ORSINO, Duke of Illyria.
SEBASTIAN, a young Gentleman, brother to Viola.
ANTONIO, a Sea Captain, friend to Sebastian.
A SEA CAPTAIN, friend to Viola
VALENTINE, Gentleman attending on the Duke
CURIO, Gentleman attending on the Duke
SIR TOBY BELCH, Uncle of Olivia.
SIR ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK.
MALVOLIO, Steward to Olivia.
FABIAN, Servant to Olivia.
CLOWN, Servant to Olivia.
OLIVIA, a rich Countess.
VIOLA, in love with the Duke.
MARIA, Olivia's Woman.
Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians, and other
Scene: A City in Illyria; and the Sea-coast near it.
Enter DUKE ORSINO, CURIO, and other Lords; Musicians attendingDUKE ORSINO
If music be the food of love, play on;CURIO
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.
That strain again! it had a dying fall:
O, it came o′er my ear like the sweet sound,
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour! Enough; no more:
′Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
O spirit of love! how quick and fresh art thou,
That, notwithstanding thy capacity
Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,
Of what validity and pitch soe′er,
But falls into abatement and low price,
Even in a minute: so full of shapes is fancy
That it alone is high fantastical.
Will you go hunt, my lord?DUKE ORSINO
The hart.DUKE ORSINO
Why, so I do, the noblest that I have:VALENTINE
O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first,
Methought she purged the air of pestilence!
That instant was I turn′d into a hart;
And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,
E′er since pursue me.
Enter VALENTINEHow now! what news from her?
So please my lord, I might not be admitted;DUKE ORSINO
But from her handmaid do return this answer:
The element itself, till seven years′ heat,
Shall not behold her face at ample view;
But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk
And water once a day her chamber round
With eye-offending brine: all this to season
A brother′s dead love, which she would keep fresh
And lasting in her sad remembrance.
O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame
To pay this debt of love but to a brother,
How will she love, when the rich golden shaft
Hath kill′d the flock of all affections else
That live in her; when liver, brain and heart,
These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and fill′d
Her sweet perfections with one self king!
Away before me to sweet beds of flowers:
Love-thoughts lie rich when canopied with bowers.
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