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Orsini

Twelfth Night

If music be the food of love

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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.
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Source:
Act 1
Scene 1
Line 1

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On your attendance, my lord, here

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Viola
On your attendance, my lord, here.
Orsino, to Curio and Attendants
Stand you awhile aloof.—Cesario,
Thou know’st no less but all. I have unclasped
To thee the book even of my secret soul.
Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her.
Be not denied access. Stand at her doors
And tell them,
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Source:
Act 1
Scene 4
Line 12

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