ACT 1
[Enter DUKE ORSINO, CURIO, and other Lords; Musicians attending]
DUKE ORSINO
If music be the food of love, play on;
If music is the fuel of love, play on!
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
Play tunes aplenty till I’ve heard too much,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.
And then these pangs will pale and fade away.
That strain again! It had a dying fall:
Play that refrain again; I found it haunting.
O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound,
To me, it sounded like the gentle purr
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Of blowing breeze through violets on a bank,
Stealing and giving odour! Enough; no more:
Distributing their scent. But, that’s enough!
'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
For now, love’s not as sweet as once it was.
O spirit of love! How quick and fresh art thou,
Oh love, one moment you are fresh and racy,
That, notwithstanding thy capacity
And even though you have capacity
Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,
To drink all water from the sea, you don’t,
Of what validity and pitch soe'er,
Despite how fine and wonderful it is;
But falls into abatement and low price,
You let your thirst decline and fade away
Even in a minute: so full of shapes is fancy
In just a minute. Love is always changing
That it alone is high fantastical.
And that’s fantastically magnificent.
CURIO
Will you go hunt, my lord?
My lord, are you off hunting?
DUKE ORSINO
What, Curio?
Hunting what?
CURIO
The hart.
The stag.
DUKE ORSINO
Why, so I do, the noblest that I have:
Oh yes, I’ll hunt the finest heart there is.
O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first,
For when my eyes first saw Olivia,
Methought she purged the air of pestilence!
I thought she cleansed the air of all disease.
That instant was I turned into a hart;
And from that moment I became a stag,
And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,
And my desires, akin to savage hounds,
E'er since pursue me.
Have hounded me since then.
[Enter VALENTINE]
How now! What news from her?
Hi, what’s she said?
VALENTINE
So please my lord, I might not be admitted;
Apologies, my lord, I didn’t see her,
But from her handmaid do return this answer:
But got this answer for you from her maid:
The element itself, till seven years' heat,
The sun itself, for seven summers more,
Shall not behold her face at ample view;
Won’t get to see her unobstructed face,
But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk
Because she’ll wear a veil like a nun,
And water once a day her chamber round
And cry each day as she walks round her bedroom
With eye-offending brine: all this to season
With stinging tears, for only to preserve
A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh
The love for her dead brother, which she’ll keep
And lasting in her sad remembrance.
Alive in her sad memories of him.
DUKE ORSINO
O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame
If she has such a noble-minded heart
To pay this debt of love but to a brother,
That pays this debt of love just to her brother,
How will she love, when the rich golden shaft
Imagine how she’ll love when Cupid’s arrow
Hath killed the flock of all affections else
Has killed off all those sources of affection
That live in her; when liver, brain and heart,
That she has now; when all her vital organs,
These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and filled
That govern how she loves, all overwhelm
Her sweet perfections with one self king!
Her sweet perfections with the love of me!
Away before me to sweet beds of flowers:
Lead me away to lie amongst sweet flowers;
Love-thoughts lie rich when canopied with bowers.
For plants give thoughts of love far greater powers.
[Exeunt]
