Twelfth Night

A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count
That died some twelvemonth since, then leaving her
In the protection of his son, her brother,
Who shortly also died: for whose dear love,
They say, she hath abjured the company
And sight of men.

And water once a day her chamber round
With eye-offending brine: all this to season
A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh
And lasting in her sad remembrance.

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 turn'd into a hart;

'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
O spirit of love! how quick and fresh art thou,

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;