Act I · Scene II
The sea-coast.
Hover a speech to translate it — or press play to hear it performed.
Enter VIOLA, a Captain, and Sailors
VIOLA
What country, friends, 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, sailors?
Captain
It is perchance that you yourself were saved.
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 saved with youHung 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 wavesSo 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?
Captain
Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and bornNot three hours' travel from this very place.
VIOLA
Who governs here?
Captain
A noble duke, in nature as in name.
VIOLA
What is the 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?
Captain
A virtuous maid, the daughter of a countThat died some twelvemonth since, then leaving herIn the protection of his son, her brother,Who shortly also died: for whose dear love,They say, she hath abjured the companyAnd sight of men.
VIOLA
O that I served that ladyAnd might not be delivered 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 a fair behavior in thee, captain;And though that nature with a beauteous wallDoth oft close in pollution, yet of theeI will believe thou hast a mind that suitsWith this thy fair and outward character.I prithee, and I'll pay thee bounteously,Conceal me what I am, and be my aidFor such disguise as haply shall becomeThe 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 singAnd speak to him in many sorts of musicThat will allow me very worth his service.What else may hap to time I will commit;Only shape thou thy silence to my wit.
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