Viola's lines in Twelfth Night

Viola. What country, friends, is this?

Viola. And what should I do in Illyria? My brother he is in Elysium. Perchance he is not drown'd: what think you, sailors?

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

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?

Viola. Who governs here?

Viola. What is the name?

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

Viola. What's she?

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!

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 shalt 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.

Viola. I thank thee: lead me on.

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?

Viola. I thank you. Here comes the count.

Viola. On your attendance, my lord; here.

Viola. Sure, my noble lord, If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow As it is spoke, she never will admit me.

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

Viola. I think not so, my lord.

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

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

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.

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.

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?

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.

Viola. Alas, I took great pains to study it, and 'tis poetical.

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.

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.

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.

Viola. Most sweet lady,--

Viola. In Orsino's bosom.

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

Viola. Good madam, let me see your face.

Viola. Excellently done, if God did all.

Viola. And truly plotted, either for matrimony or the pie- house.

Viola. It is excellent well done.

Viola. Thy tongue, some mollification for your giant, sweet lady. Tell me your mind: I am a messenger.

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.

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.

Viola. Most sweet lady,--

Viola. In Orsino's bosom.

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

Viola. Good madam, let me see your face.

Viola. Excellently done, if God did all.

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.

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 recompens'd, though you were crown'd The nonpareil of beauty!

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

Viola. You might do much relative to my fortune; 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.

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; 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!

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

Viola. I am no fee'd post, lady; keep your purse: My master, not myself, lack 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.

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!

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

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.

Viola. Make me a willow cabin at your gate, And call upon my soul within the house; Write loyal cantons of condemned 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!

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

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.

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

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

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-falso 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!

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

Viola. A little, by your favour.

Viola. Of your complexion.

Viola. About your years, my lord.

Viola. I think it well, my lord.

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

Viola. But if she cannot love you, sir?

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?

Viola. Ay, but I 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.

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.

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?

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

Viola. Art thou a churchman?

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.

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

Viola. Why, man?

Viola. Thy reason, man?

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

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

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

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

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?

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

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

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.

Viola. And you, sir.

Viola. Et vous aussi; votre serviteur.

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

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

Viola. I am for you. I will answer you with gait and entrance. But we are prevented.

Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain odours on you!

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

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

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

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

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

Viola. Dear lady,--

Viola. I pity you.

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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

Viola. I will acquit you.

Viola. And you, sir.

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.

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

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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.

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.

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!

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.

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

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.

Viola. How can this be?

Viola. Madam!

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

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

Viola. After him I love More than I love these eyes, 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!

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

Viola. No, my lord, not I.

Viola. My lord, I do protest--

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.

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.

Viola. My father had a mole upon his brow.

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

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.

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.