TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL. ACT I. 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: O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound a That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing, and giving odour.-Enough; no more; 'T is not so sweet now as it was before. O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou! a Like the sweet sound. To those who are familiar with the well-known text, "O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south," the restoration of the word sound, which is the reading of all the early editions, will at first appear strange and startling. But Shakspere has nowhere made the south an odour-breathing wind; his other representations are directly contrary. In As You Like It,' Rosalind says, "You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her In 'Romeo and Juliet' we have the "dew-dropping south;" in 'Cymbeline,' "The south-fog rot him." That, notwithstanding thy capacity But falls into abatement and low price, Even in a minute! so full of shapes is fancy, Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord? Duke. Cur. What, Curio? The hart. Duke. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have : And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, E'er since pursue me.-How now? what news from her? Val. So please my lord, I might not be admitted, 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, Heat-heated. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-The Sea-coast. Enter VIOLA, Captain, and Sailors. Vio. What country, friends, is this? 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 he be Cap. True, madam; and to comfort you with chance, Assure yourself, after our ship did split, When you, and those poor number sav'd with you, (Courage and hope both teaching him the practice) I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves, Vio. Whereto thy speech serves for authority, The like of him. Know'st thou this country? Vio. Who governs here? Cap. A noble duke, in nature as in 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 't was fresh in murmur, (as, you know, 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 died for whose dear love, They say, she hath abjur'd the sight And company of men. Vio. O, that I serv'd that lady: And might not be deliver'd to the world, 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; 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 a' 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. 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' the violde-gamboys, 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, be 's a great quarreller; and but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath in Tall-stout, bold. b Viol-de-gamboys-a kind of violoncello. |