Meet us on:
 
Entire Site
    Try our fun game

    Dueling book covers…may the best design win!

    Random Quote
    "The outcome of the war is in our hands; the outcome of words is in the council."
    More: War quotes
     

    Subscribe to Our Newsletter

    Follow us on Twitter

    Never miss a good book again! Follow Read Print on Twitter

    Act 2, Scene IV

    • Rate it:
    • Average Rating: 2.3 out of 5 based on 2 ratings
    • 5 Favorites on Read Print
    Launch Reading Mode Next Chapter
    Chapter 9
    Previous Chapter
    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.

    Exeunt
    Next Chapter
    Chapter 9
    Previous Chapter
    If you're writing a William Shakespeare essay and need some advice, post your William Shakespeare essay question on our Facebook page where fellow bookworms are always glad to help!

    Top 5 Authors

    Top 5 Books

    Book Status
    Finished
    Want to read
    Abandoned

    Are you sure you want to leave this group?