Enter VALENTINE. Val.So please my Lord, I might not lve admitted, But from her hand-maid 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-offcuding brine: all this, to season A L'rother's dead love, which she would keep

fresh, And lasting, in her sad 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 lovc, wlien the rich golden shaft, Hath killd the flock ef all affections else That live in her! wlien liver, brain, and heart, These sovereign throues, are all supply'd, and fillid, (Her sweet perfectious,) with one seif King! Away before me to swect beds of flowers ; Love-thoughts lie rich, when canopy'd with bowers.

(Exeunt.

Enter VIOLA, Captain, and Sailors.
Vio. What country, friends, is this?
Cap. Illyria, Lady.

Vio. And what should I do in Illyria ?
My brother he is in Elysiam.
Perchance, he is not drown'd: What think

you, sailors ? Cap. It is perchance, that you yourself were

say'd.

Vio. O my poor brother! and 50, perchance,

may he le.

Cap. True, Madam: and, to comfort you with

chance, Assure yourself, after our ship did split, When you, and that poor number sav'd with yout, 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'è 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 unfoldeili to my hope, Whereto thy speech serves for authority, The like of him. Know'st thou this country?

Cap. Ay, Madam, well; for I was bred and born, Not three hours travel from this very place.

Vio. Who governs, here?
Cap. A noble Duke in nature, as in name.
Vio. What is his name?
Cap. Orsino.

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

Cap. And so is now, Or was so very late: for but a month, Ago I went from hence : and then 'iwas fresh In murmur, (as, you know, what great oncs do, The less will prattle of,) that he did seek The love of fair Olivia.

Vio. What's she?

Cap. A virtuous 'maid, the daughter of a Count That dy'd some twelve-month since; then leaving her In the protection of his son, her brother, Who shortly also dy'ú: 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 ovn occasion mellow,
What my estate is !

Cap. That were hard to compass;
Because she will admit no kind of suit,
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 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 musick, 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 !

Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be ; When my, tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see!

Vio. I thank thee: Lead me on, [Exeunt.

SCENE III.

A room in Olivia's house.

Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, and MARIA. Sir To. What a plague means my niece, to 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 o’nights; your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions to your ill hours.

Sir To. Why, let her except before excepted.

Mør. Ay, but you must confine yourself withe in 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, he.
Sir To. He's as talt a man as any's in Illyria.
Mar. What's that to the purpose ?
Sir To. Wlay, he has three thousand ducats a year.

Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all the• se ducals; he's a very fool, and a prodigal.

Sir. To. Fie, that you'll say so! he plays on the viol-de-gambo, and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature.

Mar. 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 10 allay the gust he hath in quarreling, 'tis thonght among the prudent, he would quickly have the gift of a grave.

Sir To. By this hand, they are scoundrels, and substractors, that say so of him. Who are they?

Mar. They that add moreover, he's drunk night. ly in your company.

Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece ;

P'll drink to her, as long as there's a passage is «my throat, and drink in Illyria:, He's a coward, and a coystrii, 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.
Sir And. Sir Toby Belch! how now, Sir Toby

Belch ?
Sir To. Sweet Sir Andrew !
Sir And. Bless you, fair shrew.
Mar. And you too, Sir.
Sir To. Accost, Sir Andrew, accost.
Sir And. What's that?
Sir To. My niece's chamber-maid.

Sir And. Good Mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance.

Mar. My name is Mary, Sir.
Sir And. Good Mistress Mary Accost,

Sir To. You mistake, Knight : accost, is, front her, board her, woo her, assail her.

Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake her in this company.

Is that the meaning of accost? Mar. Fare you well, Gentlemen,

Sir To. An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, 'would thon might'st never draw sword again.

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 your by the 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 the buttery - bar, and let it drink.