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WHAT YOU WILL.
SCENE I.-An Apartment in the Duke's Palace.
Enter Duke, CURIO, Lords ; Musicians attending.
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
Stealing, and giving odour. Enough ; no more ;
Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord ?
What, Curio ?
The hart. Duke. 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 ?
Duke. O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame
Away before me to sweet beds of flowers :
Enter VIOLA, Captain, and Sailors.
This is Illyria, lady.
Cap. It is perchance that you yourself were savd.
Cap. True, madam; and to comfort you with chance,
For saying so, there's gold :
Cap. Ay, madam, well ; for I was bred and born
Vio. Who governs here ?
Vio. Orsino! I have heard my father name him :
Cap. And so is now, or was so very late;
For but a month ago I went from hence ;
Vio. What's she?
Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count
O, that I sery'd that lady,
That were hard to compass;
Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, captain ;
Cap. Be you his 'singer,' 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.
Mar. Ay, but you must confine yourself within 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 Aguecheek ?
Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats; he's a very fool and a prodigal.
Sir To. Fie, that you 'll say so! he plays o' the viol-degamboys, 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 to allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among the prudent he would quickly have the gift of a grave.
Sir To. By this hand, they are scoundrels and subtractors that say so of him. Who are they?
Mar. They that add, moreover, he's drunk nightly in your company.