Twelfth Night

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,	5
	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;	15
	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?
VIOLA	It gives a very echo to the seat	20
	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?	25
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.	30
DUKE ORSINO	Too old by heaven: let still the woman take
	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,	35
	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;	40
	For women are as roses, whose fair flower
	Being once display'd, doth fall that very hour.
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.	45
	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,	50
	Like the old age.
Clown	Are you ready, sir?
DUKE ORSINO	Ay; prithee, sing.
	Music

	SONG.	55
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,	60
	O, prepare it!
	My part of death, no one so true
	Did share it.
	Not a flower, not a flower sweet
	On my black coffin let there be strown;	65
	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,	70
	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.
Clown	Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or another.	75
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	80
	every thing and their intent every where; for that's
	it that always makes a good voyage of nothing. Farewell.
	Exit
DUKE ORSINO	Let all the rest give place.
	CURIO and Attendants retire
	Once more, Cesario,
	Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty:	85
	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	90
	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.
	Say that some lady, as perhaps there is,	95
	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	100
	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;	105
	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--	110
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,	115
	I should your lordship.
DUKE ORSINO	And what's her history?
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,	120
	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	125
	Much in our vows, but little in our love.
DUKE ORSINO	But died thy sister of her love, my boy?
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?	130
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