TWELFTH NIGHT Play Notes

Synopsis

Note: This synopsis is divided up into "movements" and the scenes are numbered consecutively one through eighteen. This division was done by Twelfth Night director Karin Coonrod in order to more accurately portray her feeling of the dramatic structure of the play, and the playÕs continuously building momentum. The more traditional act and scene divisions are indicated in brackets underneath the movement indications.

Prologue

Feste, the clown, smokes and reads La Monde. Sebastian and Viola are separated in a ship wreck. Orsino and his court come home from walking all night in the rain.

Movement 1, Scene 1

[Act 1, scene 1]

The Court of Orsino, Duke of Illyria. Orsino, in a famous speech that begins "If music is the food of love, play on" speaks of his consuming passion for Olivia, a noblewoman also of Illyria. One of OrsinoÕs courtiers, Valentine, says that Olivia refuses to hear OrsinoÕs message because she intends to remain in seclusion for seven years in memory of her late brother. Orsino only admires her all the more for her loyalty and dedication.

Movement 1, Scene 2

[Act 1, scene 2]

The sea-coast outside of Illyria. Viola, a young aristocrat from another country, and a sea captain have just survived a terrible shipwreck. ViolaÕs brother, Sebastian, was also on board, but Viola fears he may have drowned in the storm and that she is now completely alone in the world (since her parents are both dead). The Captain tells Viola that they have landed in Ilyria, where Orsino is Duke and Olivia is a wealthy heiress. Viola decides to ask Olivia for a position in her household; but the Captain tells the young lady about OrsinoÕs hapless courtship of the mournful Olivia and says Olivia wonÕt allow any visitors of any kind. Viola is charmed by the picture of the lovelorn Count chasing the grieving woman and decides to work for Orsino. Viola pays the Captain to disguise her as a manÑusing clothes from one of her brotherÕs trunks that washed up on shoreÑand then to introduce her to the duke.

Movement 1, Scene 3

[Act 1, scene 3]

OliviaÕs house. Unlike OrsinoÕs Court, where Orsino is clearly in charge of a household united in the sole activity of nurturing OrsinoÕs courtship of Olivia, OliviaÕs household is one of rival factions. Malvolio, the steward, keeps order while Sir Toby, OliviaÕs debauched uncle, creates chaos. Maria, OliviaÕs lady, is aligned with Toby (because she wants to be Lady Belch) but is a rival to Malvolio for control of the houseÕs administration. And Feste, the fool, rivals Malvolio for OliviaÕs time and attention and is the only resident of OliviaÕs household allowed to make fun of his mistressÕ all-consuming grief.

In this scene, Sir Toby Belch is enjoying MariaÕs company and that of his friend Sir Andrew Aquecheek somewhere in the bowels of the house (this scene is often set in OliviaÕs kitchen). Sir Andrew is completely under Sir Toby's control, and is currently the victim of a scheme wherein Toby pretends to arrange for Sir Andrew to marry Olivia in return for Sir AndrewÕs financial support.

Maria tries to talk Toby into reforming his lifestyle without success. Toby successfully talks Andrew out of leaving OliviaÕs house, since Sir Andrew believes that his suit is quite hopeless given OrsinoÕs rivalry for OliviaÕs hand. Sir Toby assures Sir Andrew that Olivia disdains the duke, and Sir Andrew decides to stay.

Movement 1, Scene 4

[Act 1, scene 4]

OrsinoÕs Court. A few weeks later. Valentine assures Viola, now disguised as "Cesario", that Orsino likes "him". Orsino confirms ValentineÕs opinion by sending "Cesario" on the errandÑbearing a love message to Olivia. On her way, Viola confesses that she loves her employer and now is in the unenviable position of convincing another woman to love Orsino as well.

Movement 1, Scene 5

[Act 1, scene 5]

OliviaÕs House. Later that day. Feste has returned from an absence, and Olivia berates him for his truancy. But Feste charms Olivia into both forgiving him and laughing at herself. Malvolio berates Feste for his truancy, but Olivia criticizes Malvolio for disliking anyone who challenges his puritanical austerity. The factions of OliviaÕs house are bubbling away, entertaining Olivia in her period of self-indulgent seclusion.

Into this murky soup walks Viola as OrsinoÕs messenger. On her way in she encounters Maria, Malvolio and Sir Toby. OliviaÕs usual tactics donÕt work since Sir Toby is too drunk to block ViolaÕs entrance. Malvolio in turn reports that the new emissary is more of a boy than a man. Olivia first agrees to see the messenger, and then sends her court away and speaks with "him" alone. Viola woos so charmingly that she wins OliviaÕs heart. Olivia first sends Viola away, but then sends Malvolio to chase after Viola with a ring so that Viola will be obliged to come back.

Movement 2, Scene 6

[Act 2, scene 1]

The Seacoast. ViolaÕs brother Sebastian was saved from the shipwreck by Antonio, a sea captain and sometime pirate. Antonio nursed Sebastian back to health and they have become very close. Sebastian decides to visit Orsino, and insists that Antonio stay behind because Sebastian feels his bad luck may be contagious. Sebastian leaves, and Antonio follows the young man although he is an outlaw in Illyria.

 

Movement 2, Scene 7

[Act 2, scene 2]

A street in Illyria. Malvolio catches up with Viola and gives her OliviaÕs ring. Viola realizes that Olivia has fallen in love with "Cesario." Viola sums up the situationÑshe loves Orsino (and only gets to see him every day because she is disguised as a man), Orsino loves Olivia, and Olivia loves Viola but as a man. Viola decides that only time can undo this tangle.

Movement 2, Scene 8

[Act 2, scene 3]

The bowels of OliviaÕs house. Sir Toby, Sir Andrew and Feste are drinking and singing. It is very late, they are very drunk and very loud. Maria comes in to quiet them down, but itÕs all just too seductive and she doesnÕt want to shut down the party. Finally Malvolio ruins the evening with his bad temper and scolding. Sir Toby mocks Malvolio, who threatens them all with reprisals and leaves. Maria has had enough. She decides to get revenge by writing love letters to Malvolio in OliviaÕs handwriting. In the letters, "Olivia" will make outrageous demands as proof that her love is returned. Maria suspects that Malvolio has a crush on his employer, and will embarrass himself in proving his love.

Movement 2, Scene 9

[Act 2, scene 4]

OrsinoÕs Court. "Cesario" has become OrsinoÕs chief confidante. Orsino talks of his love for Viola, and says he thinks women canÕt love with the fervor and intensity of men. Viola says she knew a woman once who loved a man much like Orsino. Feste, who is visiting from OliviaÕs court, sings a sad love song. Orsino sends "Cesario" back to Olivia.

Movement Two, Scene 10

[Act 2, scene 5]

OliviaÕs House: a secluded Garden or Courtyard. In this scene, one of the comic masterpieces of ShakespeareÕs canon, MariaÕs plot against Malvolio comes to fruition. Maria, Toby, Andrew and Fabian, another of MariaÕs faction, gather to watch behind a boxtree. Maria leaves a letter where Malvolio can find it. Malvolio enters, fantasizing to himself about his crush on Olivia. He imagines himself as her husband, and envisions his happy future chastising Toby as a drunk and insulting Sir Andrew. Malvolio finds the fake letter and believes it to have been written by Olivia. He decides to follow the instructions to smile, insult Toby, and wear funny yellow stockings cross-gartered. He really thinks that his suite will be met with favorably, since the letter clearly states "some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon Ôem." Both Sir Toby and Sir Andrew are so impressed with MariaÕs trick that they say they could marry her. MariaÕs faction leaves in order to be there when the newly confident and oddly dressed Malvolio meets with Olivia.

 

Movement Two, Scene 11

[Act 3, scene 1]

Outside OliviaÕs House. Viola has been sent on another love errand by Orsino. She first fools with Feste, paying him for his banter. Viola then speaks a small monologue on the profession of fooling, acknowledging FesteÕs wisdom and his position as the one person in Illyria who is intimate with both Orsino and OliviaÕs households. Sir Andrew and Sir Toby come to rudely escort Viola indoors, but they are interrupted by Olivia and Maria. Olivia sends away her household, and presses her suit to "Cesario" while Viola continues to try to convince her to stop loving "Cesario" and love Orsino instead. Olivia refuses to be swayed, but does tell Viola to come again on OrsinoÕs behalf.

Movement Two, Scene 12

[Act 3, scene 2]

OliviaÕs house, a common or outdoor space. Sir Andrew realizes that Olivia loves "Cesario", and decides to leave. Sir Toby convinces him to stay, and to challenge "Cesario" to a duel. Sir Andrew leaves to write out his challenge. Maria comes and tells Fabian and Tony to watch the absurd Malvolio.

Movement Two, Scene 13

[Act 3, scene 3]

The streets of Illyria. Antonio catches up with Sebastian in Illyria, since Antonio couldnÕt leave his friend alone in a strange city. Sebastian berates Antonio for risking his life (since he is a wanted man) but accepts AntonioÕs company. Antonio decides to stay in seclusion at SebastianÕs lodging, the Elephant Inn, but lends Sebastian his purse so that Sebastian can buy whatever trinkets he likes while he explores Illyria.

Movement Two, Scene 14

[Act 3, scene 4]

OliviaÕs house, some public garden or courtyard. Olivia and Maria wait for Viola as "Cesario." Olivia calls for Malvolio because she feels glum and MalvolioÕs personality suits her mood. Maria warns Olivia that something is wrong with Malvolio, since he keeps uncharacteristically smiling. Malvolio flirts with Olivia and looks so odd that she thinks he is demented. When she hears that "Cesario" has arrived, she tells Maria to have Toby look after her steward and leaves. Malvolio takes this as further sign of her affection.

Sir Toby and Fabian tease Malvolio about being crazy with Maria, and Malvolio runs off. MariaÕs faction decide to confine Malvolio as if he were a mad man.

Sir Andrew enters with his letter challenging "Cesario" to a duel, which he gives to Toby. Toby decides the letter is too absurd to give to "Cesario", but instead decides to challenge "Cesario" on behalf of Sir Andrew in very strong language.

Olivia and Viola enter, Olivia declaring her love, Viola in turn spurning her affection. Calling "Cesario" a fiend, Olivia asks "him" to come again the next day. She leaves.

Sir Toby bears Sir AndrewÕs challenge to Viola, claiming that Sir Andrew is a "devil in private brawl." Viola tries to avoid the duel, asking Sir Toby to act as a mediator. Sir Toby leaves to fetch Sir Andrew, while Viola walks off with Fabian asking him to make peace. Sir Toby and Sir Andrew return to fight, as do Fabian and Viola. Toby and Fabian coerce the extremely reluctant duelists into going through with the duel.

Viola is suddenly saved by Antonio (who thinks she is Sebastian), and Antonio throttles Sir Andrew and draws on Sir Toby. Officers in turn arrive to break up the brawl and to arrest Antonio. Antonio asks Viola for his purse. Viola denies that she knows him at all, much less borrowed money from him. As Antonio is led away, he accuses "Sebastian" of ingratitude. Viola realizes that Antonio has mistook her for her brother and that Sebastian is alive.

Sir Toby and Fabian convince Sir Andrew that "Cesario" is a coward, and Andrew leaves determined to resume the duel.

Movement Three, Scene 15

[Act 4, scene 1]

Another part of Illyria. In this scene, Sebastian is mistaken for "Cesario" by OliviaÕs household. First Feste tries to banter for money with Sebastian as he bantered with Viola, but Sebastian both refuses to banter and then refuses to give Feste money. Then Sebastian is accosted by Sir Andrew, Sir Toby and Fabian and Sir Andrew resumes the duel. Sebastian beats Sir Andrew and draws on Sir Toby. Olivia interrupts the duel, and invites Sebastian into her house in order for Olivia to apologize. Sebastian says he will be "ruled" by Olivia, and Olivia thinks she has finally won over "Cesario."

Movement Three, Scene 16

[Act 4, scene 2]

A part of OliviaÕs house where Maria and Sir Toby have had Malvolio confined as a madman shut up alone in the dark. Feste comes to visit Malvolio disguised as Sir Topas, the curate. Malvolio pleads with "Sir Topas" to believe that he is sane. "Sir Topas" poses ridiculous questions which Malvolio canÕt work out, and then "Sir Topas" declares him mad. Feste then goes to Malvolio as himself, and Malvolio asks Feste to bring him pen and ink and paper so that Malvolio can write to Olivia for help. Feste asks Malvolio if he is mad, and Malvolio swears that he is sane. Feste leaves, agreeing to return so that Malvolio can write his letter.

Movement Three, Scene 17

[Act 4, scene 3]

OliviaÕs Garden. Sebastian wonders if he himself dreams or is mad, or if Olivia is mad. But he decides that he is awake and sane, and that if Olivia were mad she couldnÕt run her household as well as she does. He knows that something strange is going on, but decides not to question his good fortune too closely. He only wishes that he could find Antonio to ask his advice; he is concerned because he went to the Elephant Inn where he discovered that Antonio was out looking for him.

Olivia enters with a priest and suggests that they get married, and Sebastian agrees.

Movement Three, Scene 18

[Act 5, scene 1]

A public place in front of OliviaÕs house. Fabian begs Feste to see MalvolioÕs letter to Olivia, but Feste refuses.

Orsino arrives in front of OliviaÕs house with his entourage, including Viola; Orsino banters with Feste, giving him coins and finally asking the clown to let Olivia know about OrsinoÕs arrival.

The Officers bring Antonio to Orsino. Viola identifies Antonio as the stranger that came to her rescue, while an officer reminds Orsino that Antonio captained a ship in a sea-fight where OrsinoÕs nephew lost his leg. Orsino asks Antonio why he came to Illyria, where Antonio is a wanted man. Antonio replies by telling the story of his friendship with and his supposed betrayal by Sebastian. Before Orsino can pass judgement on Antonio, Olivia sweeps in with her court.

Orsino and Olivia finally confront each other and things between them are very tense. Olivia accuses "Cesario", whom she believes that she has married, of neglecting her. Orsino, in a jealous rage, decides to kill "Cesario" both to prove his love for Olivia and because Orsino believes that "Cesario" has seduced Olivia. Viola says she would gladly die for Orsino, since she loves him better than she could ever love a wife. Olivia feels betrayed, and calls "Cesario" her husband in front of Orsino, sealing "CesarioÕs" fate.

To make matterÕs worse, Sir Andrew comes in saying that "Cesario" has broken his head and beaten up Sir Toby. Viola protests that she never hurt anybody, but no one believes her and Olivia orders that Sir Toby be taken care of.

At this point, Sebastian enters and runs straight to Antonio, who Sebastian has been searching for frantically. Sebastian is so concerned with his friend that he fails to notice Viola. The twinsÕ reunion is one of the most beautiful and elegant moments in Shakespeare.

Realizing that there are two "Cesarios", Olivia says "most wonderful" and is content with her marriage to Sebastian. Orsino, in his turn, takes Olivia as his "sister" and decides to marry Viola since "thou hast said to me a thousand time/Thou never shouldst love woman like to me". Orsino asks Viola to get changed into her female clothes as quickly as possible. Viola says that the ship captain has her female clothes, but that Malvolio imprisoned the captain on some small charge and she doesnÕt know the whereabouts of either the captain or her clothes.

Everyone suddenly remembers Malvolio, locked up as a madman. Olivia reprimands herself for being so caught up in her romantic affairs, "a most extracting frenzy", that she failed to take care of her ailing steward. Olivia orders her retinue to bring Malvolio to her.

When Malvolio accuses Olivia of leading him on, MariaÕs plot is exposed by Fabian and Feste. Fabian further says that because of MariaÕs trick on Malvolio, Toby finally married her. Malvolio leaves, swearing vengeance on "the whole pack of you."

Orsino tells his servants to pursue Malvolio in order to find the captain with ViolaÕs clothes and then makes plans to marry Viola.

Celise Kalke

Shelley: "On Love"

Note - this essay was given to the cast of Twelfth Night by Director Karin Coonrod. I have excerpted the essay for our Playnotes On Line readers.

Celise Kalke

What is love? Ask him who lives, what is life; ask him who adores, what is God?. . . .It is that powerful attraction towards all we conceive, or fear, or hope beyond ourselves, when we find within our own thoughts the chasm of an insufficient void, and seek to awaken in all things that are, a community with what we experience within ourselves. If we reason, we would be understood; if we imagine, we would that the airy children of our brain were born anew within anotherÕs; if we feel, we would that anotherÕs nerves should vibrate to our own, that the beams of their eyes should kindle at once and mix and melt into our own; that lips of motionless ice should not reply to lips quivering and burning with the heartÕs best blood. This is Love. This is the bond and the sanction which connects not only man with man, but with every thing which exists. We are born into the world, and there is something within us which, from the instant that we live, more and more thirsts after its likeness. It is probably in correspondence with this law that the infant drains milk from the bosom of its mother; this propensity develops itself with the development of our nature. We dimly see within our intellectual nature a miniature as it were of our entire self, yet deprived of all that we condemn or despise, the ideal prototype of every thing excellent or lovely that we are capable of conceiving as belonging to the nature of man. Not only the portrait of our external being, but an assemblage of the minutest particles of which our nature is composed; a mirror whose surface reflects only the forms of purity and brightness; a soul within our soul that describes a circle around its proper paradise, which pain and sorrow and evil dare not overleap. To this we eagerly refer all sensations, thirsting that they should resemble or correspond with it. The discovery of its antitype; the meeting with an understanding capable of clearly estimating our own; an imagination which should enter and seize upon the subtle and delicate peculiarities which we have delighted to cherish and unfold in secret; with a frame whose nerves, like the chords of two exquisite lyres, strung to the accompaniment of one delightful voice, vibrate with the vibrations of our own; and of a combination of all these in such proportion as the type within demands; this is the invisible and unattainable point to which Love tends; and to attain which, it urges for the powers of man to arrest the faintest shadow of that, without the possession of which there is no rest nor respite to the heart over which it rules. Hence in solitude, or in that deserted state when we are surrounded by human beings, and yet they sympathize not with us, we love the flowers, the grass, the waters, and the sky. In the motion of the very leaves of spring, in the blue air, there is then found a secret correspondence with our heart. There is eloquence in the tongueless wind, and a melody in the flowing brooks and the rustling of the reeds beside them, which by their inconceivable relation to something within the soul, awaken the spirits to a dance of breathless rapture, and bring tears of mysterious tenderness to the eyes, like the enthusiasm of patriotic success, or the voice of one beloved singing to you alone. Sterne says that if he were in a desert he would love some cypress. So soon as this want or power is dead, man becomes the living sepulchre of himself, and what yet survives is the mere husk of what once he was.

Twelfth Night Frequently Asked Questions

Q: How long is the show?
A: Almost three hours, with intermission. But the time will fly by.

Q: How young of a child could I bring?
A: There is some slightly vulgar humor, but other than that nothing inappropriate for any age child. I think any child who can stay awake until ten-thirty or eleven is old enough to see this show, and will enjoy the production.

Q: Is it a traditional production?
A: Traditional is such a funny word, and so this question defies a "yes" or "no" answer. This production remains firmly rooted in ShakespeareÕs language. It is spare and simple, and really focuses on the acting and the wonderful poetry of the play.

Q: Will the play use Elizabethan costumes?
A: No, like ShakespeareÕs own company, we are adapting contemporary high fashion to the stage. The costumes are a bit modern, a bit 1950Õs, a little Elizabethan, and very stylish.

Q: Was the text of the play cut?
A: Yes, but not very much. The first scene between Feste and Maria was cut, and the first bit of the very long last scene (between Feste and Fabian) was cut.

Q. Where is Illyria?
A: Ilyria, the setting for Twelfth Night, is thought to indicate the Croatian coast of the Adriatic. Unlike most of ShakespeareÕs Eastern European geography, Twelfth NightÕs setting and characteristics are informed by a study of an Adriatic city like Dubrovnik.

Q: What inspired the set?
A: The set, which consists of beautiful topiaries surrounding the entire Court Theatre space, was inspired by a lovely book called Edith WhartonÕs Italian Gardens. Karin Coonrod did much of her preparation for Twelfth Night while visiting Italy for a month last year. Also, Shakespeare was probably inspired to write the play by the visit of the Italian Duke Orsino to queen ElizabethÕs Court. So all of these factors led to the idea of setting the play in and around a highly sculpted Italian garden.

Q: Which edition of the play should I read before coming to the Court production?
A: The Bevington edition. We also worked with both the Arden edition and the Oxford edition of Twelfth Night.

Q: Is it a dark or lighthearted interpretation of the text?
A: One of the central ideas behind this production is the reunion of twins. Viola and Sebastian are ripped apart by the storm, and come together in a magical theatrical moment three months (in the play) or three hours (in the theatre) later. But mostly I would say that this is a lighthearted, dangerous, poetic and emotionally rich interpretation of the play.

Twelfth NightÕs critics discuss Twelfth Night

Twelfth Night was the last of ShakespeareÕs three "mature" comedies, as it, Much Ado About Nothing, and As You Like It are called, and it was followed shortly by the first of the major Tragedies, Hamlet. This crucial position in ShakespeareÕs oeuvre is reflected in the playÕs subtle complexity. It sustains the celebration of triumphant love that characterizes its predecessors, yet it is distinguished by a troubling undertone that suggests the playwrightÕs need to deal with deeper realms of the human psyche.

Charles Boyce, "Twelfth Night: Commentary"; Shakespeare A-Z


Twelfth Night was written between 1599Ñthe publication date of the Ônew map with the augmentation of the IndiesÕ referred to in 3.2.76-77Ñand late 1601, in time for the earliest recorded performance in February 1602. The play may have been written for a performance on January 6, 1601, when Queen Elizabeth (1) paid the ChamberlainÕs Men to entertain a visiting Italian nobleman named Orsino. If so, then the play must have been written in late 1600, but most scholars believe that this theory is inaccurate, although the much-talked-about visitor may have inspired ShakespeareÕs choice of a name for his duke, suggesting 1601 as the date of composition. . . . Twelfth Night was performed at one of the Inns of Court on February 2, 1602, according to the diary of John Manningham. This is the only record of a performance in ShakespeareÕs lifetime, though the KingÕs Men presented the play at the court of King James I in 1618 and 1623, suggesting its popularity.

Charles Boyce, "Twelfth Night: Commentary"; Shakespeare A-Z


The Court delights prepared for the Duke, Orsino, must be of the rarest and most fitting, under the direction of the Lord Chamberlain of [Elizabeth IÕs] Household. This is her favorite cousin Ôgood GeorgeÕ, as she calls him, the fifty-three-year-old Lord Hunsdon, suffering from poor health, but still discharging the exacting duties of his great office.

Time is short, but Elizabeth is a mistress of improvisation, and rises to the challenge. She calls in her Chamberlain and opens the matter to him at once. Her skilled musicians are prepared always, the Court dancers ready; but the play? What fit of mirth, what comedy shall we have to sum the crowned day? . . . She knows what an ace Hunsdon holds in the person of his servant ShakespeareÑat the height of his powers at the age of thirty-six. Hunsdon will see at once what may be had. As we know, his company of players, led by Shakespeare and Burbage, have established a clear supremacy at Court.

Leslie Hotson, The First Night Of Twelfth Night [1957]


But besides courtly love high-fantastical, with well-turned compliment to the Queen and the Duke, the play must have tricks, devices, and mad hieroglyphics which all can read. For Twelfth Night is the golden saturnalia, the ancient feast of liberty when the man changes places with the master, when servants may say what they list of their lords, who must take all in good part; the mad revel when Ôthey play new pranks and gambolsÑno manÕs person, of what degree soever, free from abusesÕ, the hilarious annual test of the orderly world by standing it on its head.

Leslie Hotson, The First Night Of Twelfth Night [1957]


ShakespeareÕs Twelfth Night, and WebsterÕs The White Devil are the extremes of Elizabethan drama: the one, the happiest and most golden comedy of love, music, and laughter, and the other perhaps the blackest and most nerve-racking tragedy of lust, murder, and horrible death. It seems incredible, but these antipodes of the dramatic sphere share one point in common. Among the persons of the play in each of them figures the shadow of Don Virginio Orsino.

WebsterÕs White Devil freely telescopes the horrors of VirginioÕs childhood. Actually he was not four years old when Paolo Giordano, his jealous father, strangled his mother. And he was almost eleven before this same father, infatuated with the beautiful Vittoria Accorambona, had her husband murdered. Two years later. . Paolo Giordano married VittoriaÑhe seems indeed to have married her three times to make sureÑand escaped with her . . only to die within a few months. VittoriaÕs murder followed close after, accomplished by an Orsini cousin. This clansman killed little VirginioÕs fair stepmother with the loyal and the laudable motive of insuring the boyÕs inheritance of the great Orsini wealth. The fame of these sensational crimes spread throughout Europe.

. . . .[the adult prince] Don Virginio had long desired to see the famous Elizabeth of England. . . She was a legend: the deathless Phoenix of the Western Ocean, who had come to the English throne almost a generation before he was born. Repeated and hopeful rumors of her sickness or death put about by the Spaniards were belied by a stream of travelers bringing evidence of her unquenchable gaiety and activity in dancing and hunting. . . .

Leslie Hotson, The First Night Of Twelfth Night [1957]


Why Illyria? . . . What the Dalmation-Croatian Illyia brought to mind was thoughts of wild riot and drunkenness, and the lawless profession of piracy. . . For sea-thievery, we find Shakeseapre elsewhere citing "Bargulus, the strong Illyrian pirate" and the Ragusan "Ragozine, a most notorioius pirate", and aptly bringing that "notable pirate, salt-water thief", Antonio, into Twelfth NightÕs Illyria.

All in all, a boisterous coast, Illyria.

Leslie Hotson, The First Night Of Twelfth Night [1957]


Lifting the curtain of oblivion on that Ôfirst night", our discovery reveals ShakespeareÕs Twelfth Night in something of its original glow, shows us for the first time the rare and happy fitness of each part. Because her majesty desired a play with variety of music and dance, Twelfth Night is ShakespeareÕs most musical comedy. Because Queen Elizabeth and Don Virginio must be complimented, Lady Olivia is a shadow of the Queen in her youth, and the Illyrian Orsino is a portrait of her valorous and courtly guest, Orsino. Because the time is leap-year, Shakespeare gracefully gives the ladies control: they all must woo and win, and Maria must rule as Sovereign of the Sports. Because the occasion is Epiphany, the piece abounds in Twelfth Night topicalities.

Leslie Hotson, The First Night Of Twelfth Night [1957]


Twelfth Night, as its stage proves, is one of the most effective theater pieces Shakespeare ever wrote. It is an almost unbroken succession of telling scenes. . . . the play is a sort of recapitulation. It is as if Shakespeare, for his last unadulterated comedy, summoned the ghosts of a dozen characters and situations with which he had triumphed in the past and bade them weave themselves into a fresh pattern.

Harold C. Goddard, The Meaning of Shakespeare, Volume I


We can imagine the Elizabethan gentlemen swarming to see Twelfth Night and paying for the privilege! It is almost as if the dead man were expected to pay an entrance fee to his own funeral and enjoy the proceedings. The poet just holds the mirror up to nature and gets a more devastating effect than the fiercest satire could achieve. It is the Chaucerian method. Indeed Twelfth Night makes one wonder whether justice has been done to the indebtedness of Shakespeare to the spirit of his great predecessor as distinguished from his indebtedness to him as source in the narrower sense. . . In Twelfth Night at any rate Shakespeare does something similar to what Chaucer does in "The Legend of Good Women": so sweetens the medicine he is administering to his victims (in ChaucerÕs case the women) that they swallow it as if it were the most refreshing draught.

Harold C. Goddard, The Meaning of Shakespeare, Volume I


More than any of his contemporaries, Shakespeare discovered how to use the erotic power that the theater could appropriate, how to generate plots that would not block or ignore this power but draw it out, develop it, return it with interest, as it were, to the audience. And this Shakespearean discovery, perfected over a six-or-seven year period in the comedies from Taming [of the Shrew] to Twelfth Night, entailed above all the representation of the emergence of identity through the experience of erotic heat. This Promethean heat, which is, as we have seen, the crucial practical agent of sexuality in the Renaissance, would seem to be precisely what is excluded from theatrical presentationÑit takes place internally, out of sight, in the privileged intimacy of the body. But sexual heat, we recall, is not different in kind from all other heat, including that produced by the imagination. Shakespeare realized that if sexual chafing could not be presented literally onstage, it could be represented figuratively: friction could be fictionalized, chafing chastened and hence made fit for the stage, by transforming it into the witty, erotically charged sparring that is the heart of the loversÕ experience.

Stephen Greenblatt, "Fiction and Friction" [1988]


Pretty nearly everybody [in Twelfth Night] but Viola and SebastianÑand those two outskirt characters the sea captionsÑis at the extreme point where from excess of something or other he is about to be converted into something else.

Harold C. Goddard, The Meaning of Shakespeare, Volume I


Viola, the most clear-sighted and honest figure, is nevertheless tangled in the lie of her disguise, which prevents her from expressing her love. Sir Toby, for all his humor, is a parasite and, worse, a victimizer of the hapless Sir Andrew, as well as of Malvolio. Even the apparently frivolous Feste betrays a weary cynicism at times, as in his final song. Most significantly, MalvolioÕs humiliation and imprisonment seem so out of proportion to his offence that they lend the comic sub-plot a vicious air that adds to our uneasy sense that the playÕs comedy is darker than it seems at first.

Charles Boyce, "Twelfth Night: Commentary"; Shakespeare A-Z


While the beginning of Twelfth Night is unusually static, the conclusion is strikingly active.

Camille Slights, "The Principle of Recompense in Twelfth Night" [1996]


At the midpoint of [the final scene], Sebastian enters and the scene reverse direction. In the first half, relationships disintegrate in the whirling confusions of mistaken identities emanating from ViolaÕs disguise. In the second half [of the final scene], new relationship form from the revelation and identification of the twins, Sebastian and Viola. The scene performs the conventional function of uniting lovers and reuniting family, but the emphasis is less on restoration and reconciliation than on the discovery of unexpected relationships and acceptance of new obligations.

Camille Slights, "The Principle of Recompense in Twelfth Night" [1996]


Reciprocal love, the design of Twelfth Night implies, naturally culminates not in a private dream-world of complete fulfillment, but in the give and take of human society.

Camille Slights, "The Principle of Recompense in Twelfth Night" [1996]


We usually think of The Merchant of Venice as ShakespeareÕs treatment of the relationship of wealth to love, but, as Porter Williams, Jr. has pointed out, "seldom in a play does money flow so freely" as in Twelfth Night. Viola gives gold to the sea captain. Antonio gives his purse to Sebastian, Orsino sends a jewel to Olivia, Olivia showers gifts on Cesario, Viola-Cesario offers to divide her wealth with Antonio, and they all repeatedly give money to Feste. Economic advantage is not a prime motive for any of the characters, but hardly a scene goes by when they are not engaged in giving or receiving money or jewels.

Camille Slights, "The Principle of Recompense in Twelfth Night" [1996]


Indeed, the play as a whole, I think, demonstrates the principle of reciprocity, the unwritten rule, according to Marcel Mauss, and Levi-Strauss, by which the exchange of goods creates mutually satisfying relationship among individuals and groups.

Camille Slights, "The Principle of Recompense in Twelfth Night" [1996]


Swerving is not a random image in the play; it is one of the central structural principles of Twelfth Night, a principle that links individual characters endowed with their own private motivations to the larger social order glimpsed in the ducal court and the aristocratic household. The playÕs initiatory design invites the audience to envisage the unification of court and household through the marriage of their symbolic heads, Orsino and Olivia. This uniting, at once a social and psychological consummation, is blocked only by a vow that must be broken in the interest of both the political and the natural order of things. To intensify the narrative pressure behind this design, the play insists upon the perfect eligibility of Olivia: she is not only a great heiress but, in the wake of the deaths of her father and only brother, the sole ruler of her fortunes. Courtship need not be represented. . . as (at least in part) a negotiation with the father or male guardian; the countess Olivia is a prize encumbered only her devotion to her brotherÕs memory. . . .The lady richly left was a major male wish-fulfillment fantasy in a culture where the pursuit of wealth through marriage was an avowed and reputable preoccupation. Here the fantasy is at its most dreamlike because it focuses not on a widowÑthe only group whose members actually corresponded on infrequent occasion to this daydreamÑbut on "a virtuous maid".

. . . There is then a powerful logicÑsocial, political, economic, eroticÑto the eligible, perfectly independent male ruler of the land taking possession of this eligible, perfectly independent maiden prize.

Stephen Greenblatt, "Fiction and Friction" [1988]


The surprise for Orsino is that swerving, when it comes, is not in his direction. That it is not depends upon a series of events that the play also represents as swervings: a shipwreck that keeps Viola and Sebastian from reaching their destination, the blocking of ViolaÕs initial intention to serve Olivia, ViolaÕs relatively unmotivated decision to disguise herself in menÕs clothing, the mistaking of Sebastian for the disguised Viola and so forth. These apparently random accidents are at once zany deflections of direction, intention, and identity and comically predictable drives toward a resolution no less conventional than the one for which Orsino had longed. The plot initially invoked by ShakespeareÕs play is displaced by another, equally familiar, plotÑthe plot of cross-dressing and cross-coupling that had become a heavily overworked convention of Italian and Spanish comedy.

Stephen Greenblatt, "Fiction and Friction" [1988]


In Twelfth Night money symbolizes not love so much as a broader engagement with the real and imperfect world; paying, lending, giving, and taking are signs of willingness to have commerce with human society.

Camille Slights, "The Principle of Recompense in Twelfth Night" [1996]


It is only when OliviaÕs exclusive allegiance to her brother is relinquished, and when brother and sister are brought together so that they can be publicly divided, that a harmonious and cohesive society becomes possible. The strangers from across the sea rescue the native Illyrians both from the sterility of self-preoccupation and from the divisive violence of their inevitable conflicts. Viola and Sebastian free Orsino and Olivia from illusions of exclusive self-fulfillment and total dominance and give them instead the shared happiness of mutual love. Neither Shakespeare nor the anthropologists claim that awareness of the principle of reciprocity can fundamentally alter the finite, complex nature of the human condition, but in his last romantic comedy Shakespeare suggests that by understanding our mutual needs we can choose love. Generosity, and alliance rather than isolation, stagnation, and division.

Camille Slights, "The Principle of Recompense in Twelfth Night" [1996]


The last scene [of Twelfth Night] is neither a still point of harmony nor a simple dying fall: it is the busiest, most complex scene in the play, as the private, magic happiness of the lovers vies for attention with the larger uncontrollable world of time inhabited by the clowns.

A.S. Leggatt [1974]


The reunion of the twins [Viola and Sebastian] is a moment of still, poised formality: action freezes in the contemplation of a miracle, and natural explanations emerge only slowly. Theatrically this moment counts for more than the pairing of the lovers, and is as it should. The joining of the twins is the crucial action; after it has been accomplished the lovers can slip easily into couples, for the problem is already solved. But the plot significance of this moment is a clue to something deeper. The single being in a double body is an image of love to set against the opposing image of the solitary ego. . . It recalls the fable of Aristophanes in PlatoÕs Symposium: a single being, divided into two bodies, seeks reunion, and this is the source of love.

A.S. Leggatt [1974]


[Twelfth Night] ends not with a dance or a procession of couples trooping off to bed, but with a solitary figure of Feste, singing of the wind and the rain. And this imagine of solitude echoes and reverberates throughout the play.

A.S. Leggatt [1974]


Twelfth Night may be the most festive of ShakespeareÕs festive comedies.

David Bevington [2000]

Twelfth NightÕs Critics discuss the Main Characters

THE LOVERS

The keynotes of the poetry of the play are that it is passionate and it is exquisite. . . Orsino, Olivia, Antonio, Sebastian, Viola are passionate all, and conscious of the worth of their passion in terms of beauty.

Harley Granville Barker, Prefaces to Shakespeare, Vol. VI


. . When Olivia mistakes Sebastian for Cesario she takes him not to bed but to a priest. Olivia no less than Orsino is kept free of moral taint. And this is no mere matter of prudishness. The reckless abandonment of scruple shown by all [ShakespeareÕs] earlier lover [in The Comedy of Errors and Two Gentleman of Verona]Ñboth by the gentlemen who desert their mistresses and the ladies who fling themselves upon the page-boysÑcannot coexist with the more delicate sentiment which gives Twelfth Night its character. In Shakespeare, even the twin brother [Sebastian], prop to the plot as he may be, shares in this refinement. When Olivia takes charge of SebastianÕs person, what he gives her is less his body than his imagination. He is enwrapped, he says, in "wonder." And it is his capacity to experience this wonder that lifts him to the level of the other lovers in the play, so that he becomes a worthy partner for OrsinoÕs adored one and OliviaÕs adorer.

Harold Jenkins


All we can say with certainty is that Viola will make a man of Orsino if any woman can and that Sebastian seems fitted to make a woman, as distinct from lady, of Olivia.

Harold C. Goddard, The Meaning of Shakespeare, Volume I


Endowed with wealth, their lives graced by neither fathers, brothers, husbands, nor lovers, the two major women characters of Twelfth Night briefly challenge patterns of patriarchy.

Irene G. Dash


We also realize that the relationship between the two people to be married is inconsequential in this play, as is the need for a realistic reason for ViolaÕs decision to disguise. Rather, the comedy seems to concentrate more closely on the changes in the womenÕs self-perception from "primary" to "other" as they accept their identities as sexual beings in a male-dominated world. Attire, whether breeches or skirts, fades in importance as the dramatist explores the potential for independence by single women with wealth when unhampered by brothers or fathers.

Irene G. Dash


The pairing of the lovers in the final scene is likewise beyond considerations of individual temperament. It is, like the meeting of the twins, a generalized image of love.

A. S. Leggatt


VIOLA

Viola seems to have formed a very deep design with very little premeditation: she is thrown by shipwreck on an unknown coast, hears that the prince is a bachelor, and resolves to supplant the lady whom he courts.

Samuel Johnson


. . . the shipwreck is made the occasion for Viola to exhibit an undaunted, aristocratic mastery of adversityÑshe settles what she shall do next almost as though picking out a costume for a masquerade.

C. L. Barber


OLIVIA

ShakespeareÕs portrait of Olivia has usually, I think, been underrated. The critics who used to talk about ShakespeareÕs heroines fell in love with Viola, and actresses have naturally preferred the bravura of her essentially easier role. Besides there is the risk of the ridiculous about a woman who mistakenly loves one of her own sex. But Shakespeare. .. steers the situation right away from farce and contrives to show, through her potentially absurd and undisguisedly pathetic plight, the gradual awakening of that noble nature which Orsino detected from the first.

Harold Jenkins


There is much of the grand lady about Olivia. She is the efficient head of a great house, managing her affairs and commanding her followers with smoothness and discretion. . . . it is precisely her adherence to outer form that accounts for her highly unconventional falling in love with the DukeÕs "man", Cesario. We like her for that capacity, but we cannot help noticing that she inquires about his parentage and makes certain he is a gentleman before letting her emotions have their way.

Harold C. Goddard, The Meaning of Shakespeare, Volume I


Unlike Viola, Olivia refuses to perceive herself as "Other," seeking instead to solve her problems by aggressively taking charge. After having claimed fealty to her dead brotherÕs memory and adopting a vow of seven years of mourning, a period meant to discourage all the suitors who do not appeals to her, she then changes her mind about marriage when an attractive young "male" arrives at her door. Still retaining that sense of self as "subject, active, free," she nevertheless pursues Cesario, the disguised Viola. . . But Shakespeare has not only endowed Olivia with freedom, wealth, and power, he has also created an alternative double to her in Viola. Unlike Viola, however ,Olivia refuses to leave everything for time "to untangle." Thus, while partially illustrating de BeauvoirÕs thesisÑof the effect of "erotic urges" on womenÕs decision-makingÑOlivia fails to conform to the properly acceptable behavior for a woman.

Irene G. Dash


ORSINO

Orsino. . .draws us from the start in the aura of his imagination.

Harold Jenkins


[OrsinoÕs] wonderful opening speech suggest no doubt the changeableness of human emotion. "Play on. . . that strain again! It had a dying fall. . . .Enough, no more! ÔTis not so sweet now as it was before." But if the spirit of love is as transitory as music and as unstable as the sea, it is also as living and capacious. New waves form as often as waves break; the shapes of fancy, insubstantial as they are, make a splendor in the mind, and renew themselves as quickly as they fade. So OrsinoÕs repeated rejections by his mistress do not throw him into despair. Instead he recognizes, in her equally fantastic devotion, a nature of surpassingly "fine frame" and he reflects on how she will love when the throne of her hear shall find its "king." How too will he love, we are entitled to infer, when his inexhaustible but as yet deluded fancy shall also find the true sovereign it seeks. This of course it does at the end of the play when he exchanges all his dreams of passion for the love of someone he has come to know. In the playÕs last line before the final song he is able to greet Viola as "OrsinoÕs mistress and his fancyÕs queen."

Harold Jenkins


The Duke [Orsino] is the ne plus ultra of the melancholy characters we have met in Shakespeare. His love is the sentimentalism that idleness is sure to breed in potentially fine natures if it does not turn to something worse. He is in the third degree of "love," as much drowned in it as Toby is in drink, a fact that makes his fondness for the sea as metaphor significant. But he does not keep it consistent. (He keeps nothing consistent; his mind, as the Clown perceives, is "a very opal.")

Harold C. Goddard, The Meaning of Shakespeare, Volume I


FESTE

In Feste the Shakespearean clown comes, as it were, to self-consciousness. Touchstone seems perpetually delighted with himself and his vocation. But the first thing we hear about Feste is that he has been playing truant. Why he has absented himself from his duties as jester in OliviaÕs household we are never told. But the rest of the play makes it a fair inference that, whatever the immediate occasion, he was sick of his foolÕs costume, as his protestation that he does not wear motley in his brain is almost enough in itself to show. . . the main function of a clown is to juggle with words until everything, often including the truth, is upside down and inside out. All ShakespeareÕs clowns do it, but Feste not only does it but perceives and proclaims that he does it. . . He is not OliviaÕs fool, he says, but her corrupter of words. . . His disillusionment about himself and his profession betokens a sense of humor that is lacking almost by definition in the mere wit.

His is a gentle and attractive melancholy that avoids sentimentalism. He loves to sing, and his songs are all plaintive and in a minor key. Wise observations about life spring up like flowers amid the weeds of his professional jesting, as, for instance, his contention that his foes are his best friends because they tell him the truth about himself. They tell him plainly that he is an ass. He seems truly concerned, too, with the moral welfare of those around him. He sees through the artifice of OliviaÕs grief for her brother and would gladly cure her of it. He tells the Duke to his face what a hopelessly self-contradictory mind he has, and understand the nature of his "passion" for Olivia. . . . And he can be friend as well as philosopher.

Harold C. Goddard, The Meaning of Shakespeare, Volume I


Feste is not only the most fully portrayed of ShakespeareÕs clowns, he is also the most agile-minded of them. He has fewer set pieces than Touchstone and fewer proverbs than the Fool in Lear. He is proud of his professional skillÑ"better a witty fool than a foolish wit"Ñbut he wields it lightly, in darting paradoxes; he is a "corrupter of words." Yet, besides being exceptionally imaginative and sophisticated, he is exceptionally given to scrounging for tips. This trait is consistent with the traditional aspect of his role, especially as the fool in a feast of misrule, but it helps to make him more like a real character and less like a stage type.

L. G. Salingar, "The Design of Twelfth Night"


SIR ANDREW

One can meet a score of Sir Andrews, in greater or less perfection, any day after a west-end London lunch, doing, what I believe is called, a slope down Bond.

Harley Granville Barker, Prefaces to Shakespeare, Vol. VI


There are a thousand things that could be said of [Sir Andrew Aguecheek], for there is probably no better text than a fool, but one particular aspect of him invites our attention. What really tickles us about Sir Andrew, over and above the unassailable drollery of his speeches, is not what he thinks and feels but the fact that he should not be able to conceal what he thinks and feels. There is somewhere at the back of all our minds a little Sir Andrew Aguecheek, giggling and gaping, now strutting and now cowering, pluming himself monstrously at one word and being hurled into a fit of depression by the next; but most of us contrive to keep this little fellow and his antics carefully hidden from sight for the sake of decency and our own self-respect.

J. B. Priestley, "The Illyrians"


SIR TOBY

I do not think that Sir Toby is meant for nothing but a bestial sot. He is a gentleman by birth, or he would not be OliviaÕs uncle. He has been, it would seem, a soldier. He is a drinker, and while idleness leads him to excess, the boredom of OliviaÕs drawing-room, where she sits solitary in her mourning, drives him to such jolly companions as he can find: Maria and Fabian and the Fool. He is a poor relation, and has been dear to Sir Andrew some two thousand strong or so (poor Sir Andrew), but as to that he might say he was but anticipating his commission as matrimonial agent. Now, dull though OliviaÕs house may be, it is free quarters. He is, it seems, in some danger of losing them, but if only by good luck he could see Sir Andrew installed there as master! Not perhaps all one could wish for in an uncle.

Harley Granville Barker, Prefaces to Shakespeare, Vol. VI


MARIA

Maria. . .is a lively, alert, resourceful, mocking person. Her vitality and intelligence (to call it that) have, in her servile position, made her ambitious and envious, especially so for the steward whose merits her mistress prizes so highly. It is important to realize that it is not just because he is Malvolio that she hates him. She would have resented anyone in his place. . . .Her "humor" is of that low order that must always have a physical outlet. She has her jests, she says, at her fingersÕ ends (not at her tongueÕs). She will make her fellow conspirators laugh themselves into stitches. Her sport must always bear fruit that others can see and feel. In this case to show off her talents before Sir Toby is as strong a motive as to humiliate Malvolio. . . . But Maria plainly means it when she says that if Malvolio really does go mad, it will be well worth it: the house will be the quieter! There is a cruel streak in her as there generally is in practical jokers. She is in that . . degree of fun where what might originally have been a sense of humor becomes perverted and commits suicide. But her excesses will trouble few people in the theater. They have made them laugh too heartily.

Harold C. Goddard, The Meaning of Shakespeare, Volume I


MALVOLIO

The forefront and title of the caricature [of Sir William KnollyÕs, the QueenÕs Comptroller] must be the Ôjest nominalÕÑhis name in the play. And here ShakespeareÕs unlooked for device of wit touches the peak of felicity. For while exposing both the ControllerÕs ill-willÑtowards hilarity and misruleÑand his amorousness in the name Mala-voglia (Ill Will or Evil Concupiscence), he also deftly fetches KnollysÕs ridiculous love-chase of Mistress Mall by a sly modulation of Malavoglia into "MalÕ-voglioÑwhich means ÔI want MallÕ, ÔI wish for MallÕ, ÔI will have MallÕ. It is a masterpiece of mockery. Heightened by merciless repetition, with the players ringing the changes of expression on ÔMalÕ-voglio, while they Ôquote his passion and his smiles, his amorous haviourÕ, it will bring down the house.

Leslie Hotson, The First Night of Hamlet


MalvolioÕs fate, like FalstaffÕs, has been much resented by the critics. But drama, as Aristotle indicated and Shakespeare evidently perceived, is not quite the same as life, and punishments that in life would seem excessive have their place in the more idea world of art. In the ethical scheme of comedy, it may be the doom of those who cannot correct themselves to be imprisoned or suppressed. Olivia and Prince Hal, within their vastly different realms, have shown themselves capable of learning, as Malvolio and Fastaff have not.

Harold Jenkins


ANTONIO

Antonio stands outside the main sphere of the comedy. He belongs to the world of merchants, law, and sea-battles, not the world of courtly love. His love for Sebastian is irrational, or beyond reason, and his danger in OrsinoÕs domains is due, similarly, to irrational persistence in an old dispute. But he gives himself completely to his principles, more seriously than anyone else in the play, and tries to live them out as rationally as he can. In contrast to the lover (except possibly Viola), he is not satisfied with truth of feeling, but demands some more objective standards of values; in his world, law and "time" mean something external, and harder that the unfolding of natural instinct. . . In one way, therefore, he marks a limit to festivity. Nevertheless, precisely because he takes himself so seriously, he helps to keep the comic balance of the play.

L. G. Salingar, "The Design of Twelfth Night"


SEBASTIAN

. . . SebastianÑlike Olivia before him, except that he does it in coolnessÑis ready to "wrangle with his reason" and welcome the gift of love.

L. G. Salingar

Suggested Resources for Further Exploration

Books:

Prefaces to Shakespeare, Vol. VI by Harley Granville Barker

Shakespeare A-Z by Charles Boyce

"The Wife of BathÕs Tale" from Canterbury Tales by Chaucer

WomenÕs WorldÕs in ShakespeareÕs Plays by Irene G. Dash

The Meaning of Shakespeare, Volume I by Harold C. Goddard

Sir Walter Ralegh: The Renaissance Man and His Roles by Stephen J. Greenblatt

Shakespearean Negotiations: The Circulation of Social Energy in Renaissance England by Stephen J. Greenblatt

The First Night of Twelfth Night by Leslie Hotson

Sonnets by Petrach

The God of Small Things by Arhundi Roy

Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare

Editions: the edition edited by David Bevington, Arden Edition, Oxford Edition

Twelfth Night, Critical Essays; edited by Stanley Wells

Society Women of ShakespeareÕs Time by Violet A. Wilson

Films:

Twelfth Night directed by Trevor Griffiths

Shakespeare in Love written by Tom Stoppard (Academy Award winner)

Web sites:

Everything you ever wanted to know about Elizabethan England:

http://www.ren.dm.net/compendium/home.html

About bear-baiting:

http://www.wspa.org.uk/campaigns/bearbaiting

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