Enter Viola, a Captain, and Sailors.
Vio. What country, friends, is this?
Cap. [This is] Illyria, lady.
Vio. And what should I do in Illyria?
My brother he is in Elysium.
Perchance he is not drown'd: what think you, sailors?
Cap. It is perchance that you yourself were saved.
Vio. O my poor brother! [and so] perchance may he be.
Cap. True, madam: and, to comfort you with chance,
Assure yourself, after our ship did split,