ACT 1 SCENE 1 - INT. Orsino's palace
- day
(Musicians take their seat and play.)
Enter Duke Orsino. Orsino is on the extended balcony, while
everyone else is below. Curio and musicians (and perhaps other lords) are below
on the main stage floor, separated by a bank of violets. Curio is sitting on a
chair, eating some hunt food. Musicians pause suddenly in
silence when Orsino pops out to view on the balcony; they resume when Orsino
gives the word.
duke orsino
If music be the food of Love, play on, give me excess of
it:
(gestures to musicians, then looks down at Curio et al)
that surfeiting, the appetite may sicken, and so die...
(pause to listen to music.)
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.
(pensive nostalgic, chin on hands on balcony, peering
down at the bank of violets below. then suddenly backs away.)
Enough, no more, 'tis not so sweet now, as it was before.
(Music ends, musicians leave.)
O
Spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou, that notwithstanding thy
capacity, receiveth as the Sea. Nought enters there, of what validity, and
pitch so ere, 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?
DUKE ORSINO
What Curio?
CURIO
The Hart.
DUKE ORSINO
Why, so I do, the Noblest that I have: O 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, ere since
pursue me.
Curio, who has finished eating (Curio: click on food pieces
to toggle transparency), hmmph's and leaves. The
musicians follow him, leaving Duke Orsino alone.
Enter Valentine from one of the lower doors.
Duke Orsino
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 veilèd 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.
Light beams converge on Orsino, and drift to the empty plate
of hart when Orsino mentions "kill'd the flock."
DUKE 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
kill'd the flock of all affections else that live in her - when liver, brain,
and heart, these sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and fill'd her sweet
perfections with one self king!
(Approaches balcony bannister/edge again)
Away before me to sweet beds of flowers: Love-thoughts lie
rich when canopied with bowers.
Duke Orsino jumps and falls into the bed of violets on the
main floor (stays down till scene change). Valentine exits.
Act 1 Scene 2 - ext. Illyrian coast -
stormlight
Viola and Captain are each sitting beneath a palm tree (each
located where Globe stage columns are),
staring at the audience.
viola
What country, friend, 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 drown'd. What think you, sailor?
CAPTAIN
It is perchance that you yourself were sav'd.
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 sav'd 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 liv'd
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.
Viola gets up from her palm tree, and walks over to the
Captain's tree. Captain stands to receive coins. Viola returns to palm tree.
Both stare at the audience again.
VIOLA
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? (listens intently)
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 abjur'd the
company and sight of men.
VIOLA
(immediately)
O that I serv'd that lady, and might not be deliver'd 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 fair behavior 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.
Viola rises and looks towards the Captain. The captain also
rises and looks towards Viola.
viola
I prithee - 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 the 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.
They meet centerstage, in accord.
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 all.
ACT 1 SCENE 3 - ext. Outside olivia's
house - night
Enter Toby and Maria, but from different doors: Toby enters
from a tavern, while Maria enters (from within Olivia's house) and descends the
stairs to street level. There's a
Taurus sign above the tavern. They meet somewhat at the corner.
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 anights. Your
cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions to your ill hours.
TOBY
Why, let her except, before excepted.
MARIA
Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest limits of
order.
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.
TOBY
Who, Sir Andrew Aguecheek?
MARIA
Ay, he.
TOBY
He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria.
maria
What's that to th'purpose?
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.
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 quarreler, and but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the
gust he hath in quarreling, 'tis thought among the prudent he would quickly
have the gift of a grave.
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.
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!
(turns and takes a few steps back towards tavern)
Enter Sir Andrew Aguecheek with a bottle of Castiliano Vulgo
andrew
(belch a greeting)
Sir Toby Belch? How now, Sir Toby Belch?
(walks to Maria drunkenly before waiting for Toby's
response)
TOBY
(belch to reclaim your namesake!)
Sweet Sir Andrew.
ANDREW
(faces Toby, but stands next to Maria;
person-confusion!)
Bless you, fair shrew.
MARIA
And you too, sir.
TOBY
Accost, Sir Andrew, accost.
andrew
(walks over to Toby again) What's that?
TOBY
My niece's chambermaid.
andrew
(faces Maria)
Good Mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance.
MARIA
My name is Mary sir.
ANDREW
Good Mistress Mary Accost-
TOBY
You mistake, knight. 'Accost' is 'front her', 'board her',
'woo her', 'assail her'.
ANDREW
By my troth, I would not undertake her in this company. Is
that the meaning of 'Accost'?
MARIA
Fare you well, gentlemen.
TOBY
An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, would thou mightst never
draw sword again.
andrew
(rushes over to Maria)
An you part so, mistress, I would I might never draw sword
again. Fair lady, do you think you have fools in hand?
(He takes her hand.)
MARIA
Sir, I have not you by th'hand.
(She drops his hand.)
ANDREW
Marry, but you shall have, and here's my hand.
(He gives her his hand again.)
MARIA
Now sir, thought is free. I pray you, bring your hand to
th'buttery-bar and let it drink.
(She takes his bottle.)
ANDREW
Wherefore, sweetheart? What's your metaphor?
MARIA
It's dry, sir.
(She drops his hand again and thrusts the bottle on
him.)
Andrew
Why, I think so. I am not such an ass but I can keep my hand
dry. But what's your jest?
(He gives her his hand yet again.)
MARIA
A dry jest, sir.
(She drops his hand, yet again.)
ANDREW
Are you full of them?
(He gives her his hand one last time.)
Maria
Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers' ends. Marry, now I let go
your hand I am barren.
(She drops his hand one final time and exits.)
Andrew sets his bottle of Castiliano down, sits on a step,
pulls up his knees and looks dejected. There's a canary in a cage next to him.
TOBY
O knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary. When did I see thee
so put down?
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.
TOBY
No question.
ANDREW
An I thought that, I'd forswear it. I'll ride home tomorrow,
Sir Toby.
Toby sits down next to Andrew.
TOBY
Pourquoi, my dear knight?
Andrew takes distaff out, spins distaff with hands.
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!
TOBY
Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair.
ANDREW
Why, would that have mended my hair?
TOBY
Past question, for thou seest it will not curl by nature.
ANDREW
But it becomes me well enough, does't not?
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.
Andrew stops spinning distaff.
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.
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.
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.
TOBY
Art thou good at these kick-shawses, knight?
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.
TOBY
What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight?
ANDREW
Faith, I can cut a caper.
TOBY
And I can cut the mutton to't.
ANDREW
And I think I have the back-trick simply as strong as any man
in Illyria.
TOBY
Wherefore are these things hid? Wherefore have these gifts a
curtain before 'em?
(Toby takes the bottle of Castiliano and places it
between the two)
Are they like to take dust, like Mistress Mall's pictures?
Why
dost thou not go to church in a Galliard, and come home in a Carranto? 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 the galliard.
andrew
Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent well in a
lemon-coloured stock. Shall we set about some revels?
TOBY
What shall we do else? Were we not born under Taurus?
ANDREW
Taurus? That's sides and heart.
TOBY
No, sir, it is legs and thighs: let me see thee caper. Ha,
higher! Ha, ha, excellent!
Toby exits in a galliard and Andrew in a carranto.
Act 1 Scene 4 - int. orsino's palace - day
Enter Valentine and Viola in similar pageboy attire (after
slab on top of flowerbed has rezzed). The
scene looks like that of I.i, except the flowerbed has been replaced with
(covered by) a slab. Valentine and Viola walk onto the slab from opposite ends.
VALENTINE
If the Duke continues these favours towards you Cesario, you
are like to be much advance'd, he hath known you but three days, and already
you are no stranger.
VIOLA
You either fear his humour, or my negligence; that you call
in question the continuance of his love. Is he inconstant sir, in his favours.
VALENTINE
(immediately)
No, believe me.
Valentine walks down the slab to exit. Viola starts to
follow,
but stays when she catches sight of Orsino.
Enter Duke Orsino, Curio in light conversation (balcony).
VIOLA
I thank you: here comes the Count.
DUKE ORSINO
Who saw Cesario ho?
VIOLA
On your attendance, my Lord, here.
DUKE ORSINO
Stand you a-while aloof.
(Duke Orsino nods to Curio, who
leaves.)
Cesario, thou knowst no less, but
all: I have unclasp'd to thee the book even of my secret soul. Therefore good
youth, address thy gate unto her, be not deni'd access, stand at her doors, and
tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow till thou have audience.
VIOLA
Sure my Noble Lord, if she be so abandon'd to her sorrow as
it is spoke, she never will admit me.
DUKE ORSINO
Be clamorous, and leap all civil bounds, rather than make
unprofit'ed return.
VIOLA
Say I do speak with her, my Lord, what then?
DUKE ORSINO
O then, unfold the passion of my love, surprise her with
discourse of my dear faith; it shall become thee well to act my woes: she will
attend it better in thy youth, than in a Nuntio's of more grave aspect.
VIOLA
I think not so, my Lord.
DUKE ORSINO
(immediately)
Dear Lad, believe it; for they shall yet belie thy happy
years,
that say thou art a man: Diana's lip is not more smooth, and rubious: thy small
pipe is as the maidens organ, shrill, and sound, and all is semblative a womans
part. I know thy constellation is right apt for this affair: some four or five
attend him,
Musician (attendants) come out from lower doors.
and if you will: for I myself am best when least in company:
Musicians (attendants) leave.
prosper well in this, and thou shall live as freely as thy
Lord, to call his
fortunes thine.
VIOLA
I'll do my best to woo your Lady...
DUKE ORSINO nods and leaves. Viola stands alone centerstage
on top of where the violet bed once was. She beseeches the audience:
viola
Yet a barful strife, who e're I woo, myself would be his
wife.
Exit Viola.
act 1 scene 5 - int. olivia's house - day
Enter Maria and Clown from main stage level (downstairs).
MARIA
Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will not open
my lips so wide as a bristle may enter, in way of thy excuse: my Lady
will hang thee for thy absence.
clown
Let her hang me: he that is well hang'd in this world, needs
to fear no colours.
MARIA
Make that good.
CLOWN
He shall see none to fear.
MARIA
A good lenton answer: I can tell thee where that saying was
born, of "I fear no colours."
CLOWN
Where good mistress Mary?
MARIA
In the wars, and that may you be bold to say in your foolerie.
CLOWN
Well, God give them wisdom that have it: and those that are
fools, let them use their talents.
Feste shows off some acrobatic animations, fool's talent
(tumblewheel, among other anims).
maria
Yet you will be hang'd for being so long absent, or to be turn'd away: is not that as good as a hanging to you?
CLOWN
Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage: and for turning
away, let summer bear it out.
maria
You are resolute then?
CLOWN
Not so neither, but I am resolu'd on two points.
maria
That if one breaks, the other will hold; or if both breaks,
your gaskins will fall.
CLOWN
Apt, in good faith, very apt: well go thy way. If sir Toby
would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a piece of Eve's flesh, as any in
Illyria.
maria
Peace, you rogue, no more o'that: here comes my Lady: make
your excuse wisely, you were best.
Maria leaves hurriedly. Enter Lady Olivia, with Malvolio from
balcony (upstairs).
CLOWN
(aside)
Wit, and't be thy will, put me into good fooling; those wits
that think they have thee, do very oft prove fools: and I that am sure I lack
thee, may pass for a wise man. For what says Quinapalus, "Better a witty fool
than a foolish wit."
Feste climbs stairs, and bows fancifully to Olivia.
God bless thee Lady.
olivia
Take the fool away.
CLOWN
Do you not hear fellows, take away the Lady.
OLIVIA
Go to, y'are a dry fool: I'll no more of you: besides you
grow dishonest.
CLOWN
Two faults Madonna, that drink and good counsel will amend:
for give the dry fool drink, then is the fool not dry: bid the dishonest man
mend himself, if he mend, he is no longer dishonest; if he cannot, let the
Butcher mend him: anything that's mended, is but patch'd: virtue that
transgresses, is but patcht with sin, and sin that amends, is but patcht with
virtue. If that this simple Syllogism will serve, so: if it will not, what
remedy? As there is no true Cuckold but calamity, so beauty's a flower; The
Lady bade take away the foole, therefore I say againe, take her away.
OLIVIA
Sir, I bade them take away you.
CLOWN
Misprision in the highest degree. Lady, Cucullus non facit
monachum: that's as much to say, as I were not motley in my brain: good
Madonna, give me leave to prove you a fool.
OLIVIA
Can you do it?
clown
Dexterously, good Madonna.
OLIVIA
Make your proof.
clown
I must catechize you for it Madonna, Good my Mouse of virtue
answer me.
(takes out mouse of virtue.)
olivia
(Ignoring the mouse.)
Well, sir, for want of other idleness, I'll bide your proof.
clown
Good Madonna, why mournst thou?
Olivia
Good fool, for my brother's death
clown
I think his soul is in hell, Madonna.
olivia
I know his soul is in heaven, fool.
clown
The more fool - Madonna - to mourn for your Brother's soul,
being in heaven. Take away the Fool, Gentlemen.
Olivia
What think you of this fool Malvolio, does he not mend?
malvolio
Yes, and shall do, till the pangs of death shake him:
Infirmity that decays the wise, doth ever make the better fool.
Clown
God send you sir, a speedy Infirmity, for the better
increasing your folly: Sir Toby will be sworn that I am no Fox, but he will
not pass his word for two pence that you are no Fool.
olivia
How say you to that Malvolio?
malvolio
I marvel your Ladyship takes delight in such a barren rascal:
I saw him put down the other day, with an ordinary fool, that has no more brain
than a stone. Look you now, he's out of his guard already; unless you laugh and
minister occasion to him, he is gag'd. I protest I take these Wisemen, that
crow so at these set kind of fools, no better than the fools' Zanies.
Olivia
Oh you are sick of self-love Malvolio, and taste with a
distemper'd appetite. To be generous, guiltless, and of free disposition, is
to take these things for Bird-bolts that you deem Cannon bullets: there is no
slander in an allow'd fool, though he do nothing but rayle; nor no railing, in
a known discreet man, though he do nothing but reprove.
clown
Now Mercury endue thee with leasing, for thou speak'st well
of fools.
Enter Maria from upstairs.
maria
Madam, there is at the gate a young Gentleman, much desires
to speak with you.
olivia
From the Count Orsino, is it?
maria
I know not, Madam, 'tis a fair young man, and well attended.
olivia
Who of my people hold him in delay?
maria
Sir Toby, Madame, your kinsman.
olivia
Fetch him off I pray you; he speaks nothing but madman: fie
on him. Go you, Malvolio, if it be a suit from the Count, I am sick, or not at
home. What you will, to dismiss it.
Exit Malvolio with Maria (upstairs).
Olivia
Now you see sir how your fooling grows old, and people
dislike it.
clown
Thou hast spoke for us, Madonna, as if thy eldest son should
be a fool: whose skull Jove cram with brains, for - here he comes!
Enter Toby from downstairs.
clown
One of thy kin has a most weak Pia-mater.
olivia
By mine honor half drunk. {[ What is he at the gate Cousin?
toby
A Gentleman.
olivia
A Gentleman? What Gentleman?
toby
'Tis a Gentleman here. A plague o'these pickle herring: how
now, sot?
clown
Good Sir Toby.
olIvia
Cousin, cousin, how have you come so early by this lethargy?
toby
Letcherie, I defy Letchery: there's one at the gate.
olivia
Ay, marry, what is he?
toby
Let him be the devil and he will, I care not: give me faith
say I. Well, it's all one. ]}
olivia
What's a drunken man like, fool?
clown
Like a drown'd man, a fool, and a mad man: one draught about
heat, makes him a fool, the second maddens him, and a third drowns him.
olivia
Go thou and seek the coroner, and let him sit o'my coz: for
he's in the third degree of drink: he's drown'd: go look after him.
CLOWN
He is but mad yet Madonna, and the fool shall look to the
madman.
Exit Clown downstairs with Toby. Enter Malvolio upstairs.
MALVOLIO
Madam, yond young fellow swears he will speak with you. I
told him you were sick, he takes on him to understand so much, and therefore
comes to speak with you. I told him you were asleep, he seems to have a fore
knowledge of that too, and therefore comes to speak with you. What is to be
said to him, Lady, he's fortified against any denial.
OLIVIA
Tell him, he shall not speak with me.
MALVOLIO
He's been told so: and he says he'll stand at your door like
a Sheriff's post, and be the supporter to a bench, but he'll speak with you.
OLIVIA
What kind of man is he?
MALVOLIO
Why of man kind.
OLIVIA
What manner of man?
MALVOLIO
Of very ill manner: he'll speak with you, will you, or no.
OLIVIA
Of what personage and years is he?
MALVOLIO
Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough for a boy: as
a squash before 'tis a peascod, or a Codling when 'tis almost an Apple: 'Tis
with him in standing water, between boy and man. He is very well-favour'd and
he speaks very shrewishly: One would think his mother's milk were scarce out of
him.
OLIVIA
Let him approach: Call in my Gentlewoman
MALVOLIO
Gentlewoman, my Lady calls.
Exit Malvolio upstairs after calling out to Maria. Enter
Maria downstairs.
OLIVIA
Give me my veil: come throw it o'er my face,
(she dons veil)
we'll once more
hear Orsino's embassy.
Enter Viola, clearly from downstairs.
VIOLA
The honorable Lady of the house, which is she?
OLIVIA
Speak to me, I shall answer for her: your will?
(Maria: feel free to openly portray your opinion of this
young boy from the Duke - snicker condescendingly.)
VIOLA
Most radiant, exquisite, and unmatchable beauty, I pray you
tell me if this be the Lady of the house, for I never saw her. I would be loath
to cast away my speech, for besides that it is excellently well penned, I
have taken great pains to con it. Good beauties, let me sustain no scorn; I am
very comptible, even to the least sinister usage.
OLIVIA
Where came you, sir?
VIOLA
I can say little more than I have studied, and that
question's out of my part. Good gentle one, give me modest assurance, if you be
the Lady of the house, that I may proceed in my speech.
OLIVIA
Are you a comedian?
VIOLA
No, my profound heart: and yet (by the very fangs of malice,
I swear) I am not that I play. Are you the Lady of the house?
OLIVIA
If I do not usurp myself, I am.
VIOLA
Most certain, if you are she, you do usurp yourself: for what
is yours to bestow, is, not yours to reserve. But this is from my Commission: I
will on with my speech in your praise, and then shrew you the heart of my
message.
OLIVIA
Come to what is important in't: I forgive you the praise.
VIOLA
Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis Poetical.
OLIVIA
It is the most like to be feigned, I pray you keep it in. I
heard you were saucy at my gates, and allow'd your approach rather to wonder at
you, than to hear you. If you be not mad, be gone:
Maria starts descending stairs to hoist Cesario away. (No
pause from Olivia.)
If you have reason to be
brief: 'tis not that time of Moon with me, to make one in so skipping a
dialogue.
MAria
(she arrives by door to push Cesario out)
Will you hoist sail sir, here lies your way.
[Maria, who started descending the stairs at "be gone",
pushes
Viola towards the door at "Here lies your way."]
VIOLA
No, good swabber, I am to hull here a little longer. Some
mollification for your Giant, sweet Lady.
olivia
Tell me your mind.
viola
I am a messenger.
OLIVIA
Sure you have some hideous matter to deliver, when the
courtesy of it is so fearful. Speak your office.
VIOLA
It alone concerns your ear: I bring no overture of war, no
taxation of homage; I hold the Olive in my hand: my words are as full of peace,
as matter.
OLIVIA
Yet you began rudely. What are you? What would you?
VIOLA
The rudeness that hath appeared in me have I learned from my
entertainment. What I am, and what I would, are as secret as maidenhead; to
your ears, divinity, to any other's, profanation.
OLiVIA
Give us the place alone: we will hear this divinity.
Exeunt all but Olivia and Viola
OLIVIA
Now, sir, what is your text?
VIOLA
Most sweet lady,--
OLIVIA
A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said of it. Where
lies your text?
VIOLA
In Orsino's bosom.
OLIVIA
In his bosom! In what chapter of his bosom?
VIOLA
To answer by the method, in the first of his heart.
OliVIA
O, I have read it: it is heresy. Have you no more to say?
VIOLA
Good Madam, let me see your face.
OLIVIA
Have you any Commission from your Lord, to negotiate with my
face: you are now out of your Text: but we will draw the Curtain, and show you
the picture.
Olivia lifts her veil. (Case I: Olivia descends stairs to
Viola's level, and pace at will; Case II: Viola ascends to balcony.)
Look you sir, such a one I was this present: Is't not well
done?
viola
Excellently done, if God did all.
OliVIA
'Tis in graine sir, 'twill endure winde and weather.
VIOLA
Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white, natures own
sweet, and cunning hand laid on: Lady, you are the cruel'st she alive, if you
will lead these graces to the grave, and leave the world no copy.
OLIVIA
O sir, I will not be so hard-hearted: I will give out divers
schedules of my beauty. It shall be Inventoried and every particle and utensil
label'd to my will: As item two lips indifferent red, Item two grey eyes, with
lids to them; Item: one neck, one chin, and so forth. Were you sent hither to
praise me?
VIOLA
I see what you are; you are too proud: but if you were the
devil, you are fair. My Lord, and master loves you: O such love could not be
recompenc'd, though you were crown'd the nonpareil of beauty.
OLiVIA
How does he love me?
VIOLA
With adorations, fertile tears, with groans that thunder
love, with sighs of fire.
OLIVIA
Your Lord does know my mind, I cannot love him. Yet, I
suppose
him virtuous, know him noble, of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth; in
voices well divulg'd, free, and valiant, and in dimension, and the shape of
nature, a gracious person; but yet I cannot love him: he might have took his
answer long ago.
(Case I: Olivia ascends stairs, Viola follows.)
VIOLA
If I did love you in my master's flame, with such a
suff'ring, such a deadly life: in your denial, I would find no sense, I would
not understand it.
OLIVIA
Why, what would you?
VIOLA
Make me a willow cabin at your gate, and call upon my soul
within the house, write loyal cantons of condemnèd love, and sing them
loud
even in the dead of night: hallow your name to the reverberate hills, and make
the babbling gossip of the air, cry out Olivia: O you should not rest between
the element of air, and earth, but you should pity me.
OLIVIA
You might do much: what is your parentage?
VIOLA
Above my fortunes, yet my state is well: I am a Gentleman.
OLIVIA
Get you to your Lord: I cannot love him: let him send no
more, unless perchance you come to me again, to tell me how he takes it: fare
you well: I thank you for your pains: spend this for me. (Gives Viola Coin)
VIOLA
I am no feed post, Lady; keep your purse, my master not my
self, lacks recompence. Love make his heart of flint, that you shall love, and
let your fervour, like my master's, be, plac'd in contempt: farewell fair
cruelty.
Exit Viola, descending down the stairs.
OLiVIA
"What is your Parentage?" "Above my fortunes, yet my state is
well; I am a Gentleman." I'll be sworn thou art, thy tongue, thy face, thy
limbs, actions, and spirit, do give thee five-fold blazon: not too fast: soft,
soft, unless the Master were the man. How now? Even so quickly may one catch
the plague? Methinks I feel this youth's perfections with an invisible, and
subtle stealth to creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be. What ho, Malvolio.
Enter Malvolio
MALVOLIO
Here, Madam, at your service.
OLIVIA
Run after that same peevish Messenger the County's man: he
left this ring (gives coin) behind him would I, or not: tell him, I'll none of
it. Desire
him not to flatter with his Lord, nor hold him up with hopes, I am not for him.
If that the youth will come this way tomorrow, I'll give him reasons for't: hie
thee Malvolio.
MALVOLIO
Madam, I will.
Malvolio exits swiftly from balcony. Olivia descends stairs
to main stage level:
OLIVIA
I know not what, and fear to find mine eye too great a
flatterer for my mind: fate, show thy force, our selves we do not owe, what is
decreed, must be: and be this so.
Exit Olivia.
END Of act 1