Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians, and other Attendants. SCENE: A city in Illyria, and the sea coast near it. TWELFTH NIGHT: OR, WHAT YOU WILL. ACT I. SCENE I. A room in the DUKE's palace. Enter DUKE, CURIO, and other Lords; Musicians attending. Duke. If music be the food of love, play on; O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound Stealing and giving odour! Enough; no more: O spirit of love! how quick and fresh art thou, But falls into abatement and low price, Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord? Cur. The hart. What, Curio? Duke. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have: O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first, Methought she purged the air of pestilence! And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, Enter VALENTINE. How now! what news from her? Val. So please my lord, I might not be admitted; But from her handmaid do return this answer: ΙΟ 20 The element itself, till seven years heat, A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh 30 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, Away before me to sweet beds of flowers: 40 Love-thoughts lie rich when canopied with bowers. [Exeunt. SCENE II. The sea-coast. Enter VIOLA, a Captain, and Sailors. Vio. What country, friends, is this? Cap. This is 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? 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 those poor number saved 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, 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. Cap. A noble duke, in nature as in name. Vio. What is his name? Cap. Orsino. 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 in murmur,-as, you know, What great ones do the less will prattle of,- Vio. What's she? Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count That died some twelvemonth since, then leaving her Vio. O that I served that lady 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: 30 4c 50 60 [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. 8 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 Aguecheek? 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. 20 Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats: he's a very fool and a prodigal. Sir To. Fie, that you'll say so! he plays o' the viol-degamboys, 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, 't is thought among the prudent he would quickly have the gift of a grave. 30 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 coystrill 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 Agueface. 40 |