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TWELFTH NIGHT;
OR,
WHAT YOU WILL.
A COMEDY.
IN FIVE ACTS;
BY WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE.
REVISED BY
J. P. KEMBLE.
AS NOW PERFORMED AT THE
THEATRE ROYAL, COVENT-GARDEN.
LONDON:
PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND
BROWN, PATERNOSTER-ROW.
EDINBURGH:
Printed by James Ballantyne and Co.
DRAMATIS PERSONAE.
DUKE ORSINO _Mr Barrymore_.
VALENTINE _Mr Claremont_.
CURIO _Mr Treby_.
SIR TOBY BELCH _Mr Emery_.
SIR ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK _Mr Munden_.
SEBASTIAN _Mr Hamerton_.
ANTONIO _Mr Cresswell_.
ROBERTO _Mr Jefferies_.
FRIAR _Mr Atkins_.
MALVOLIO _Mr Liston_.
CLOWN _Mr Fawcett_.
FABIAN _Mr Farley_.
FIRST OFFICER _Mr King_.
SECOND OFFICER _Mr Lambert_.
OLIVIA _Mrs C. Kemble_.
VIOLA _Miss S. Booth_.
MARIA _Mrs Gibbs_.
_Gentlemen.--Musicians.--Sailors.--Servants._
SCENE--_A City in Illyria, and the Sea-coast near it._
TWELFTH NIGHT;
OR,
WHAT YOU WILL.
ACT THE FIRST.
SCENE I.
_The Sea-coast._
_Enter_ VIOLA, ROBERTO, _and two Sailors, carrying a Trunk_.
_Vio._ What country, friends, is this?
_Rob._ This is Illyria, lady.
_Vio._ And what should I do in Illyria?
My brother he is in Elysium.
Perchance, he is not drown'd:--What think you, sailors?
_Rob._ It is perchance, that you yourself were saved.
_Vio._ O my poor brother! and so, perchance may he be.
_Rob._ True, madam; and, to comfort you with chance,
Assure yourself, after our ship did split,
When you, and that 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 practice)
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.
_Vio._ Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,
Whereto thy speech serves for authority,
The like of him. Know'st thou this country?
_Rob._ Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and born,
Not three hours travel from this very place.
_Vio._ Who governs here?
_Rob._ A noble duke, in nature,
As in his name.
_Vio._ What is his name?
_Rob._ Orsino.
_Vio._ Orsino!--I have heard my father name him:
He was a bachelor then.
_Rob._ 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.
_Vio._ What is she?
_Rob._ 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.
_Vio._ Oh, that I served that lady!
And might not be deliver'd to the world,
Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,
What my estate is!
_Rob._ That were hard to compass;
Because she will admit no kind of suit,
No, not the duke's.
_Vio._ There is a fair behaviour in thee, captain;
And, I believe, thou hast a mind that suits
With this thy fair and outward character.
I pray thee, 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 shalt present me as a page unto him,
Of gentle breeding, and my name, Cesario:--
That trunk, the reliques of my sea-drown'd brother,
Will furnish man's apparel to my need:--
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.
_Rob._ Be you his page, and I your mute will be;
When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see!
_Vio._ I thank thee:--Lead me on. [_Exeunt._