Feste

Feste
Twelfth Night character
Actor Louis H. Chrispijn as Feste, c. 1899
Created by	William Shakespeare

Feste is a fool in William Shakespeare’s comedy Twelfth Night. He is attached to the household of the Countess Olivia. He has apparently been there for some time, as he was a “fool that the Lady Olivia’s father took much delight in.” Although Olivia’s father had died within the past year, it seems likely that Feste is approaching or has reached middle age. None the less, he still has the quick wit to carry off ‘foolery’ well, when he needs to, and the voice to sing lustily or plangently, according to the occasion.

Feste's relationships to other characters

Feste is only once referred to by his name during the play: Answering Orsino’s question about who sang a song the previous evening, Curio responds “Feste, the jester, my lord; a fool that the lady Olivia’s father took much delight in. He is about the house.” Through all the rest of the dialog, he is addressed only as “Fool”, while in the stage directions he is “Clown”.

Feste seems to leave and return to Countess Olivia’s household at his pleasure rather too freely for a servant. At the very least he is doing some free-lance entertaining at the house of Duke Orsino. In private conversation with his friend Maria, she accuses him of have been away at war, hence a long absence. His habit of roaming has gotten him into trouble with Lady Olivia: When we first see her, he must talk his way out of being turned out on the street – a grim fate in those days – for being absent from duty, as it were, without leave. He succeeds, and once back in his lady’s good graces, he weaves in and out of the action with the sort of impunity that was reserved for a person nobody took seriously.

Quotes

While portraying the part of the perfect fool, Feste illustrates his intelligence and distinct understanding of events with the quip

“Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.”

Performances

There are instances in the play where Feste appears to be an almost-omniscient presence. Some critics have suggested that there are moments where it seems that Feste knows more about Viola’s disguise (‘Cesario’) than he lets on; certain stage and film presentations have adopted this approach with their portrayal of the fool.

A clear example is in Trevor Nunn’s staging in his 1996 film adaptation, in which Feste (played by Ben Kingsley) is a constant background presence in the scenes that reveal the plot to the audience – in fact he narrates the opening of the film, describing the shipwreck and the separation of the twins. He is then shown standing on an overlook, watching Viola’s arrival below on any Illyrian beach, and when Viola removes her ‘Cesario’ disguise Feste hands her a golden necklace she had disposed of, as incompatible with her protective cover as a boy.

Kingsley’s Feste dresses in old clothes and appears to have no fixed abode, though he slips in and out of Olivia’s estate at will. He plays a number of musical instruments and, like most of the cast, displays a blend of comedy and pathos.

Songs/poems

Feste, as an entertainer (a fool), has a fine repertoire of songs:

O Mistress Mine

Oh Mistress mine, where are you roaming?

Oh, stay and hear! Your true love’s coming,

that can sing both high and low.

Trip no further, pretty sweeting;

journeys end in lovers meeting,

every wise man’s son doth know.

What is love? ’Tis not hereafter.

Present mirth hath present laughter;

what’s to come is still unsure.

In delay there lies no plenty,

then come kiss me, sweet and twenty:

Youth’s a stuff will not endure.

Come Away, Death

Come away, come away, death,

and in sad cypress let me be laid.

Fly away, fly away breath,

I am slain by a fair cruel maid.

My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,

oh, prepare it!

My part of death, no one so true

oh, did share it.

Not a flower, not a flower sweet

on my black coffin let there be strown.

Not a friend, not a friend greet

my poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown.

A thousand thousand sighs to save,

lay me, oh, where

sad true lover never find my grave,

oh, to weep there!

To weep there.

Hey Robin, Jolly Robin

Hey Robin, jolly Robin,

tell me how thy lady does.

My lady is unkind, perdy.

Alas, why is she so?

She loves another —

(The song is interrupted partway through by the arrival of other characters on stage.)

I Am Gone, Sir

I am gone, sir.

And anon, sir,

I’ll be with you again,

in a trice,

Like to the old Vice,

your need to sustain.

Who with dagger of lath,

in his rage and his wrath,

cries “Ah ha” to the devil.

Like a mad lad:

“Pare thy nails, dad.”

Adieu, good man devils.

The Wind and the Rain

When that I was and a little tiny boy,

with hey-ho, the wind and the rain,

A foolish thing was but a toy,

for the rain it raineth every day.

But when I came to man’s estate,

with hey-ho, the wind and the rain,

’gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate,

for the rain, it raineth every day.

But when I came, alas, to wive,

with hey-ho, the wind and the rain,

by swaggering could I never thrive,

for the rain, it raineth every day.

But when I came unto my beds,

with hey-ho, the wind and the rain,

with tosspots still had drunken heads,

for the rain, it raineth every day.

A great while ago the world begun,

with hey-ho, the wind and the rain.

But that’s all one, our play is done,

and we’ll strive to please you every day.