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Cur. The hart.
Duke. Why, fo I do, the noblest that I have: O, when my Eyes did fee 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?
Enter Valentine. Val. So please my Lord, I might not be admitted, But from her hand-maid do return this answer: The element itself, 'till feven years hence, Shall not behold her face at ample view; But, like a cloystress, fhe will veiled walk, And water once a day her chamber round With eye-offending brine : all this to seafon A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh And lasting in her fad 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 elfe That live in her ? when liver, brain, and heart, Three fov'reign thrones, are all fupply'd, and fillid, (* O sweet perfection! )with one self-fame King! Away before me to fweet beds of flowers ; love-thoughts lie rich, when canopy'd with bowers.
[Exeunt, SCENE II.
Enter Viola, a Captain and Sailors. Vio. !
HAT country, friends, is this?
Cap. Illyria, Lady. Vio. And what should I do in Illyria ? * Her sweet perfe&tions!) We should read, and point it thus,
( sweet perfection!)
My brother he is in Elysum.-
Cap. It is perchance, that you yourself were fav’d.
Cap. True, Madam: and to comfort you with
Vio. For saying so, there's gold.
Cap. Ay, Madam, well; for I was bred and born,
Vio. Who governs here?
Vio. Orsino! I have heard my father name him:
Vio. What's Ine?
Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a Count,
Vio. O, that I serv'd that lady,
Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, Captain;
Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be:
eyes not see.
An Apartment in Olivia's House.
Enter Sir Toby, and Maria.
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 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 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, 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' violdegambo,, and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and hatli all the good gifts of nature.
Mar. Hchath, 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, 'tis thought among the prů. dent, he would quickly have the gift of a grave
Sir To. By this hand, they are scoundrels and subtractors' that say fo 'of him. Who are they?. 9
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's 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 ? *Castiliano Volto; for here comes Sir Andrew Ague-cheek.
# Castiliano vulgo ;] We should read volto. English, put on your Castilian Countenance; that is, your grave, solemn Looks.
vi S CE N E IV.
Enter Sir Andrew. Sir And.
IR Toby Belch, how now, Sir Toby Beleh? Sir And. Bless you, fair shrew. Mar. And you too, Sir. Sir To. Accoft, Sir Andrew, accoft. Sir And. What's that ? Sir To. My niece's chamber-maid.
Sir And. Good mistress. Accot, I defire better acquaintance.
Mar. My name is Mary, Sira
Sir To. You mistake, Knight: accolt, is, front het, board her, woo her, assail her.
Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake her in this company. Is that the meaning of accoft? ?
Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen. Sir To. An thou let her part lo, Sir Andrews would thou might'st never draw sword again. 7. , vel in
Trein) Sir And. An you part so, mistress, I would I might never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think, you have fools in hand?
Mar. Sir, I have not you by th' hand. ,
Sir And. Marry, but you shall have, and here's my hand. ?
Mar. Now, Sir, thought is free: I pray you, bring your hand to th' buttery-bar, and let it drink,
Sir And. Wherefore, sweet heart? what's your me.. taphor? Mar. It's dry, Sir.
Sir And. Why, I think so: I am not such an ass, but I can keep my hand dry. But what's your jest ?
Mar. A dry jest, Sir.