If music be the food of love, play on! For tis Olivia and only Olivia for whom my heart adores.
How now! What news from her?
No matter, for I will be going to hunt the hart. Love is a chase, it's one's hunt, Valentine. And the hunt has begun. For these sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and fill'd her sweet perfections with oneself, king!
I am sorry for this my lord, Duke Orsino, from her handmaid I do return this answer: "Dear Olivia, is mourning, the death of herbrother. She will therefore become a nun and mourn for 7 years and during this time she will not even show her face let alone leave her place. " She now refuses the sight of men.
My brother he is in Elysium. Perchance he is not drowned, did you see him Mr. Captain?
Where to thy speech serves for authority, the like of him. Who governs here? Where may I work?
What country, friend, is this?
Then I will work for the Duke and in order to do so dress as a man. For tis men not women who can guarantee safety and money. It may be worth thy pains; for I can sing and speak with him in many sorts of music, that will allow me very worth his service. What else may hap to time I will commit: only shape thou silence my wit. Will you help me?
Mute I'll be. I will help, I'll lead on, fortunately I was born and bred not 3 hours from this very place.
A noble duke by the name of Orsino a bachelor who now finally has decided upon love. This love is rumored to be for Olivia a mourning daughter of a count. But you may not work there for they say, she has locked all doors. She hath abjured the company and sight of all especially men. Tis why she doesn't accept the Duke's pleads of love.
Young lady, this is Illyria
It's perchance that you yourself were saved your lucky I was able to find you and save you. And so perchance someone saved him. But to comfort you with chance so long as I could see I saw your brother in the poor number of those saved. For saying so, there's gold.