The arden shakespeare co.., p.523
The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works, page 523
VIOLA What country, friends, is this?
CAPTAIN This is Illyria, lady.
VIOLA And what should I do in Illyria?
My brother he is in Elysium.
Perchance he is not drown’d: what think you, sailors?
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CAPTAIN It is perchance that you yourself were sav’d.
VIOLA
O my poor brother! and so perchance may he be.
CAPTAIN
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
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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,
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I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves
So long as I could see.
VIOLA For saying so, there’s gold:
Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,
Whereto thy speech serves for authority,
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The like of him. Know’st thou this country?
CAPTAIN Ay, madam, well, for I was bred and born
Not three hours’ travel from this very place.
VIOLA Who governs here?
CAPTAIN A noble duke, in nature as in name.
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VIOLA What is his name?
CAPTAIN Orsino.
VIOLA Orsino! I have heard my father name him.
He was a bachelor then.
CAPTAIN And so is now, or was so very late;
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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.
VIOLA What’s she?
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CAPTAIN 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
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And sight of men.
VIOLA O that I serv’d that lady,
And might not be deliver’d to the world,
Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,
What my estate is.
CAPTAIN That were hard to compass,
Because she will admit no kind of suit,
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No, not the Duke’s.
VIOLA 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
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With this thy fair and outward character.
I prithee (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;
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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;
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Only shape thou thy silence to my wit.
CAPTAIN Be you his eunuch, and your mute I’ll be:
When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see.
VIOLA I thank thee. Lead me on. Exeunt.
1.3 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 my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier
o’ nights: your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions
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to your ill hours.
SIR TOBY Why, let her except, before excepted.
MARIA Ay, but you must confine yourself within the
modest limits of order.
SIR TOBY Confine? I’ll confine myself no finer than I
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am. These clothes are good enough to drink in, and so
be these boots too: and they be not, let them hang
themselves in their own straps.
MARIA That quaffing and drinking will undo you: I
heard my lady talk of it yesterday; and of a foolish
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knight that you brought in one night here to be her
wooer.
SIR TOBY Who, Sir Andrew Aguecheek?
MARIA Ay, he.
SIR TOBY He’s as tall a man as any’s in Illyria.
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MARIA What’s that to th’ purpose?
SIR TOBY Why, he has three thousand ducats a year.
MARIA Ay, but he’ll have but a year in all these ducats.
He’s a very fool, and a prodigal.
SIR TOBY Fie, that you’ll say so! he plays o’th’ viol-de-
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gamboys, and speaks three or four languages word for
word without book, and hath all the good gifts of
nature.
MARIA He hath indeed all, most natural: for besides that
he’s a fool, he’s a great quarreller; and but that he hath
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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 TOBY By this hand, they are scoundrels and
substractors that say so of him. Who are they?
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MARIA They that add, moreover, he’s drunk nightly in
your company.
SIR TOBY 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 coistrel that will
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not drink to my niece till his brains turn o’th’ toe, like
a parish top. What, wench! Castiliano vulgo: for here
comes Sir Andrew Agueface.
Enter SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK.
SIR ANDREW Sir Toby Belch! How now, Sir Toby Belch?
SIR TOBY Sweet Sir Andrew!
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SIR ANDREW Bless you, fair shrew.
MARIA And you too, sir.
SIR TOBY Accost, Sir Andrew, accost.
SIR ANDREW What’s that?
SIR TOBY My niece’s chambermaid.
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SIR ANDREW Good Mistress Accost, I desire better
acquaintance.
MARIA My name is Mary, sir.
SIR ANDREW Good Mistress Mary Accost –
SIR TOBY You mistake, knight. ‘Accost’ is front her,
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board her, woo her, assail her.
SIR ANDREW By my troth, I would not undertake her in
this company. Is that the meaning of ‘accost’?
MARIA Fare you well, gentlemen.
SIR TOBY And thou let part so, Sir Andrew, would thou
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might’st never draw sword again!
SIR ANDREW And you part so, mistress, I would I might
never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think you
have fools in hand?
MARIA Sir, I have not you by th’ hand.
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SIR ANDREW Marry, but you shall have, and here’s my
hand.
MARIA Now, sir, thought is free. I pray you bring your
hand to th’ buttery bar and let it drink.
SIR ANDREW Wherefore, sweetheart? What’s your
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metaphor?
MARIA It’s dry, sir.
SIR ANDREW Why, I think so: I am not such an ass but I
can keep my hand dry. But what’s your jest?
MARIA A dry jest, sir.
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SIR ANDREW Are you full of them?
MARIA Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers’ ends: marry,
now I let go your hand, I am barren. Exit Maria.
SIR TOBY O knight, thou lack’st a cup of canary: when
did I see thee so put down?
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SIR ANDREW Never in your life, I think, unless you see
canary put me down. Methinks sometimes I have no
more wit than a Christian or an ordinary man has: but
I am a great eater of beef, and I believe that does harm
to my wit.
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SIR TOBY No question.
SIR ANDREW And I thought that, I’d forswear it. I’ll ride
home to-morrow, Sir Toby.
SIR TOBY Pourquoi, my dear knight?
SIR ANDREW What is pourquoi? Do, or not do? I would I
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had bestowed that time in the tongues that I have in
fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting. O, had I but
followed the arts!
SIR TOBY Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair.
SIR ANDREW Why, would that have mended my hair?
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SIR TOBY Past question, for thou seest it will not curl by
nature.
SIR ANDREW
But it becomes me well enough, does’t not?
SIR TOBY Excellent, it hangs like flax on a distaff; and I
hope to see a housewife take thee between her legs,
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and spin it off.
SIR ANDREW Faith, I’ll home to-morrow, Sir Toby; your
niece will not be seen, or if she be, it’s four to one
she’ll none of me: the Count himself here hard by
woos her.
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SIR TOBY She’ll none o’th’ Count; she’ll not match
above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; I
have heard her swear’t. Tut, there’s life in’t, man.
SIR ANDREW I’ll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o’th’
strangest mind i’th’ world: I delight in masques and
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revels sometimes altogether.
SIR TOBY Art thou good at these kickshawses, knight?
SIR ANDREW As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be,
under the degree of my betters; and yet I will not
compare with an old man.
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SIR TOBY What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight?
SIR ANDREW Faith, I can cut a caper.
SIR TOBY And I can cut the mutton to’t.
SIR ANDREW And I think I have the back-trick simply as
strong as any man in Illyria.
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SIR TOBY Wherefore are these things hid? Wherefore
have these gifts a curtain before ’em? Are they like to
take dust, like Mistress Mall’s picture? Why dost thou
not go to church in a galliard, and come home in a
coranto? My very walk should be a jig; I would not so
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much as make water but in a sink-a-pace. What dost
thou mean? Is it a world to hide virtues in? I did think,
by the excellent constitution of thy leg, it was formed
under the star of a galliard.
SIR ANDREW Ay, ’tis strong, and it does indifferent well
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in a damned coloured stock. Shall we set about some
revels?
SIR TOBY What shall we do else? were we not born
under Taurus?
SIR ANDREW Taurus? That’s sides and heart.
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SIR TOBY No, sir, it is legs and thighs. Let me see thee
caper. Ha, higher! Ha, ha, excellent! Exeunt.
1.4 Enter VALENTINE, and VIOLA in man’s attire.
VALENTINE If the Duke continue these favours towards
you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanced: he
hath known you but three days, and already you are no
stranger.
VIOLA You either fear his humour, or my negligence,
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that you call in question the continuance of his love. Is
he inconstant, sir, in his favours?
VALENTINE No, believe me.
Enter DUKE, CURIO and attendants.
VIOLA I thank you. Here comes the Count.
ORSINO Who saw Cesario, ho?
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VIOLA On your attendance, my lord, here.
ORSINO [to Curio and attendants]
Stand you awhile aloof. [to Viola] Cesario,
Thou know’st no less but all: I have unclasp’d
To thee the book even of my secret soul.
