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TWELFTH-NIGHT;

OR,

WHAT YOU WILL.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

Orsino, duke of Illyria.
Sebastian, a young gentleman, brother to Viola.
Antonio, a sea-captain, friend to Sebustian.
A sea-captain, friend to Viola.
Valentine, gentlemen attending on the duke.
Curio,
Sir Toby Belch, uncle of Olivia.
Sir Andrew Ague-cheek.
Malvolio, steward to Olivia.
Fabian,

Clown. servants to Olivia.

Olivia, a rich countess.
Viola, in love with the duke.
Maria, Olivia's woman.

Lords, priests, sailors,officers, musicians, and other

attendants.

Scene, a city in Illyria; and the seu-coast near it.

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SCENE I. An apartment in the Duke's palace. Enter Duke, Curio, Lords ; musicians attending.

. Duke..
. ! le music be the food of love, play on,

Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.
That strain again ;-it had a dying fall:
0, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south,
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 notwithstauding thy capacity
Receiveth as the sea, vought enters there,
Of what validity* and pitch soever,

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But falls into abatement and low price,
Even in a minute! so full of shapes is fancy,
That it alone is high-fantastical*.

Cur. Will you go hunt, my lord ?
Duke.

What, Curio? Cur.

The hart, Duke. Why, so I do, the noblest that I have: 0, when mine eyes did see Olivia first, Methought, she purg'd the air of pestilence; That instant was I turn'd into a hart; And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, B'er since pursue me.-How now? what news from

her?

Enter Valentine. Val. Soplease my lord, I might not be admitted, But from her handmaid do return this answer: The element itself, till seven years heatt, 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.

Duke, 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,

[Ereunt, • Fantastical to the height. + Heated,

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