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Enter the Duke, Curio, and Lords.



F mufick be the food of love, play on;
Give me excess of it; that, furfeiting,
The appetite may ficken, and fo die.

that, furfeiting, The appetite may ficken, and fo die.] There is an impropriety of expreffion in the prefent reading of this fine paffage. We do not say, that the appetite fickens and dies thro' a furfeit; bus



the fubject of that appetite. I am perfuaded, a word is accidentally dropt; and that we should read, and point, the paffage thus, that, furfeiting

The app'tite, LOVE may ficken, and fo die. WARBURT.

A a

2 That strain again;-it had a dying fall:
O, it came o'er my ear, like the sweet fouth,
That breathes upon a bank of violets,

Stealing and giving odour. Enough!-no more;
'Tis not fo fweet now, as it was before.

O fpirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou!
That, notwithstanding thy capacity
Receiveth as the fea, nought enters there,
Of what validity and pitch foe'er,

But falls into abatement and low price,
Even in a minute; fo full of fhapes in fancy,


It is true, we do not talk of the death of appetite, because we do not ordinarily fpeak in the figurative language of poetry; but that appetite fickens by a furfeit is true, and therefore proper. 2 That firain again;—it had a dying fall:


O! it came o'er my ear, like the
fweet fouth,
That breathes upon a bank of

Stealing and giving odour.-] Amongst the beauties of this charming fimilitude, its exact propriety is not the leaft. For, as a fouth wind, while blowing over a violet-bank, wafts away the odour of the flowers, it, at the fame time, communicates its own fweetness to it; fo the foft affecting mufick, here defcribed, tho' it takes away the natural, fweet, tranquillity of the mind, yet, at the fame time, it communicates a new pleasure to it. Or, it may allude to another property of mufick, where the fame trains have a power to excite pain or pleasure, as the ftate is, in which it finds the hearer. Hence Milton makes the felf

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fame ftrains of Orpheus proper to excite both the affections of mirth and melancholy, juft as the mind is then difpofed. If to mirth, he calls for fuch mufick,

That Orpheus" felf may beave

his head,

From golden flumbers on a bed
Of heapt Elysian flowers, and


Such trains as would have won
the ear

Of Pluto, to have quite fet free
His half-regain'd Eurydice.

If to melancholy-
Or bid the foul of Orpheus fing
Such notes as warbled to the

Drew iron tears down Fluto's

And made Hell grant what love
did feek.
Il penferofo.
13 so full of shapes is fancy,

That it alone is HIGH

fantaflical.] This complicated nonfenfe fhould be rectified thus,

・fo full of shapes IN fancy, That it alone is HIGHT fantaflical.

That it alone is high fantastical.i

Cur. Will you go hunt, my Lord? ble som k
Duke. What, Curio?

Gur. The hart.

Duke. Why, fo I do, the nobleft that I have: O, when my eyes did fee Olivia first, Methought, fhe purg'd the air of peftilence; That inftant was I turn'd into a hart +,

And my defires, like fell and cruel hounds,
E'er fince purfue me. How now, what news from her?

Enter Valentine.

Val. So please my Lord, I might not be admitted, But from her hand-maid do return this answer: The element itfelf, 'till feven years hence, Shall not behold her face at ample view; But, like a cloystress, she will veiled walk, And water once a day her chamber round With eye-offending brine: all this to feafon A brother's dead love, which fhe would keep fresh And lafting in her fad remembrance.


Duke. O, fhe, that hath a heart of that fine frame, pay this debt of love but to a brother,

i. e. love is fo full of fhapes in fancy, that the name of fantaftical is peculiarly given to it alone. But, for the old nonfenfe, the Oxford Editor gives us his new.

fo full of frapes is fancy, And thou all o'er art high fantaftical, Says the Critic.

WARBURTON, 4 That inftant I was turn'd in

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to a bart,] This image evidently alludes to the ftory of Acteon, by which Shakespeare feems to think men cautioned against too great familiarity with forbidden beauty. Acteon, who faw Diana naked, and was torn in

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pieces by his hounds, reprefents a man, who indulging his eyes, or his imagination, with the view of a woman that he cannot gain, has his heart torn with inceffant longing. An interpretation far more elegant and natural than that of Sir Francis Bacon, who, in his Wisdom of the Antients, fuppofes this story to warn us against enquiring into the fecrets of princes, by fhowing, that thofe who knew that which for reasons of state is to be concealed, will be detected and destroyed by their own fer

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How will the love, when the rich golden fhaft
Hath kill'd the flock of all affections elfe

That live in her? when liver, brain, and heart,
'Three fov'reign thrones, are all fupply'd, and fill'd,
Her fweet perfections, with one felf-fame King!
Away before me to fweet beds of flowers;
Love-thoughts lye rich, when canopy'd with bowers.



The Street.

Enter Viola, a Captain and Sailors,

Vio. Cap. Illyria, Lady.

HAT country, friends, is this?

Vio. And what fhould I do in Illyria? My brother he is in Elyftum.

Perchance, he is not drown'd; what think you, failors? Cap. It is perchance, that you yourself were fav'd. Vio. O my poor brother! fo, perchance, may he be. Cap. True, Madam: and to comfort you with chance,

Affure yourself, after our fhip did fplit,

When you, and that poor number fav'd with you,
Hung on our driving boat: I faw your brother,
Moft provident in peril, bind himfelf


(Courage and hope both teaching him the practice) T
To a strong maft, that liv'd upon the fea;
Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back,

I faw him hold acquaintance with the waves,
So long as I could fee.

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Vio. For faying fo, there's gold.

Mine own efcape unfoldeth to my hope,
Whereto thy fpeech ferves for authority,

The like of him. Know'st thou this country?
Cap. Ay, Madam, well; for I was bred and born,
Not three hours travel from this very place.
Vio. Who governs here?

Cap. A noble Duke in nature, as in name'.
Vio. What is his name?

Cap. Orfino.

Vio.. Orfino! I have heard my father name him: He was a batchelor then.

Cap. And for is now, or was fo very late;
For but a month ago I went from hence,
And then 'twas fresh in murmur (as you know,
What Great ones do, the lefs will prattle of),
That he did feek the love of fair Olivia.
Vio. What's the?

Cap. A virtuous maid, the daughter of a Count, That dy'd fome twelve months fince, then leaving her In the protection of his fon, her brother,

Who fhortly alfo dy'd; for whofe dear love,
They fay, the hath abjur'd the fight

And company of men.

Vio. O, that I ferv'd that lady,

And might not be deliver'd to the world", 'Till I had made mine own occafion mellow What my eftate is!

Cap. That were hard to compafs;

1 A noble Duke in nature, as in name.] I know not whether the nobility of the name is comprifed in Duke, or in Orfino, which is, I think, the name of a great Italian family.


And might not be deliver'd, &c.] I with I might not be made publick to the world, with regard to the fate of my birth

and fortune, till I have gained a ripe opportunity for my defign.

Viola feems to have formed a very deep defign with very little premeditation: fhe is thrown by fhipwreck on an unknown coaft, hears that the prince is a batchelor, and refolves to fupplant the lady whom he courts.

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