Enter ⌜Orsino,⌝ Viola, Curio, and others.ORSINO Give me some music. ⌜Music plays.⌝ Now, good morrow, friends.— Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song, That old and antique song we heard last night.5 Methought it did relieve my passion much, More than light airs and recollected terms Of these most brisk and giddy-pacèd times. Come, but one verse.CURIO He is not here, so please your Lordship, that10 should sing it.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.ORSINO 15 Seek him out ⌜Curio exits,⌝ and play the tune the while.Music plays. ⌜To Viola.⌝ 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,20 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.ORSINO 25 Thou dost speak masterly. My life upon ’t, young though thou art, thine eye Hath stayed upon some favor that it loves. Hath it not, boy?VIOLA A little, by your favor.
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ORSINO 30 What kind of woman is ’t?VIOLA Of your complexion.ORSINO She is not worth thee, then. What years, i’ faith?VIOLA About your years, my lord.ORSINO Too old, by heaven. Let still the woman take35 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,40 Than women’s are.VIOLA I think it well, my lord.ORSINO Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Or thy affection cannot hold the bent. For women are as roses, whose fair flower,45 Being once displayed, doth fall that very hour.VIOLA And so they are. Alas, that they are so, To die even when they to perfection grow!Enter Curio and ⌜Feste, the Fool.⌝ORSINO O, fellow, come, the song we had last night.— Mark it, Cesario. It is old and plain;50 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 love55 Like the old age.FOOL Are you ready, sir?ORSINO Ay, prithee, sing.Music.
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The Song.
⌜FOOL⌝ Come away, come away, death,
And in sad cypress let me be laid.
60 ⌜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
65 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.
70 A thousand thousand sighs to save,
Lay me, O, where
Sad true lover never find my grave
To weep there.ORSINO, ⌜giving money⌝ There’s for thy pains.FOOL 75No pains, sir. I take pleasure in singing, sir.ORSINO I’ll pay thy pleasure, then.FOOL Truly sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or another.ORSINO Give me now leave to leave thee.FOOL 80Now 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 everything and their intent everywhere, for that’s it85 that always makes a good voyage of nothing. Farewell.He exits.ORSINO Let all the rest give place.⌜All but Orsino and Viola exit.⌝ Once more, Cesario,
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Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty.90 Tell her my love, more noble than the world, Prizes not quantity of dirty lands. The parts that Fortune hath bestowed upon her, Tell her, I hold as giddily as Fortune. But ’tis that miracle and queen of gems95 That nature pranks her in attracts my soul.VIOLA But if she cannot love you, sir—ORSINO ⌜I⌝ cannot be so answered.VIOLA Sooth, but you must. Say that some lady, as perhaps there is,100 Hath for your love as great a pang of heart As you have for Olivia. You cannot love her; You tell her so. Must she not then be answered?ORSINO There is no woman’s sides Can bide the beating of so strong a passion105 As love doth give my heart; no woman’s heart So big, to hold so much; they lack retention. Alas, their love may be called appetite, No motion of the liver but the palate, That suffer surfeit, cloyment, and revolt;110 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—ORSINO 115What 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,120 I should your Lordship.ORSINO And what’s her history?
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VIOLA A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i’ th’ bud, Feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought,125 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 prove130 Much in our vows but little in our love.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?ORSINO 135 Ay, that’s the theme. To her in haste. Give her this jewel. Say My love can give no place, bide no denay.⌜He hands her a jewel and⌝ they exit.
Twelfth Night
