TWELFTH NIGHT;

OR,

WHAT YOU WILL.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

Orsino, duke of Illyria.

Sebastian, a young gentleman, brother to Viola. Antonio, a sca-captain, friend to Sebastian.

A sea-captain, friend to Viola.

Lords, priests, sailors, officers, musicians, and other attendants.

Scene, a city in Illyria; and the sea-coast near it.

Enter Duke, Curio, Lords; musicians attending.

Duke.

IF music be the food of love, play on,
Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.————
That strain again;-it had a dying fall:
O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south,
That breathes upon a bank of violets,

Stealing, and giving odour.-Enough; no more; "Tis not so sweet now, as it was before.

O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou!
That notwithstanding thy capacity

Receiveth as the sea, uought enters there,
Of what validity* and pitch soever,

• Value.

But falls into abatement and low price,
Even in a minute! so full of shapes is fancy,
That it alone is high-fantastical*.

Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord?

Duke.

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. Soplease my lord, I might not be admitted, But from her handmaid do return this answer: The element itself, till seven years heatt, Shall not behold her face at ample view; But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk, And water once a day her chamber round, With eye-offending brine: all this, to season A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh, And lasting, in her sad remembrance.

Duke. O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame, To pay this debt of love but to a brother, How will she love, when the rich golden shaft Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else That live in her! when liver, brain, and heart, These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and fill'd (Her sweet perfections), with one self king!Away before me to sweet beds of flowers;

Love thoughts lie rich, when canopied with bowers. [Exeunt.

* Fantastical to the height.

+ Heated.

SCENE II.

The sea-coast.

Enter Viola, Captain, and Sailors.

Vio. What country, friends, is this?
Cap.

Illyria, lady.

Vio. And what should I do in Illyria? My brother he is in Elysium.

Perchance, he is not drown'd:-What think you, sailors?

Cap. It is perchance, that you yourself were

saved.

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 saved with you, Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother, Most provident in peril, bind himself

(Courage and hope both teaching him the practice)
To a strong mast, that lived upon the sea;
Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back,

I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves,
So long as I could see.

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.