacks recompense.
Love make his heart of flint that you shall love,
And let your fervour like my master’s be
Plac’d in contempt. Farewell, fair cruelty.
I am no hired messenger, lady; keep your purse; my master, not myself, lacks what would recompense him. May love make the heart of whoever you love as hard as stone, and may your passion, like my master's, be met with contempt. Farewell, beautiful cruelty.
I'm not a hired messenger, lady; keep your money; my master is the one who deserves payment. May love turn the heart of your beloved to stone, and may your feelings, like my master's, be rejected with scorn. Goodbye, beautiful but cruel woman.
im not hired my master deserves payment may ur love be rejected like his goodbye
What is your parentage?
‘Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:
I am a gentleman.’ I’ll be sworn thou art;
Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions, and spirit,
Do give thee five-fold blazon. Not too fast: soft, soft!
Unless the master were the man. How now?
Even so quickly may one catch the plague?
Methinks I feel this youth’s perfections
With an invisible and subtle stealth
To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.
What ho, Malvolio!
What was he saying about his parentage? 'Better than my current wealth, yet my condition is good: I am a gentleman.' I'll swear you're telling the truth; your voice, your face, your limbs, actions, and spirit all show you're noble five times over. But wait—hold on! Unless the master himself were the one. What's happening? Can you fall in love this quickly, like catching plague? I feel this youth's perfections sneaking in through my eyes—invisible and subtle. Well, let it be. Malvolio!
What was he saying about his family? 'Better off than I am now, but doing well: I'm a gentleman.' I believe him completely; his voice, face, body, actions, everything shows he's noble. But wait, what am I thinking? Unless... what if I'm interested in the wrong person? What's happening to me? Can you fall in love this fast, like catching a disease? I swear I feel his perfections sneaking into me through my eyes. Whatever. Malvolio!
he said hes a gentleman everything about him screams it but what if im falling for him not orsino can u fall this fast i feel it happening
Here, madam, at your service.
I am present and ready to serve you, madam.
I'm right here, ready to do whatever you need.
im here ready 2 help
Run after that same peevish messenger
The County’s man: he left this ring behind him,
Would I or not; tell him, I’ll none of it.
Desire him not to flatter with his lord,
Nor hold him up with hopes; I am not for him.
If that the youth will come this way tomorrow,
I’ll give him reasons for’t. Hie thee, Malvolio.
Run after that same grumpy messenger, the Count's servant: he left me this ring whether I wanted it or not; tell him I won't have it. Tell him not to deceive his lord, nor encourage him with hopes; I am not for him. If that youth comes this way tomorrow, I'll give him my reasons. Hurry, Malvolio.
Go after that irritable messenger, the Count's man: he left me this ring whether I liked it or not; tell him I'm rejecting it. Tell him not to mislead his master, and don't let him hope; I'm not interested. If that boy comes back tomorrow, I'll explain everything to him. Go, Malvolio.
catch that grumpy messenger he left me a ring i don't want tell him to give orsino my no if that boy comes tomorrow i'll explain go
Madam, I will.
Madam, I will.
madam, i will.
Madam, I will.
I do I know not what, and fear to find
Mine eye too great a flatterer for my mind.
Fate, show thy force, ourselves we do not owe.
What is decreed must be; and be this so!
I'm doing something I don't understand, and I'm afraid I'll discover that my eye is too much of a deceiver for my mind. Fate, show your power; we don't own ourselves. What is decreed must be; and let this be so!
I'm doing something I don't even understand, and I'm afraid my eyes are tricking me more than my mind will allow. Fate, take over; we're not in control of ourselves. Whatever is meant to happen will happen; so let it be!
idk what im doing im scared my eyes r fooling me fate do ur thing what will be will be
The Reckoning
Everything up to this point has been setup. This scene is the ignition. Olivia, who has sworn off men and sealed herself in grief, takes one look at a young messenger and forgets everything. The Feste/Malvolio subplot begins here too — Malvolio dismisses the fool in terms so contemptuous that Olivia herself rebukes him. That moment plants the seed that Maria will water into the letter plot. And Viola, stuck in the middle of it all, has to woo someone she doesn't want for someone she can't have. The scene ends with Olivia alone, speaking in quatrains, falling apart with the speed of plague.
If this happened today…
You've been sent by your boss to formally reject a client on his behalf. The client is beautiful, sharp, and absolutely not interested in your boss. But she's interested in you — the messenger. You do your job. You say no on his behalf. You leave. And she calls your cell after you've gone and leaves a voicemail about a jacket you didn't leave behind, just to get your number.