Twelfth Night | Page 4

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. 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 company And sight 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 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.]

SCENE III. A Room in OLIVIA'S House.
[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 Ague-cheek?
MARIA. Ay, he.
SIR TOBY. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria.
MARIA. What's that to the 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. Fye that you'll say so! he plays o' the viol-de-gambo, 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 subtractors 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 coystril that will not drink to my niece till his brains turn o' the toe like a parish-top. What, wench! Castiliano-vulgo! for here comes Sir Andrew Ague-face.
[Enter SIR ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK.]
AGUE-CHEEK. Sir Toby Belch! how now, Sir Toby Belch!
SIR TOBY. Sweet Sir Andrew?
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 chamber-maid.
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