Extra words Act 1

Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken and so die.

O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou,
That, notwithstanding thy capacity
Receiveth as the sea, naught enters there,
Of what validity and pitch soe’er,
But falls into abatement and low price
Even in a minute.

O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou,
That, notwithstanding thy capacity
Receiveth as the sea, naught enters there,
Of what validity and pitch soe’er,
But falls into abatement and low price
Even in a minute.

O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first,
Methought she purged the air of pestilence.

O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first,
Methought she purged the air of pestilence.

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 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.

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 sight
And company of men.

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.

Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him.

MARIA By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier
o’ nights.

MARIA That quaffing and drinking will undo you.

TOBY Why, he has three thousand ducats a year!

He’s a very fool and a prodigal.

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.

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.

What, wench!

ANDREW, to Maria Bless you, fair shrew.

TOBY Accost, Sir Andrew, accost!

ANDREW Wherefore, sweetheart?

ANDREW An I thought that, I’d forswear it.

It hangs like flax on a distaff, and I
hope to see a huswife take thee between her legs
and spin it off.

I delight in masques
and revels sometimes altogether.

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.

ANDREW Faith, I can cut a caper.

ORSINO, to Curio and Attendants
Stand you awhile aloof.—Cesario,

Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her.

Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith.

ORSINO Dear lad, believe it;
For they shall yet belie thy happy years
That say thou art a man.

Anything that’s
mended is but patched; virtue that transgresses is
but patched with sin, and sin that amends is but
patched 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.

That’s as much to say as, I
wear not motley in my brain.

To be generous, guiltless,
and of free disposition is to take those things
for bird-bolts that you deem cannon bullets.

There
is no slander in an allowed Fool, though he do
nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known discreet
man, though he do nothing but reprove.

There
is no slander in an allowed Fool, though he do
nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known discreet
man, though he do nothing but reprove.

MARIA Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman.

TOBY ’Tis a gentleman here—a plague o’ these pickle
herring!—How now, sot?

One
draught above heat makes him a fool, the second
mads him, and a third drowns him.

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.

OLIVIA Whence came you, sir?

OLIVIA If I do not usurp myself, I am.

OLIVIA It is the more like to be feigned.

I heard you were saucy at my gates, and
allowed your approach rather to wonder at you than
to hear you.

I bring no overture
of war, no taxation of homage.

What I am and
what I would are as secret as maidenhead: to your
ears, divinity; to any other’s, profanation.

O, such love
Could be but recompensed though you were
crowned
The nonpareil of beauty.

O, such love
Could be but recompensed though you were
crowned
The nonpareil of beauty.

Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble,
Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth;
In voices well divulged, free, learned, and valiant,
And in dimension and the shape of nature
A gracious person.

VIOLA
Make me a willow cabin at your gate
And call upon my soul within the house,
Write loyal cantons of contemnèd 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 elements of air and earth
But you should pity me.