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TWELFTH-NIGHT, or, WHAT YOU WILL. .
Dyk. If musick be the food of love, play on,
$ sweet found
Cur. Will you go
lord ? Duk. What, Curio? Cur. The hart.
Duk. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have : 0, when mine eyes did see Olivia first, (Methought, she purg'd the air of pestilence) That instant was I turn'd into a hart; And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, E’er since pursue me.-How now? what news from her?
Duk. O, she, that hath a heart of that fine frame, To pay
this debt of love but to a brother, How will the love, when the rich golden shaft Hath kill'd the flock of all affections else That live in her! when liver, brain, and heart, These fovereign thrones, are all supply'd, and fill'd, (Her sweet perfection) with one self-fame king! Away before me to sweet beds of Aowers ; Love-thoughts lye rich, when canopy'd with bowers.
SCENE II. The Sea-coaft.
Enter VIOLA, Captain, and Sailors. V10. What country, friends, is this?
13 yeares heate, 26 perfections
Cap. This is Illyria, lady.
V10. And what should I do in Illyria? My brother he is in Elyzium. Perchance, he is not drown'd:_What think you, sailors?
Cap. It is perchance, that you yourself were sav’d. (be. Vio. O my poor brother!_and fo, perchance, may he
Cap. True, madam: and, to comfort you with chance,
V10. For saying so, there's † gold:
Cap. Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and born
V10. Who governs here?
Cap. A noble duke in nature,
V10. What is his name?
Dio. Orfino ! I have heard my father name him :
Cap. And so is now, or was so very late:
What great ones do, the less will prattle of)
V10. What's the ?
V10. o, that I serv'd that lady ;
» Cap. That were hard to compass ; Because she will admit no kind of suit, No, not the duke's.
V10. There is a fair behaviour in thee, captain ;
Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be :
8 sight | And company
When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see !
SC NE III. A Room in Olivia's House.
Enter Sir TOBY, and MARIA. Sir T. 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, fir Toby, you must come in earlier o'nights ; your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions to your ill hours.
Sir T. Why, let her except, before excepted.
MAR. Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modeft limits of order.
Sir T. Confine? I'll confine myself no finer than I am : these cloaths 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
Sir T. Who? fir Andrew Ague-cheek?
MAR. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats; he's a very fool, and a prodigal.
Sir T. Fie, that you'll say so! he plays o'the violde-gambo, and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and hath all the good gifts