TWELFTH-NIGHT

ACT I SCENE I

A ROOM IN THE DUKE'S PALACE.

Enter Duke, Curio, and Lords; Musicians attending.

DUKE.

Ir music be the food of love, play on,
Give me excefs 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 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 soever,

But falls into abatement and low price,

Even in a minute! so full of shapes is fancy,

That it alone is high-fantastical.

Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord?

:

2

Duke. What, Curio?

Cur. The hart.

Duke. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have:
O, when mine did see Olivia first,

eyes

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?

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 cloistrefs, 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.

To

Duke. O, she, that hath a heart of that fine frame,
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,

These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and fill'd,
(Her sweet perfections,) with one self-king!

Away before me to sweet beds of flowers;

Love-thoughts lie rich, when canopy'd with bowers. [Exeunt.

SCENE II

THE SEA-COAST.

Enter Viola, Captain, and Sailors.

Vio. What country, friends, is this?

Capt. Illyria, lady.

Vio. And what should I do in Illyria?

My brother he is in Elysium.

Perchance, he is not drown'd:

not drown'd:—What think you, sailors?
Capt. It is perchance, that you yourself were sav'd.
Vio. O my poor brother! and so, perchance, may he be.
Capt. True, madam: and, to comfort you with chance,
Afsure yourself, after our ship did split,

When you, and this poor number sav'd 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 liv'd 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?

Capt. Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and born,

Not three hours' travel from this very place.

Vio. Who governs here?

Capt. A noble duke, in nature, as in name.

Vio. What is his name?

Capt. Orsino.

Vio. Orsino! I have heard my father name him: He was a bachelor then.

Capt. 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 lefs will prattle of,) that he did seek
The love of fair Olivia.

Vio. What's she?

Capt. 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 company

And sight of men.

Vio. O, that I serv'd that lady;

And might not be deliver'd to the world,

Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,

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.