Vio. What is his name?

Cap. Orfino.

Vio. Orfino! I have heard my father name him: He was a batchelor then.

Cap. And fo is now, or was fo 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 lefs will prattle of)
That he did feek the love of fair Olivia.

Vio. What's he?

Cop. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count, That dy'd fome twelve months fince; then leaving her In the protection of his fon, her brother,

Who fhortly alfo dy'd: for whofe dear love,
They fay, the hath abjur'd the fight

And company of men.

Vio. O, that I ferv'd that lady;

And might not be deliver'd to the world',
'Till I had made mine own occafion mellow

What my eftate is!

Cap. That were hard to compafs;

Because fhe will admit no kind of fuit,
No, not the Duke's.

Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, Captain;
And, tho' that nature with a beauteous wall
Doth oft clofe in pollution, yet of thee,
I will believe, thou haft a mind that fuits
With this thy fair and outward character.
I pray thee, and I'll pay thee bounteously,

And might not be deliver'd, &c.]

I wish I might not be made public to the world, with regard to the flate of my birth and fortune, till I have gained a ripe opportunity for my defign.

Viola feems to have formed a very deep defign with very little premeditation: the is thrown by fhipwreck on an unknown coaft, hears that the prince is a batchelor, and refolves to fupplant the lady whom he courts. JOHNSON.

Conceal

Conceal me what I am; and be my aid
For fuch difguife as, haply, fhall become
The form of my intent. I'll ferve this Duke ;
Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him,
It may be worth thy pains; for I can fing,
And speak to him in many forts of mufick,
That will allow me very worth his service,
What elfe may hap, to time I will commit;
Only shape thou thy filence to my wit.

Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be: When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not fee. Vio. I thank thee: lead me on.

SCENE III.

Olivia's house.

Enter Sir Toby, and Maria.

[Exeunt.

Sir To. What a plague means my niece, to take the death of her brother thus? I am fure, care's an enemy to life.

Mar. By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier a-nights; your coufin, 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 modeft limits of order..

Sir To. Confine? I'll confine myfelf no finer than I am these clothes are good enough to drink in, and fo be these boots too; an they be not, let them hang themselves in their own ftraps.

Mar. That quaffing and drinking will undo you: I heard my lady talk of it yefterday; and of a foolish knight that you brought in one night here, to be her

Wooer.

I'll ferve this Duke ;]

Viola is an excellent schemer, never at a lofs; if he cannot ferve the lady, fhe will ferve the Duke. JOHNSON.

Sir To. Who? Sir Andrew Ague-cheek?

Mar. Ay, he.

Sir To. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria.
Mar. What's that to the purpofe?

Sir To. Why, he has three thoufand ducats a year, 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 fay fo! he plays o'th' violde-gambo 3, 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, befides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller; and, but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the guft 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 fcoundrels and fubtractors that fay fo of him. Who are they?

Mar. They that add moreover, he's drunk nightly in your company.

Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece: I'll drink to her as long as there's a paffage in my throat, and drink in Illyria. He's a coward, and a coyftril, that will not drink to my niece, till his brains turn o'the toe like a parish-top. What, wench? 4 Caftiliano Volgo; for here comes Sir Andrew Ague-face. Enter

3

viol de-gambo,] The viol-de-gambo feems, in our author's time, to have been a very fashionable inftrument. In The Return from Parnaffus, 1606, it is mentioned with its proper derivation.

"Her viol-de-gambo is her beft content

"For 'twixt her legs fhe holds her inftrument." In the old dramatic writers frequent mention is made of a cafe of viols, confifting of the viol de gambo, the tenor, and the treble. STEEVENS,

Caftiliano vulgo ;] We fhould read volto. In English, put on your Caftilian countenance; that is, your grave, soJemn looks. The Oxford editor has taken my emendation: But,

by

Enter Sir Andrew.

Sir And. Sir Toby Belch! how now, Sir Toby Belch?

Sir To. Sweet Sir Andrew!

Sir And. Blefs you, fair fhrew.

Mar. And you too, fir.

Sir To. Accoft, Sir Andrew, accost.

Sir And. What's that?

Sir To. My niece's chamber-maid.

Sir And. Good mistress Accoft, I defire better acquaintance.

Mar. My name is Mary, Sir.

Sir And. Good Mrs. Mary Accost,

Sir To. You miltake, knight: accoft, is, front her, board her, woo her, affail her.

Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake her in this company. Is that the meaning of accoft? Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen.

Sir To. An thou let her part fo, Sir Andrew, would thou might'ft never draw fword again.

Sir And. An you part fo, miftrefs, I would I might never draw fword again. Fair lady, do you think, you have fools in hand?

by Caftilian countenance, he fuppofes it meant moft civil and courtly looks. It is plain, he understands gravity and formality to be civility and courtliness. WARBURTON.

Caftiliano volgo. I meet with the word Caftilian and Caftilians in feveral of the old comedies. It is difficult to affign any peculiar propriety to it, as it appears to have been used as a cant term. The hoft, in the M. W. of Windfor, calls Caius a Caftilianking Urinal; and in the Merry Devil of Edmonton, one of the characters fays, Ha! my Caftilian dialogues! in an old comedy call'd Look about you, 1600, it is join'd with another toper's exclamation very frequent in Shakespeare:

"And Rivo will he cry, and Caftile too."

So again in Heywood's Jeru of Malta, 1633.

Hey, Rivo Caftiliano, man's a man. STEEVENS.

Mar. Sir, I have not you by the hand.

Sir And. Marry, but you fhall have; and here's my hand.

Mar. Now, fir, thought is free: I pray you, bring your hand to the buttery-bar, and let it drink.

Sir And. Wherefore, fweet heart? what's your metaphor?

Mar. It's dry, fir 5.

Sir And. Why, I think fo: I am not fuch an ass, but I can keep my hand dry.

Mar. A dry jeft, fir.

But what's your jeft?

Sir And. Are you full of them?

Mar. Ay, fir; I have them at my fingers ends: marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren.

[Exit Maria, Sir To. O knight, thou lack'ft a cup of canary: When did I see thee fo put down?

Sir And. Never in your life, I think; unless you fee canary put me down: Methinks, fometimes I have no more wit than a christian, or an ordinary man has; but I am a great eater of beef, and, I believe, that does harm to my wit.

Sir To. No question.

Sir And. An I thought that, I'd forfwear it. I'll ride home to-morrow, Sir Toby.

Sir To. Pourqury, my dear knight.

Sir And. What is pourquoy? do, or not do? I would, I had bestowed that time in the tongues, that I have in fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting. O, had I

but follow'd the arts!

Sir To. Then hadft thou had an excellent head of hair.

5 It's dry, fir.] What is the jeft of dry hand, I know not any better than Sir Andrew. It may poffibly mean, a hand with no money in it; or, according to the rules of phyfiognomy, fhe may intend to infinuate, that it is not a lover's hand, a moift hand being vulgafly accounted a fign of an amorous conflitution.

JOHNSON.