F mufick be the food of love, play on, O, it came o'er my ear, like the fweet fouth Stealing, and giving odour. Hush! no more; O fpirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou! But falls into abatement and low price, Nnn 2 That a found. That it alone is high fantastical. Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord? Duke. What, Curio? Cur. The hart. Duke. Why fo I do, the nobleft that I have: And my defires, like E'er fince pursue me. fell and cruel hounds, How now, what news from her? Enter Valentine. Val. So please my lord, I might not be admitted, The element it self, 'till seven years hence, Duke. O fhe that hath a heart of that fine frame, Love-thoughts lye rich, when canopy'd with bowers. [Exeunt. SCENE Vio. SCENE II. The STREET. Enter Viola, a Captain and Sailors. WHAT HAT country, friends, is this? Vio. And what fhould I do in Illyria? Perchance he is not drown'd; what think you, failors? When you, and that poor number fav'd with you, (Courage and hope both teaching him the practice) I faw him hold acquaintance with the waves, Vio. There's gold for faying fo. Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope, 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. ·Cap. Orfino. Vio. Vio. Orfino! I have heard my father name him Cap. And fo is now, or was fo very late; Vio. What's fhe? Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a Count, They fay, fhe hath abjur'd the fight And company of men. Vio. O that I ferv'd that lady, And might not be deliver'd to the world, Cap. That were hard to compass, Because she will admit no kind of fuit, No, not the Duke's. Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, captain; That That will allow me very worth his service. Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be: SCENE III. Olivia's House. Enter Sir Toby, and Maria. [Exeunt. Sir To. Weath of her brother thus? I am fure care's an HAT a plague means my neice to take the enemy to life. Mar. By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier anights; your neice, my lady, takes great exceptions to your ill hours. Sir To. Why let her except, before excepted. Mar. Ay, but you must confine your felf within the modest limits of order. Sir To. Confine? I'll confine my felf no finer than I am; these clothes are good enough to drink in, and fo be these boots too; if 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 tall a man as any in Illyria. Mar. What's that to th' purpose? Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats a year. Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats: he's a very fool, and a prodigal. Sir To. |