Twelfth Night

that can be can come between me and the full
prospect of my hopes

Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?

She is drowned already, sir, with salt
water, though I seem to drown her remembrance again with more

Act III
SCENE I. OLIVIA's garden.

SCENE V. OLIVIA'S house.

time! thou must untangle this, not I;

Fate, show thy force: ourselves we do not owe;
What is decreed must be, and be this so.

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 odour! Enough; no more:
'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
O spirit of love! how quick and fresh art thou,

virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?

sack; 'tis too late
to go to bed now: come, knight; come, knight.
Exeunt