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- $Unique_ID{SSP03009}
- $Title{Twelfth Night: Act II, Scene IV}
- $Author{Shakespeare, William}
- $Subject{}
- $Log{Dramatis Personae*03000.txt}
-
- Portions copyright (c) CMC ReSearch, Inc., 1989
-
- The Complete Works of William Shakespeare
-
- TWELFTH NIGHT
-
-
- ACT II
- ................................................................................
-
-
- SCENE IV: DUKE ORSINO's palace.
- . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
-
- {Enter DUKE ORSINO, VIOLA, CURIO, and others.}
-
- DUKE ORSINO: Give me some music. Now, good morrow, friends.
- Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song,
- That old and antique song we heard last night:
- Methought it did relieve my passion much,
- More than light airs and recollected terms
- Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times:
- Come, but one verse.
-
- CURIO: He is not here, so please your lordship that should
- sing it.
-
- DUKE ORSINO: Who was it? 10
-
- CURIO: Feste, the jester, my lord; a fool that the lady
- Olivia's father took much delight in. He is about
- the house.
-
- DUKE ORSINO: Seek him out, and play the tune the while.
-
- [Exit CURIO. Music plays.]
-
- Come hither, boy: if ever thou shalt love,
- In the sweet pangs of it remember me;
- For such as I am all true lovers are,
- Unstaid and skittish in all motions else,
- Save in the constant image of the creature
- That is beloved. How dost thou like this tune? 20
-
- VIOLA: It gives a very echo to the seat
- Where Love is throned.
-
- DUKE ORSINO: Thou dost speak masterly:
- My life upon,t, young though thou art, thine eye
- Hath stay'd upon some favour that it loves:
- Hath it not, boy?
-
- VIOLA: A little, by your favour.
-
- DUKE ORSINO: What kind of woman is't?
-
- VIOLA: Of your complexion.
-
- DUKE ORSINO: She is not worth thee, then. What years, i' faith?
-
- VIOLA: About your years, my lord.
-
- DUKE ORSINO: Too old by heaven: let still the woman take 30
- An elder than herself: so wears she to him,
- So sways she level in her husband's heart:
- For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,
- Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,
- More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn,
- Than women's are.
-
- VIOLA: I think it well, my lord.
-
- DUKE ORSINO: Then let thy love be younger than thyself,
- Or thy affection cannot hold the bent;
- For women are as roses, whose fair flower
- Being once display'd, doth fall that very hour. 40
-
- VIOLA: And so they are: alas, that they are so;
- To die, even when they to perfection grow!
-
- {Re-enter CURIO and Clown.}
-
- DUKE ORSINO: O, fellow, come, the song we had last night.
- Mark it, Cesario, it is old and plain;
- The spinsters and the knitters in the sun
- And the free maids that weave their thread with bones
- Do use to chant it: it is silly sooth,
- And dallies with the innocence of love,
- Like the old age.
-
- Clown: Are you ready, sir? 50
-
- DUKE ORSINO: Ay; prithee, sing.
-
- [Music.]
-
- SONG.
-
- Clown: Come away, come away, death,
- And in sad cypress let me be laid;
- Fly away, fly away breath;
- I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
- My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,
- O, prepare it!
- My part of death, no one so true
- Did share it.
- Not a flower, not a flower sweet 60
- On my black coffin let there be strown;
- Not a friend, not a friend greet
- My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown:
- A thousand thousand sighs to save,
- Lay me, O, where
- Sad true lover never find my grave,
- To weep there!
-
- DUKE ORSINO: There's for thy pains.
-
- Clown: No pains, sir: I take pleasure in singing, sir.
-
- DUKE ORSINO: I'll pay thy pleasure then. 70
-
- Clown: Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or
- another.
-
- DUKE ORSINO: Give me now leave to leave thee.
-
- Clown: Now, the melancholy god protect thee; and the
- tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffeta, for
- thy mind is a very opal. I would have men of such
- constancy put to sea, that their business might be
- every thing and their intent every where; for that's
- it that always makes a good voyage of nothing.
- Farewell. 80
-
- [Exit.]
-
- DUKE ORSINO: Let all the rest give place.
-
- [CURIO and Attendants retire.]
-
- Once more, Cesario,
- Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty:
- Tell her, my love, more noble than the world,
- Prizes not quantity of dirty lands;
- The parts that fortune hath bestow'd upon her,
- Tell her, I hold as giddily as fortune;
- But 'tis that miracle and queen of gems
- That nature pranks her in attracts my soul.
-
- VIOLA: But if she cannot love you, sir?
-
- DUKE ORSINO: I cannot be so answer'd.
-
- VIOLA: Sooth, but you must. 90
- Say that some lady, as perhaps there is,
- Hath for your love a great a pang of heart
- As you have for Olivia: you cannot love her;
- You tell her so; must she not then be answer'd?
-
- DUKE ORSINO: There is no woman's sides
- Can bide the beating of so strong a passion
- As love doth give my heart; no woman's heart
- So big, to hold so much; they lack retention
- Alas, their love may be call'd appetite,
- No motion of the liver, but the palate,
- That suffer surfeit, cloyment and revolt; 100
- But mine is all as hungry as the sea,
- And can digest as much: make no compare
- Between that love a woman can bear me
- And that I owe Olivia.
-
- VIOLA: Ay, but I know--
-
- DUKE ORSINO: What dost thou know?
-
- VIOLA: Too well what love women to men may owe:
- In faith, they are as true of heart as we.
- My father had a daughter loved a man,
- As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman,
- I should your lordship.
-
- DUKE ORSINO: And what's her history? 110
-
- VIOLA: A blank, my lord. She never told her love,
- But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,
- Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought,
- And with a green and yellow melancholy
- She sat like patience on a monument,
- Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?
- We men may say more, swear more: but indeed
- Our shows are more than will; for still we prove
- Much in our vows, but little in our love.
-
- DUKE ORSINO: But died thy sister of her love, my boy? 120
-
- VIOLA: I am all the daughters of my father's house,
- And all the brothers too: and yet I know not.
- Sir, shall I to this lady?
-
- DUKE ORSINO: Ay, that's the theme.
- To her in haste; give her this jewel; say,
- My love can give no place, bide no denay.
-
- [Exeunt.]
-