SCENE IV. DUKE ORSINO's palace. Twelfth Night  Shakespeare homepage  |  Twelfth Night  | Act 2, Scene 4 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene  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? 

 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? 

 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 

 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. 

 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? 

 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 

 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. 

 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. 



 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. 

 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; 

 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? 

 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? 

 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. 



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