Read William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition Online

Authors: William Shakespeare

Tags: #Drama, #Literary Criticism, #Shakespeare

William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (329 page)

BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
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Twelfth Night, or What You Will
 
1.1
Music. Enter Orsino Duke of Illyria, Curio, and
other lords
 
ORSINO
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
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour. Enough, no more,
’Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
⌈
Music ceases
⌉
 
O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou
That, notwithstanding thy capacity
Receiveth as the sea, naught enters there,
Of what validity and pitch so e’er,
But falls into abatement and low price
Even in a minute! So full of shapes is fancy
That it alone is high fantastical.
CURIO
Will you go hunt, my lord?
ORSINO
What, Curio?
CURIO
The hart.
ORSINO
Why so I do, the noblest that I have.
O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first
Methought she purged the air of pestilence;
That instant was I turned into a hart,
And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,
E’er since pursue me.
Enter Valentine
 
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.
ORSINO
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 killed the flock of all affections else
That live in her—when liver, brain, and heart,
These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and filled
Her sweet perfections with one self king!
Away before me to sweet beds of flowers.
Love-thoughts lie rich when canopied with bowers.
Exeunt
1.2
Enter Viola, a Captain, and sailors
 
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 drowned. What think you sailors?
CAPTAIN
It is perchance that you yourself were saved.
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 saved 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 lived 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.
VIOLA (giving money)
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?
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.
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,
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?
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 abjured the sight
And company of men.
VIOLA
O that I served that lady,
And might not be delivered 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,
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
With this thy fair and outward character.
I pray thee—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.
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 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 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.
MARIA 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 TOBY Who, Sir Andrew Aguecheek?
MARIA Ay, he.
SIR TOBY He’s as tall a man as any’s in Illyria.
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-gamboys, and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature.
MARIA He hath 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 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?
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 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.
SIR ANDREW (
to Maria
) 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.
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, 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 An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, would thou mightst never draw sword again.
SIR ANDREW An 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.
SIR ANDREW Marry, but you shall have, and here’s my hand.
MARIA (
taking his hand
) 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 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.
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
SIR TOBY O knight, thou lackest a cup of canary. When did I see thee so put down?
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.
SIR TOBY No question.
SIR ANDREW An I thought that, I’d forswear it. I’ll ride home tomorrow, Sir Toby.
SIR TOBY
Pourquoi
, my dear knight?
SIR ANDREW What is ‘Pourquoi’? Do, or not do? I would I 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?
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 and spin it off.
SIR ANDREW Faith, I’ll home tomorrow, 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.
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 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.
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.
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 much as make water but in a cinquepace. 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 in a divers-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.
SIR TOBY No, sir, it is legs and thighs: let me see thee caper.
BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
10.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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