PERSONS REPRESENTED. ORSINO, Duke of Illyria. SEBASTIAN, a young Gentleman, brother to VIOLA. Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians, and SCENE,-A City in ILLYRIA; and the Sea-coast near it. TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL. ACT I. SCENE I.-An Apartment in the DUKE's Palace. Enter DUKE, CURIO, Lords; Musicians attending. The appetite may sicken and so die. But falls into abatement and low price Even in a minute! so full of shapes is fancy, Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord? Cur. What, Curio? The hart. Duke. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have: O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first, Methought she purg'd the air of pestilence; That instant was I turn'd into a hart; And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, E'er since pursue me.-How now? what news from her? Enter VALENTINE. Val. So please my lord, I might not be admitted, But from her handmaid do return this answer: The element itself, till seven years' heat, Duke. O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame, How will she love when the rich golden shaft That live in her! when liver, brain, and heart, These sov'reign thrones, are all supplied and fill'd,— Away before me to sweet beds of flowers; Love-thoughts lie rich when canopied with bowers. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-The Sea-coast. Enter VIOLA, Captain, and Sailors. Vio. What country, friends, is this? Cap. Illyria, lady. Perchance he is not drown'd:-What think you, sailors? Vio. O my poor brother! and so, perchance, may he be. Cap. True, madam; and, to comfort you with chance, Assure yourself, after our ship did split, When you, and that poor number sav'd with you, Courage and hope both teaching him the practice,- I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves Vio. For saying so, there's gold: Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope, Whereto thy speech serves for authority, The like of him. Know'st thou this country? Cap. Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and born Not three hours' travel from this very place. Vio. Who governs here? Cap. Vio. Orsino! I have heard my father name him. He was a bachelor then. Cap. And so is now, Or was so very late: for but a month Ago I went from hence; and then 'twas fresh The love of fair Olivia. Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count Who shortly also died: for whose dear love, Vio. O that I served that lady! And might not be delivered to the world, Till I had made mine own occasion mellow What my estate is. Cap. That were hard to compass: Because she will admit no kind of suit, No, not the duke's. Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, captain; I will believe thou hast a mind that suits Cap. Be you his eunuch and your mute I'll be; [Exeunt. SCENE III-A Room in OLIVIA's House. Enter Sir TOBY BELCH and MARIA. Sir To. What a plague means my niece, to take the death of her brother thus? I am sure care's an enemy to life. Mar. By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier o'nights; your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions to your ill hours. Sir To. Why, let her except before excepted. Mar. Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest limits of order. Sir To. Confine? I'll confine myself no finer than I am : these clothes are good enough to drink in, and so be these boots too; an they be not, let them hang themselves in their own straps. Mar. That quaffing and drinking will undo you: I heard my lady talk of it yesterday; and of a foolish knight that you brought in one night here to be her wooer. Sir To. Who? Sir Andrew Ague-cheek? Mar. Ay, he. Sir To. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria. Mar. What's that to the purpose? Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats a-year. Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats; he's a very fool, and a prodigal. Sir To. Fye, that you'll say so! he plays o' the violde-gambo, and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature. Mar. He hath, indeed,—almost natural: for, besides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller; and, but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among the prudent he would quickly have the gift of a grave. Sir To. By this hand, they are scoundrels and substractors that say so of him. Who are they? Mar. They that add, moreover, he's drunk nightly in your company. Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece; I'll drink to her as long as there is a passage in my throat and drink in Illyria. He's a coward and a coystril that will not drink to my niece till his brains turn o' the toe like a parish-top. What, wench? Castiliano-vulgo! for here comes Sir Andrew Ague-face. |