Scene 1 Synopsis: At his court, Orsino, sick with love for the Lady Olivia, learns from his messenger that she is grieving for her dead brother and refuses to be seen for seven years. Enter Orsino, Duke of Illyria, Curio, and other Lords, with Musicians playing. ORSINO If 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. O, it came o’er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odor. 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, naught 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. CURIO Will you go hunt, my lord? ORSINO What, Curio? CURIO The hart. ORSINO Why, so I do, the noblest that I have. O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first, Methought she purged the air of pestilence. That instant was I turned into a hart, And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, E’er since pursue me. Enter Valentine. How now, what news from her? VALENTINE So please my lord, I might not be admitted, 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 veilèd 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. ORSINO 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 killed the flock of all affections else That live in her; when liver, brain, and heart, These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and filled Her sweet perfections with one self king! Away before me to sweet beds of flowers! Love thoughts lie rich when canopied with bowers. They exit.