No Fear Shakespeare – Twelfth Night (by SparkNotes) -1- Original Text Modern Text Act 1, Scene 1 Enter ORSINO, CURIO, and other lords; Musicians playing ORSINO, CURIO, and other lords enter with musicians playing for them. 5 10 15 ORSINOIf 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. Oh, 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, 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. ORSINOIf it’s true that music makes people more in love, keep playing. Give me too much of it, so I’ll get sick of it and stop loving. Play that part again! It sounded sad. Oh, it sounded like a sweet breeze blowing gently over a bank of violets, taking their scent with it. That’s enough. Stop. It doesn’t sound as sweet as it did before. Oh, love is so restless! It makes you want everything, but it makes you sick of things a minute later, no matter how good they are. Love is so vivid and fantastical that nothing compares to it. CURIOWill you go hunt, my lord? CURIODo you want to go hunting, my lord? ORSINOWhat, Curio? ORSINOHunting what, Curio? CURIOThe hart. CURIOThe hart. 20 ORSINOWhy, so I do, the noblest that I have. Oh, 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. ORSINOThat’s what I’m doing—only it’s myheart that’s being hunted. Oh, when I first saw Olivia, it seemed like she made the air around her sweeter and purer. In that instant I was transformed into a hart, and my desire for her has hounded me like a pack of vicious dogs. Act 1, Scene 1, Page 2 Enter VALENTINEVALENTINEenters. How now! What news from her? What’s going on? What have you heard from her? 25 30 VALENTINESo 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 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. VALENTINEI’m sorry, but they wouldn’t let me in. But I got the following answer from her handmaid. Olivia’s not going to show her face for the next seven years—not even to the sky itself. Instead, she’ll go around veiled like a nun, and once a day she’ll water her room with tears. She’s doing this out of love for her dead brother, whom she wants to keep fresh in her memory forever.