TWELFTH-NIGHT:
OR,
WHAT YOU WILL.
I
DUKE.
F mufick be the food of love, play on,
Give me excess of it; that, furfeiting,
The appetite may ficken, and fo die.
That train 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. Hufh! no more;
'Tis not fo fweet now as it was before.
O fpirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou!
That, notwithstanding thy capacity
Receiveth as the fea, nought enters there
Of what validity and pitch foe'er,
But falls into abatement and low price,
Even in a minute: fo full of shapes is fancy,
And thou all o'er art high fantastical.
Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord?
Duke. What, Curio?
VOL. II.
Gur. The hart.
Duke. Why, fo I do, the nobleft that I have:
O, when mine eyes did fee Olivia firft,
Methought, fhe purg'd the air of peftilence;
That inftant was I turn'd into a hart;
And my defires, like fell and cruel hounds,
E'er fince 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 hence,
Shall not behold her face at ample view;
But, like a cloiftrefs, fhe will veiled walk,
And water once a day her chambers round
With eye-offending brine: all this to season
A brother's dead love, which fhe would keep fresh
And lasting in her fad remembrance still.
Duke. Ŏ, fhe 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 fhaft
Hath kill'd the flock of all affections elfe
That live in her! when liver, brain, and heart,
Three fov'reign thrones, are all supply'd, and fill'd,
Her sweet perfections, with one self-same king!
Away before me to fweet beds of flowers;
Lovethoughts lie rich, when canopy'd with bowers.
SCENE II.
The Street.
Enter Viola, a Captain, and Sailors.
HAT country, friends, is this?
Capt. Illyria, lady.
Vio. And what fhould I do in Illyria?.
My brother he is in Elyfum.
Perchance, he is not drown'd: what think you, failors?
Cap. It is perchance that you yourself were fav'd.
Vio. O my poor brother! fo, perchance, may he be.
Cap. True, madam: and, to comfort you with chance,
Affure yourself, after our fhip did split,
When you, and that poor number fav'd with you,
Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother,
Moft provident in peril, bind himself
(Courage and hope both teaching him the practice)
To a ftrong maft that liv'd upon the fea;
Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back,
I faw him hold acquaintance with the waves,
So long as I could fee.
Vio. There's gold for faying fo.
Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,
Whereto thy fpeech ferves for authority,
The like of him. And knoweft 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,
As in his name.
Vio. What is his name?
Cap. Orfino.
Vio. Orfino! I have heard my father name him: He was a bachelor then.
Cap. And fo is now, or was fo
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 lefs will prattle of)
That he did feek the love of fair Olivia.
Vio. What's fhe?
Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count, That dy'd fome twelve months fince, then leaving her Hhh 2
In the protection of his fon, her brother,
Who fhortly alfo dy'd: for whofe dear love,
They fay, the hath abjur'd the company
And fight of men.
Vio. O, that I ferv'd that lady,
And't might not be deliver'd to the world,
Till I had made mine own occafion mellow,
What my eftate is!
Cap. That were hard to compass,
Because she will admit no kind of fuit,
No, not the duke's.
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 haft a mind that suits
With this thy fair and outward character.
I pr'ythee, 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 ferve this duke,
Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him,
It may be worth thy pains; for I can fing,
And speak to him in many forts of mufick,
That will allow me very worth his service.
What else may hap, to time I will commit;
Only shape thou thy filence to my wit.
Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be:
When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not fee!
Vio. I thank thee: lead me on.
SCENE III.
Olivia's house.
Enter for Toby, and Maria.
HAT a plague means my niece, to take the death of her brother thus? I am fure, care's an
enemy to life.
Mar. By my troth, fir Toby, you must come in earlier o'nights; your niece, 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 modeft limits of order.
Sir To. Confine? I'll confine myself no finer than I am; these cloths are good enough to drink in, and so be these boots too; if 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, fir Andrew Ague-cheek?
Mar. Ay, he.
Sir To. He's as tall a man as any in Illyria.
Mar. What's that to th' 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. Fie, that you'll fay fo! he plays o'th' viol-de-gambo, and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature.
Mar. He hath, indeed, almoft natural; for, befides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreler; and, but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the guft he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among the prudent, he would quickly have the gift of a grave.
|