Speeches (Lines) for Viola
in "Twelfth Night"

Total: 121

---
# Act, Scene, Line
(Click to see in context)
Speech text

1

I,2,48

(stage directions). [Enter VIOLA, a Captain, and Sailors]

Viola. What country, friends, is this?


2

I,2,50

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, sailors?


3

I,2,54

Captain. It is perchance that you yourself were saved.

Viola. O my poor brother! and so perchance may he be.


4

I,2,65

Captain. True, madam: and, to comfort you with chance,
Assure yourself, after our ship did split,
When you and those poor number saved with you
Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother,
Most provident in peril, bind himself,
Courage and hope both teaching him the practise,
To a strong mast that lived 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:
Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,
Whereto thy speech serves for authority,
The like of him. Know'st thou this country?


5

I,2,71

Captain. Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and born
Not three hours' travel from this very place.

Viola. Who governs here?


6

I,2,73

Captain. A noble duke, in nature as in name.

Viola. What is the name?


7

I,2,75

Captain. Orsino.

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


8

I,2,82

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?


9

I,2,89

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 abjured the company
And sight of men.

Viola. O that I served that lady
And might not be delivered to the world,
Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,
What my estate is!


10

I,2,96

Captain. That were hard to compass;
Because she will admit no kind of suit,
No, not the duke's.

Viola. There is a 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.
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 this duke:
Thou shall 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.


11

I,2,113

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.


12

I,4,250

Valentine. If the duke continue these favours towards you,
Cesario, you are like to be much advanced: 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?


13

I,4,254

Valentine. No, believe me.

Viola. I thank you. Here comes the count.


14

I,4,257

Orsino. Who saw Cesario, ho?

Viola. On your attendance, my lord; here.


15

I,4,265

Orsino. Stand you a while aloof, Cesario,
Thou know'st no less but all; I have unclasp'd
To thee the book even of my secret soul:
Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her;
Be not denied 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.


16

I,4,270

Orsino. Be clamorous and leap all civil bounds
Rather than make unprofited return.

Viola. Say I do speak with her, my lord, what then?


17

I,4,276

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 nuncio's of more grave aspect.

Viola. I think not so, my lord.


18

I,4,289

Orsino. 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 maiden's organ, shrill and sound,
And all is semblative a woman's part.
I know thy constellation is right apt
For this affair. Some four or five attend him;
All, if you will; for I myself am best
When least in company. Prosper well in this,
And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord,
To call his fortunes thine.

Viola. I'll do my best
To woo your lady:
[Aside]
yet, a barful strife!
Whoe'er I woo, myself would be his wife.


19

I,5,461

(stage directions). [Enter VIOLA, and Attendants]

Viola. The honourable lady of the house, which is she?


20

I,5,464

Olivia. Speak to me; I shall answer for her.
Your will?

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.


21

I,5,472

Olivia. Whence 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.


22

I,5,477

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?


23

I,5,481

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 show you
the heart of my message.


24

I,5,487

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.


25

I,5,495

Maria. Will you hoist sail, sir? here lies your way.

Viola. No, good swabber; I am to hull here a little
longer. Some mollification for your giant, sweet
lady. Tell me your mind: I am a messenger.


26

I,5,500

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 fun of peace as matter.


27

I,5,504

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.


28

I,5,511

Olivia. Give us the place alone: we will hear this divinity.
[Exeunt MARIA and Attendants]
Now, sir, what is your text?

Viola. Most sweet lady,—


29

I,5,514

Olivia. A comfortable doctrine, and much may be said of it.
Where lies your text?

Viola. In Orsino's bosom.


30

I,5,516

Olivia. In his bosom! In what chapter of his bosom?

Viola. To answer by the method, in the first of his heart.


31

I,5,518

Olivia. O, I have read it: it is heresy. Have you no more to say?

Viola. Good madam, let me see your face.


32

I,5,525

(stage directions). [Unveiling]

Viola. Excellently done, if God did all.


33

I,5,527

Olivia. 'Tis in grain, sir; 'twill endure wind and weather.

Viola. 'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white
Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on:
Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive,
If you will lead these graces to the grave
And leave the world no copy.


34

I,5,539

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
labelled 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 you 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 be but recompensed, though you were crown'd
The nonpareil of beauty!


35

I,5,545

Olivia. How does he love me?

Viola. With adorations, fertile tears,
With groans that thunder love, with sighs of fire.


36

I,5,554

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 divulged, free, learn'd 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.

Viola. If I did love you in my master's flame,
With such a suffering, such a deadly life,
In your denial I would find no sense;
I would not understand it.


37

I,5,559

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 contemned love
And sing them loud even in the dead of night;
Halloo your name to the reverberate hills
And make the babbling gossip of the air
Cry out 'Olivia!' O, You should not rest
Between the elements of air and earth,
But you should pity me!


38

I,5,570

Olivia. You might do much.
What is your parentage?

Viola. Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:
I am a gentleman.


39

I,5,577

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.

Viola. I am no fee'd post, lady; keep your purse:
My master, not myself, lacks recompense.
Love make his heart of flint that you shall love;
And let your fervor, like my master's, be
Placed in contempt! Farewell, fair cruelty.


40

II,2,659

Malvolio. Were not you even now with the Countess Olivia?

Viola. Even now, sir; on a moderate pace I have since
arrived but hither.


41

II,2,668

Malvolio. She returns this ring to you, sir: you might have
saved me my pains, to have taken it away yourself.
She adds, moreover, that you should put your lord
into a desperate assurance she will none of him:
and one thing more, that you be never so hardy to
come again in his affairs, unless it be to report
your lord's taking of this. Receive it so.

Viola. She took the ring of me: I'll none of it.


42

II,2,674

(stage directions). [Exit]

Viola. I left no ring with her: what means this lady?
Fortune forbid my outside have not charm'd her!
She made good view of me; indeed, so much,
That sure methought her eyes had lost her tongue,
For she did speak in starts distractedly.
She loves me, sure; the cunning of her passion
Invites me in this churlish messenger.
None of my lord's ring! why, he sent her none.
I am the man: if it be so, as 'tis,
Poor lady, she were better love a dream.
Disguise, I see, thou art a wickedness,
Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.
How easy is it for the proper-false
In women's waxen hearts to set their forms!
Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we!
For such as we are made of, such we be.
How will this fadge? my master loves her dearly;
And I, poor monster, fond as much on him;
And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me.
What will become of this? As I am man,
My state is desperate for my master's love;
As I am woman,—now alas the day!—
What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe!
O time! thou must untangle this, not I;
It is too hard a knot for me to untie!


43

II,4,910

Orsino. Seek him out, and play the tune the while.
[Exit CURIO. Music plays]
Come hither, boy: if ever thou shalt love,
In the sweet pangs of it remember me;
For such as I am all true lovers are,
Unstaid and skittish in all motions else,
Save in the constant image of the creature
That is beloved. How dost thou like this tune?

Viola. It gives a very echo to the seat
Where Love is throned.


44

II,4,916

Orsino. Thou dost speak masterly:
My life upon't, young though thou art, thine eye
Hath stay'd upon some favour that it loves:
Hath it not, boy?

Viola. A little, by your favour.


45

II,4,918

Orsino. What kind of woman is't?

Viola. Of your complexion.


46

II,4,920

Orsino. She is not worth thee, then. What years, i' faith?

Viola. About your years, my lord.


47

II,4,928

Orsino. Too old by heaven: let still the woman take
An elder than herself: so wears she to him,
So sways she level in her husband's heart:
For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,
Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,
More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn,
Than women's are.

Viola. I think it well, my lord.


48

II,4,933

Orsino. Then let thy love be younger than thyself,
Or thy affection cannot hold the bent;
For women are as roses, whose fair flower
Being once display'd, doth fall that very hour.

Viola. And so they are: alas, that they are so;
To die, even when they to perfection grow!


49

II,4,985

Orsino. Let all the rest give place.
[CURIO and Attendants retire]
Once more, Cesario,
Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty:
Tell her, my love, more noble than the world,
Prizes not quantity of dirty lands;
The parts that fortune hath bestow'd upon her,
Tell her, I hold as giddily as fortune;
But 'tis that miracle and queen of gems
That nature pranks her in attracts my soul.

Viola. But if she cannot love you, sir?


50

II,4,987

Orsino. I cannot be so answer'd.

Viola. Sooth, but you must.
Say that some lady, as perhaps there is,
Hath for your love a great a pang of heart
As you have for Olivia: you cannot love her;
You tell her so; must she not then be answer'd?


51

II,4,1003

Orsino. There is no woman's sides
Can bide the beating of so strong a passion
As love doth give my heart; no woman's heart
So big, to hold so much; they lack retention
Alas, their love may be call'd appetite,
No motion of the liver, but the palate,
That suffer surfeit, cloyment and revolt;
But mine is all as hungry as the sea,
And can digest as much: make no compare
Between that love a woman can bear me
And that I owe Olivia.

Viola. Ay, but I know—


52

II,4,1005

Orsino. What dost thou know?

Viola. Too well what love women to men may owe:
In faith, they are as true of heart as we.
My father had a daughter loved a man,
As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman,
I should your lordship.


53

II,4,1011

Orsino. And what's her history?

Viola. A blank, my lord. She never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,
Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought,
And with a green and yellow melancholy
She sat like patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?
We men may say more, swear more: but indeed
Our shows are more than will; for still we prove
Much in our vows, but little in our love.


54

II,4,1021

Orsino. But died thy sister of her love, my boy?

Viola. I am all the daughters of my father's house,
And all the brothers too: and yet I know not.
Sir, shall I to this lady?


55

III,1,1236

(stage directions). [Enter VIOLA, and Clown with a tabour]

Viola. Save thee, friend, and thy music: dost thou live by
thy tabour?


56

III,1,1239

Feste. No, sir, I live by the church.

Viola. Art thou a churchman?


57

III,1,1243

Feste. No such matter, sir: I do live by the church; for
I do live at my house, and my house doth stand by
the church.

Viola. So thou mayst say, the king lies by a beggar, if a
beggar dwell near him; or, the church stands by thy
tabour, if thy tabour stand by the church.


58

III,1,1249

Feste. You have said, sir. To see this age! A sentence is
but a cheveril glove to a good wit: how quickly the
wrong side may be turned outward!

Viola. Nay, that's certain; they that dally nicely with
words may quickly make them wanton.


59

III,1,1252

Feste. I would, therefore, my sister had had no name, sir.

Viola. Why, man?


60

III,1,1256

Feste. Why, sir, her name's a word; and to dally with that
word might make my sister wanton. But indeed words
are very rascals since bonds disgraced them.

Viola. Thy reason, man?


61

III,1,1260

Feste. Troth, sir, I can yield you none without words; and
words are grown so false, I am loath to prove
reason with them.

Viola. I warrant thou art a merry fellow and carest for nothing.


62

III,1,1264

Feste. Not so, sir, I do care for something; but in my
conscience, sir, I do not care for you: if that be
to care for nothing, sir, I would it would make you invisible.

Viola. Art not thou the Lady Olivia's fool?


63

III,1,1270

Feste. No, indeed, sir; the Lady Olivia has no folly: she
will keep no fool, sir, till she be married; and
fools are as like husbands as pilchards are to
herrings; the husband's the bigger: I am indeed not
her fool, but her corrupter of words.

Viola. I saw thee late at the Count Orsino's.


64

III,1,1275

Feste. Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun,
it shines every where. I would be sorry, sir, but
the fool should be as oft with your master as with
my mistress: I think I saw your wisdom there.

Viola. Nay, an thou pass upon me, I'll no more with thee.
Hold, there's expenses for thee.


65

III,1,1278

Feste. Now Jove, in his next commodity of hair, send thee a beard!

Viola. By my troth, I'll tell thee, I am almost sick for
one;
[Aside]
though I would not have it grow on my chin. Is thy
lady within?


66

III,1,1284

Feste. Would not a pair of these have bred, sir?

Viola. Yes, being kept together and put to use.


67

III,1,1287

Feste. I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia, sir, to bring
a Cressida to this Troilus.

Viola. I understand you, sir; 'tis well begged.


68

III,1,1294

(stage directions). [Exit]

Viola. This fellow is wise enough to play the fool;
And to do that well craves a kind of wit:
He must observe their mood on whom he jests,
The quality of persons, and the time,
And, like the haggard, cheque at every feather
That comes before his eye. This is a practise
As full of labour as a wise man's art
For folly that he wisely shows is fit;
But wise men, folly-fall'n, quite taint their wit.


69

III,1,1305

Sir Toby Belch. Save you, gentleman.

Viola. And you, sir.


70

III,1,1307

Sir Andrew Aguecheek. Dieu vous garde, monsieur.

Viola. Et vous aussi; votre serviteur.


71

III,1,1311

Sir Toby Belch. Will you encounter the house? my niece is desirous
you should enter, if your trade be to her.

Viola. I am bound to your niece, sir; I mean, she is the
list of my voyage.


72

III,1,1314

Sir Toby Belch. Taste your legs, sir; put them to motion.

Viola. My legs do better understand me, sir, than I
understand what you mean by bidding me taste my legs.


73

III,1,1317

Sir Toby Belch. I mean, to go, sir, to enter.

Viola. I will answer you with gait and entrance. But we
are prevented.
[Enter OLIVIA and MARIA]
Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain
odours on you!


74

III,1,1323

Sir Andrew Aguecheek. That youth's a rare courtier: 'Rain odours;' well.

Viola. My matter hath no voice, to your own most pregnant
and vouchsafed ear.


75

III,1,1330

Olivia. Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing.
[Exeunt SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and MARIA]
Give me your hand, sir.

Viola. My duty, madam, and most humble service.


76

III,1,1332

Olivia. What is your name?

Viola. Cesario is your servant's name, fair princess.


77

III,1,1336

Olivia. My servant, sir! 'Twas never merry world
Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment:
You're servant to the Count Orsino, youth.

Viola. And he is yours, and his must needs be yours:
Your servant's servant is your servant, madam.


78

III,1,1340

Olivia. For him, I think not on him: for his thoughts,
Would they were blanks, rather than fill'd with me!

Viola. Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts
On his behalf.


79

III,1,1347

Olivia. O, by your leave, I pray you,
I bade you never speak again of him:
But, would you undertake another suit,
I had rather hear you to solicit that
Than music from the spheres.

Viola. Dear lady,—


80

III,1,1359

Olivia. Give me leave, beseech you. I did send,
After the last enchantment you did here,
A ring in chase of you: so did I abuse
Myself, my servant and, I fear me, you:
Under your hard construction must I sit,To force that on you, in a shameful cunning,
Which you knew none of yours: what might you think?
Have you not set mine honour at the stake
And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts
That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiving
Enough is shown: a cypress, not a bosom,
Hideth my heart. So, let me hear you speak.

Viola. I pity you.


81

III,1,1361

Olivia. That's a degree to love.

Viola. No, not a grize; for 'tis a vulgar proof,
That very oft we pity enemies.


82

III,1,1373

Olivia. Why, then, methinks 'tis time to smile again.
O, world, how apt the poor are to be proud!
If one should be a prey, how much the better
To fall before the lion than the wolf!
[Clock strikes]
The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.
Be not afraid, good youth, I will not have you:
And yet, when wit and youth is come to harvest,
Your were is alike to reap a proper man:
There lies your way, due west.

Viola. Then westward-ho! Grace and good disposition
Attend your ladyship!
You'll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?


83

III,1,1378

Olivia. Stay:
I prithee, tell me what thou thinkest of me.

Viola. That you do think you are not what you are.


84

III,1,1380

Olivia. If I think so, I think the same of you.

Viola. Then think you right: I am not what I am.


85

III,1,1382

Olivia. I would you were as I would have you be!

Viola. Would it be better, madam, than I am?
I wish it might, for now I am your fool.


86

III,1,1396

Olivia. O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
In the contempt and anger of his lip!
A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon
Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon.
Cesario, by the roses of the spring,
By maidhood, honour, truth and every thing,
I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride,
Nor wit nor reason can my passion hide.
Do not extort thy reasons from this clause,
For that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause,
But rather reason thus with reason fetter,
Love sought is good, but given unsought better.

Viola. By innocence I swear, and by my youth
I have one heart, one bosom and one truth,
And that no woman has; nor never none
Shall mistress be of it, save I alone.
And so adieu, good madam: never more
Will I my master's tears to you deplore.


87

III,4,1748

Olivia. I have said too much unto a heart of stone
And laid mine honour too unchary out:
There's something in me that reproves my fault;
But such a headstrong potent fault it is,
That it but mocks reproof.

Viola. With the same 'havior that your passion bears
Goes on my master's grief.


88

III,4,1755

Olivia. Here, wear this jewel for me, 'tis my picture;
Refuse it not; it hath no tongue to vex you;
And I beseech you come again to-morrow.
What shall you ask of me that I'll deny,
That honour saved may upon asking give?

Viola. Nothing but this; your true love for my master.


89

III,4,1758

Olivia. How with mine honour may I give him that
Which I have given to you?

Viola. I will acquit you.


90

III,4,1764

Sir Toby Belch. Gentleman, God save thee.

Viola. And you, sir.


91

III,4,1771

Sir Toby Belch. That defence thou hast, betake thee to't: of what
nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know
not; but thy intercepter, full of despite, bloody as
the hunter, attends thee at the orchard-end:
dismount thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation, for
thy assailant is quick, skilful and deadly.

Viola. You mistake, sir; I am sure no man hath any quarrel
to me: my remembrance is very free and clear from
any image of offence done to any man.


92

III,4,1778

Sir Toby Belch. You'll find it otherwise, I assure you: therefore,
if you hold your life at any price, betake you to
your guard; for your opposite hath in him what
youth, strength, skill and wrath can furnish man withal.

Viola. I pray you, sir, what is he?


93

III,4,1785

Sir Toby Belch. He is knight, dubbed with unhatched rapier and on
carpet consideration; but he is a devil in private
brawl: souls and bodies hath he divorced three; and
his incensement at this moment is so implacable,
that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death
and sepulchre. Hob, nob, is his word; give't or take't.

Viola. I will return again into the house and desire some
conduct of the lady. I am no fighter. I have heard
of some kind of men that put quarrels purposely on
others, to taste their valour: belike this is a man
of that quirk.


94

III,4,1797

Sir Toby Belch. Sir, no; his indignation derives itself out of a
very competent injury: therefore, get you on and
give him his desire. Back you shall not to the
house, unless you undertake that with me which with
as much safety you might answer him: therefore, on,
or strip your sword stark naked; for meddle you
must, that's certain, or forswear to wear iron about you.

Viola. This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you, do me
this courteous office, as to know of the knight what
my offence to him is: it is something of my
negligence, nothing of my purpose.


95

III,4,1804

(stage directions). [Exit]

Viola. Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter?


96

III,4,1807

Fabian. I know the knight is incensed against you, even to a
mortal arbitrement; but nothing of the circumstance more.

Viola. I beseech you, what manner of man is he?


97

III,4,1815

Fabian. Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read him by
his form, as you are like to find him in the proof
of his valour. He is, indeed, sir, the most skilful,
bloody and fatal opposite that you could possibly
have found in any part of Illyria. Will you walk
towards him? I will make your peace with him if I
can.

Viola. I shall be much bound to you for't: I am one that
had rather go with sir priest than sir knight: I
care not who knows so much of my mettle.


98

III,4,1848

Sir Toby Belch. [To VIOLA] There's no remedy, sir; he will fight
with you for's oath sake: marry, he hath better
bethought him of his quarrel, and he finds that now
scarce to be worth talking of: therefore draw, for
the supportance of his vow; he protests he will not hurt you.

Viola. [Aside] Pray God defend me! A little thing would
make me tell them how much I lack of a man.


99

III,4,1857

Sir Andrew Aguecheek. Pray God, he keep his oath!

Viola. I do assure you, 'tis against my will.


100

III,4,1871

Sir Toby Belch. I'll be with you anon.

Viola. Pray, sir, put your sword up, if you please.


101

III,4,1892

Antonio. I must entreat of you some of that money.

Viola. What money, sir?
For the fair kindness you have show'd me here,
And, part, being prompted by your present trouble,
Out of my lean and low ability
I'll lend you something: my having is not much;
I'll make division of my present with you:
Hold, there's half my coffer.


102

III,4,1905

Antonio. Will you deny me now?
Is't possible that my deserts to you
Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery,
Lest that it make me so unsound a man
As to upbraid you with those kindnesses
That I have done for you.

Viola. I know of none;
Nor know I you by voice or any feature:
I hate ingratitude more in a man
Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness,
Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption
Inhabits our frail blood.


103

III,4,1928

(stage directions). [Exit with Officers]

Viola. Methinks his words do from such passion fly,
That he believes himself: so do not I.
Prove true, imagination, O, prove true,
That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you!


104

III,4,1934

Sir Toby Belch. Come hither, knight; come hither, Fabian: we'll
whisper o'er a couplet or two of most sage saws.

Viola. He named Sebastian: I my brother know
Yet living in my glass; even such and so
In favour was my brother, and he went
Still in this fashion, colour, ornament,
For him I imitate: O, if it prove,
Tempests are kind and salt waves fresh in love.


105

V,1,2237

(stage directions). [Exit]

Viola. Here comes the man, sir, that did rescue me.


106

V,1,2254

First Officer. Orsino, this is that Antonio
That took the Phoenix and her fraught from Candy;
And this is he that did the Tiger board,
When your young nephew Titus lost his leg:
Here in the streets, desperate of shame and state,
In private brabble did we apprehend him.

Viola. He did me kindness, sir, drew on my side;
But in conclusion put strange speech upon me:
I know not what 'twas but distraction.


107

V,1,2282

Antonio. Orsino, noble sir,
Be pleased that I shake off these names you give me:
Antonio never yet was thief or pirate,
Though I confess, on base and ground enough,
Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither:
That most ingrateful boy there by your side,
From the rude sea's enraged and foamy mouth
Did I redeem; a wreck past hope he was:
His life I gave him and did thereto add
My love, without retention or restraint,
All his in dedication; for his sake
Did I expose myself, pure for his love,
Into the danger of this adverse town;
Drew to defend him when he was beset:
Where being apprehended, his false cunning,
Not meaning to partake with me in danger,
Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,
And grew a twenty years removed thing
While one would wink; denied me mine own purse,
Which I had recommended to his use
Not half an hour before.

Viola. How can this be?


108

V,1,2295

Olivia. What would my lord, but that he may not have,
Wherein Olivia may seem serviceable?
Cesario, you do not keep promise with me.

Viola. Madam!


109

V,1,2298

Olivia. What do you say, Cesario? Good my lord,—

Viola. My lord would speak; my duty hushes me.


110

V,1,2324

Orsino. Why should I not, had I the heart to do it,
Like to the Egyptian thief at point of death,
Kill what I love?—a savage jealousy
That sometimes savours nobly. But hear me this:
Since you to non-regardance cast my faith,
And that I partly know the instrument
That screws me from my true place in your favour,
Live you the marble-breasted tyrant still;
But this your minion, whom I know you love,
And whom, by heaven I swear, I tender dearly,
Him will I tear out of that cruel eye,
Where he sits crowned in his master's spite.
Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mischief:
I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love,
To spite a raven's heart within a dove.

Viola. And I, most jocund, apt and willingly,
To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.


111

V,1,2327

Olivia. Where goes Cesario?

Viola. After him I love
More than I love these eyes, more than my life,
More, by all mores, than e'er I shall love wife.
If I do feign, you witnesses above
Punish my life for tainting of my love!


112

V,1,2333

Olivia. Ay me, detested! how am I beguiled!

Viola. Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong?


113

V,1,2341

Orsino. Her husband, sirrah!

Viola. No, my lord, not I.


114

V,1,2368

Orsino. O thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be
When time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy case?
Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow,
That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow?
Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feet
Where thou and I henceforth may never meet.

Viola. My lord, I do protest—


115

V,1,2385

Sir Andrew Aguecheek. 'Od's lifelings, here he is! You broke my head for
nothing; and that that I did, I was set on to do't
by Sir Toby.

Viola. Why do you speak to me? I never hurt you:
You drew your sword upon me without cause;
But I bespoke you fair, and hurt you not.


116

V,1,2432

Sebastian. Do I stand there? I never had a brother;
Nor can there be that deity in my nature,
Of here and every where. I had a sister,
Whom the blind waves and surges have devour'd.
Of charity, what kin are you to me?
What countryman? what name? what parentage?

Viola. Of Messaline: Sebastian was my father;
Such a Sebastian was my brother too,
So went he suited to his watery tomb:
If spirits can assume both form and suit
You come to fright us.


117

V,1,2443

Sebastian. A spirit I am indeed;
But am in that dimension grossly clad
Which from the womb I did participate.
Were you a woman, as the rest goes even,
I should my tears let fall upon your cheek,
And say 'Thrice-welcome, drowned Viola!'

Viola. My father had a mole upon his brow.


118

V,1,2445

Sebastian. And so had mine.

Viola. And died that day when Viola from her birth
Had number'd thirteen years.


119

V,1,2450

Sebastian. O, that record is lively in my soul!
He finished indeed his mortal act
That day that made my sister thirteen years.

Viola. If nothing lets to make us happy both
But this my masculine usurp'd attire,
Do not embrace me till each circumstance
Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and jump
That I am Viola: which to confirm,
I'll bring you to a captain in this town,
Where lie my maiden weeds; by whose gentle help
I was preserved to serve this noble count.
All the occurrence of my fortune since
Hath been between this lady and this lord.


120

V,1,2471

Orsino. Be not amazed; right noble is his blood.
If this be so, as yet the glass seems true,
I shall have share in this most happy wreck.
[To VIOLA]
Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times
Thou never shouldst love woman like to me.

Viola. And all those sayings will I overswear;
And those swearings keep as true in soul
As doth that orbed continent the fire
That severs day from night.


121

V,1,2477

Orsino. Give me thy hand;
And let me see thee in thy woman's weeds.

Viola. The captain that did bring me first on shore
Hath my maid's garments: he upon some action
Is now in durance, at Malvolio's suit,
A gentleman, and follower of my lady's.


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