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1 Scene I.-An Apartment in the Duke's Palace.
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 : 0, 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, nought enters there,
Of what validity and pitch soe'er,
Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord ?
That instant was I turned into a hart; | And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, E’er since pursue me.—How now? what news
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, 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. (), 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 killed the flock of all affections else That live in her! when liver, brain and heart, These sovereign thrones, are all supplied and filled (Her sweet perfections) with one self king ! Away before me to sweet beds of flowers ; Love-thoughts lie rich when canopied with bowers.
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 't was fresh in murmur (as, you know, What great ones do, the less will prattle of) That he did seek the love of fair Olivia.
Vio. What's she?
Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count That died some twelvemonth since; then leaving
Vio. O, that I served that lady:
Cap. That were hard to compass,
Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, captain; And though that nature with a beauteous wall Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee I will believe thou hast a mind that suits With this thy fair and outward character. I pray thee, and I 'll pay thee bounteously, Conceal me what I am, and be my aid For such disguise as haply shall become The form of my intent. I 'll serve this duke; Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him; It may be worth thy pains; for I can sing, And speak to him in many sorts of music, That will allow me very worth his service. What else may hap, to time I will commit; Only shape thou thy silence to my wit.
Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be; When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see!
Vio. I thank thee; lead me on. [Exeunt.
Scene II.— The Sea-coast.
Vio. And what should I do in Illyria ?
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.
Vio. Who governs here?
Cap. A noble duke in nature,
Vio. What is his name?
SCENE III.-A Room in Olivia's house.
Enter Sir Toby Belch and MARIA. Sir Toby. 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 Toby. Why, let her except before excepted.
Mar. Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest limits of order.
Sir Toby. Confine? I'll confine myself no finer than I am; these clothes are good enough to drink
Sir Toby. By this hand, they are scoundrels and Sir Toby. No question. subtractors that say so of him. Who are they? Sir And. An' I thought that, I'd forswear it.
Mar. They that add, moreover, he's drunk | I'll ride home to-morrow, Sir Toby. nightly in your company.
Sir Toby. Pourquoy, my dear knight! Sir Toby. With drinking healths to my niece; Sir And. What is pourquoy ? do or not do? I I 'll drink to her as long as there is a passage in would I had bestowed that time in the tongues, that my throat, and drink in Illyria: He's a coward and I have in fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting: 0, a coystril that will not drink to my niece till his had I but followed the arts ! brains turn o' the toe like a parish top. What, Sir Toby. Then hadst thou had an excellent wench? Castiliano vulgo; for here comes Sir head of hair. Andrew Agueface.
Sir And. Why, would that have mended my
hair? Enter Sir Andrew AGUECHEEK.
Sir Toby. Past question; for thou seest it will Sir And. Sir Toby Belch! how now, Sir Toby not curl by nature. Belch?
Sir And. But it becomes me well enough, does 't Sir Toby. Sweet Sir Andrew!
not? Sir And. Bless you, fair shrew.
Sir Toby. Excellent! it hangs like flax on a disMar. And you too, sir.
taff; and I hope to see a housewife take thee Sir Toby. Accost, Sir Andrew, accost. between her legs, and spin it off. Sir And. What's that.
Sir And. 'Faith, I 'll home to-morrow, Sir Toby: Sir Toby. My niece's chambermaid.
your niece will not be seen; or, if she be, it's four Sir And. Good Mistress Accost, I desire better to one she 'll none of me: the count himself, here acquaintance.
hard by, wooes her. Mar. My name is Mary, sir.
Sir Toby. She 'll none o' the count; she 'll not Sir And. Good Mistress Mary Accost, match above her degree; neither in estate, years,
Sir Toby. You mistake, knight; accost is, front nor wit; I have heard her swear it. Tut, there's her, board her, woo her, assail her.
life in 't, man. Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake Sir And. I'll stay a month longer. I am a her in this company. Is that the meaning of accost? fellow o' the strangest mind i' the world; I Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen.
delight in masques and revels sometimes altoSir Toby. An' thou let part so, Sir Andrew, gether. ’would thou mightst never draw sword again. Sir Toby. Art thou good at these kickshaws,
Sir And. An' you part so, mistress, I would I knight? might never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you | Sir And. As any man in Illyria, whatsoever think you have fools in hand ?
he be, under the degree of my betters; and yet Mar. Sir, I have not you by the hand.
I will not compare with an old man. Sir And. Marry, but you shall have: and Sir Toby. What is thy excellence in a galliard, here's my hand.
knight? Mar. Now, sir, thought is free: I pray you, Sir And. Faith, I can cut a caper. bring your hand to the buttery-bar, and let it drink. Sir Toby. And I can cut the mutton to 't.
Sir And. Wherefore, sweet heart? what's your Sir And. And I think I have the back-trick metaphor ?
simply as strong as any man in Illyria. Mar. It's dry, sir.
Sir Toby. Wherefore are these things hid? Sir And. Why, I think so; I am not such an ass wherefore have these gifts a curtain before them? but I can keep my hand dry. But what's your jest? are they like to take dust, like Mistress Mall's Mar. A dry jest, sir.
picture? why dost thou not go to church in a Sir And. Are you full of them ?
galliard, and come home in a coranto? My very Mar. Ay, sir; I have them at my fingers' ends: walk should be a jig! I would not so much as marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren. make water but in a sink-a-pace. What dost
[Exit Maria. thou mean? is it a world to hide virtues in? I Sir Toby. O knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary: 1 did think, by the excellent constitution of thy When did I see thee so put down?
leg, it was formed under the star of a galliard. Sir And. Never in your life, I think: unless you Sir And. Ay, 't is strong, and it does indiffesee canary put me down: Methinks, sometimes rent well in a flame-coloured stock. Shall we I have no more wit than a Christian, or an ordinary set about some revels ? man has: but I am a great eater of beef, and I Sir Toby. What shall we do else? were we not believe that does harm to my wit.
born under Taurus ?