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Enter Orsino, Duke of Ilyria, Curio and other Lords [with Musicians playing]
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| If music be the food of love, play on. Give me excess of it (...) O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound. O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou. It alone is high fantastical. | |
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| Will you go hunt my lord? | |
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| 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, E'er pursue me. | |
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