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Curio. Will you go hunt, my lord?
Duke. What, Curio?
Cur. 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?
Valentine, 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. 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, Those sovereign thrones, are all suppli'd and fill'd, — Her sweet perfections, — with one self king ! — Away before me to sweet beds of flowers; Love-thoughts lie rich, when canopi'd with, bowers.
Enter Viola, Captain, and Sailors.
Viola. What country, friends, is this?Captain. 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?
Cap. It is perchance that you yourself were sav'd. Vio. O my poor brother! and so, perchance, may
Vio. For saying so, there's gold:
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 name. Vio. What is his name?
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,) 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 her In the protection of his son, her brother, Who shortly also di'd: for whose dear love, They say, she hath abjur'd the company And sight of men.
Vio. 0 that I serv'd that lady,
And might not be delivered to the wrorld,
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; 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 charactei. 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 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;
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.
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.
Maria. By mytroth, 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 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 say so! He plays o' th' viol-de-gamboys, and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of Nature.
Mar. He hath, indeed, all most 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' th' toe like a parish top. What, wench! Castilianovulgo; for here comes Sir Andrew Ague-face.
Enter Sir Andrew Ague-cheek. Sir Andrew. Sir Toby Belch! how now, Sir Toby Belch!
Sir To. Sweet Sir Andrew!Sir And. Bless you, fair shrew. Mar. And you too, sir. Sir To. Accost, Sir Andrew, accost. Sir And. What's that?Sir To. My niece's chambermaid. Sir And. Good Mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance.
Mar. My name is Mary, sir.
Sir And. Good Mistress Mary Accost, —