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Twelfth Night: Act 2, Scene 4

           Enter DUKE ORSINO, VIOLA, CURIO,
           and others.

      DUKE ORSINO
  1   Give me some music. Now, good morrow, friends.
  2   Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song,
  3   That old and antique song we heard last night:
  4   Methought it did relieve my passion much,
  5   More than light airs and recollected terms
  6   Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times:
  7   Come, but one verse.

      CURIO
  8   He is not here, so please your lordship that should
  9   sing it.

      DUKE ORSINO
 10   Who was it?

      CURIO
 11   Feste, the jester, my lord; a fool that the lady
 12   Olivia's father took much delight in. He is
 13   about the house.

      DUKE ORSINO
 14   Seek him out, and play the tune the while.

           [Exit CURIO.] Music plays.

 15   Come hither, boy: if ever thou shalt love,
 16   In the sweet pangs of it remember me;
 17   For such as I am all true lovers are,
 18   Unstaid and skittish in all motions else,
 19   Save in the constant image of the creature
 20   That is beloved. How dost thou like this tune?

      VIOLA
 21   It gives a very echo to the seat
 22   Where Love is throned.

      DUKE ORSINO
 22                                      Thou dost speak masterly:
 23   My life upon't, young though thou art, thine eye
 24   Hath stay'd upon some favour that it loves:
 25   Hath it not, boy?

      VIOLA
 25                               A little, by your favour.

      DUKE ORSINO
 26   What kind of woman is't?

      VIOLA
 26                                           Of your complexion.

      DUKE ORSINO
 27   She is not worth thee, then. What years, i' faith?

      VIOLA
 28   About your years, my lord.

      DUKE ORSINO
 29   Too old by heaven: let still the woman take
 30   An elder than herself: so wears she to him,
 31   So sways she level in her husband's heart:
 32   For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,
 33   Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,
 34   More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn,
 35   Than women's are.

      VIOLA
 35                                 I think it well, my lord.

      DUKE ORSINO
 36   Then let thy love be younger than thyself,
 37   Or thy affection cannot hold the bent;
 38   For women are as roses, whose fair flower
 39   Being once display'd, doth fall that very hour.

      VIOLA
 40   And so they are: alas, that they are so;
 41   To die, even when they to perfection grow!

           Enter CURIO and Clown.

      DUKE ORSINO
 42   O, fellow, come, the song we had last night.
 43   Mark it, Cesario, it is old and plain;
 44   The spinsters and the knitters in the sun
 45   And the free maids that weave their thread with bones
 46   Do use to chant it: it is silly sooth,
 47   And dallies with the innocence of love,
 48   Like the old age.

      Clown
 49   Are you ready, sir?

      DUKE ORSINO
 50   Ay; prithee, sing.

           Music.

           THE SONG

      Clown
 51        Come away, come away, death,
 52        And in sad cypress let me be laid;
 53      Fly away, fly away breath;
 54        I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
 55      My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,
 56             O, prepare it!
 57      My part of death, no one so true
 58             Did share it.

 59      Not a flower, not a flower sweet
 60        On my black coffin let there be strown;
 61      Not a friend, not a friend greet
 62        My poor corpse, where my bones
             shall be thrown.
 63      A thousand thousand sighs to save,
 64             Lay me, O, where
 65      Sad true lover never find my grave,
 66             To weep there!

      DUKE ORSINO
 67   There's for thy pains.

      Clown
 68   No pains, sir: I take pleasure in singing, sir.

      DUKE ORSINO
 69   I'll pay thy pleasure then.

      Clown
 70   Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time
 71   or another.

      DUKE ORSINO
 72   Give me now leave to leave thee.

      Clown
 73   Now, the melancholy god protect thee; and the
 74   tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffeta, for
 75   thy mind is a very opal. I would have men of such
 76   constancy put to sea, that their business might be
 77   every thing and their intent every where; for that's
 78   it that always makes a good voyage of nothing. Farewell.

           Exit.

      DUKE ORSINO
 79   Let all the rest give place.

           [CURIO and Attendants leave the room.]

 79                                                 Once more, Cesario,
 80   Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty:
 81   Tell her, my love, more noble than the world,
 82   Prizes not quantity of dirty lands;
 83   The parts that fortune hath bestow'd upon her,
 84   Tell her, I hold as giddily as fortune;
 85   But 'tis that miracle and queen of gems
 86   That nature pranks her in attracts my soul.

      VIOLA
 87   But if she cannot love you, sir?

      DUKE ORSINO
 88   I cannot be so answer'd.

      VIOLA
 88                                           Sooth, but you must.
 89   Say that some lady, as perhaps there is,
 90   Hath for your love a great a pang of heart
 91   As you have for Olivia: you cannot love her;
 92   You tell her so; must she not then be answer'd?

      DUKE ORSINO
 93   There is no woman's sides
 94   Can bide the beating of so strong a passion
 95   As love doth give my heart; no woman's heart
 96   So big, to hold so much; they lack retention
 97   Alas, their love may be call'd appetite,
 98   No motion of the liver, but the palate,
 99   That suffer surfeit, cloyment and revolt;
100   But mine is all as hungry as the sea,
101   And can digest as much: make no compare
102   Between that love a woman can bear me
103   And that I owe Olivia.

      VIOLA
103                                     Ay, but I know —

      DUKE ORSINO
104   What dost thou know?

      VIOLA
105   Too well what love women to men may owe:
106   In faith, they are as true of heart as we.
107   My father had a daughter loved a man,
108   As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman,
109   I should your lordship.

      DUKE ORSINO
109                                         And what's her history?

      VIOLA
110   A blank, my lord. She never told her love,
111   But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,
112   Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought,
113   And with a green and yellow melancholy
114   She sat like patience on a monument,
115   Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?
116   We men may say more, swear more: but indeed
117   Our shows are more than will; for still we prove
118   Much in our vows, but little in our love.

      DUKE ORSINO
119   But died thy sister of her love, my boy?

      VIOLA
120   I am all the daughters of my father's house,
121   And all the brothers too: and yet I know not.
122   Sir, shall I to this lady?

      DUKE ORSINO
122                                           Ay, that's the theme.
123   To her in haste; give her this jewel; say,
124   My love can give no place, bide no denay.

           Exeunt.