William Shakespeare: Twelfth Night

4. SCENE IV. A Room in the DUKE'S Palace.

[Enter DUKE, VIOLA, CURIO, and others.]

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.

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

Who was it?

Feste, the jester, my lord; a fool that the Lady Olivia's
father took much delight in: he is about the house.

Seek him out, and play the tune the while.

[Exit CURIO. Music.]

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 belov'd.--How dost thou like this tune?

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

Thou dost speak masterly:
My life upon't, young though thou art, thine eye
Hath stayed upon some favour that it loves;
Hath it not, boy?

A little, by your favour.

What kind of woman is't?

Of your complexion.

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

About your years, my lord.

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 won,
Than women's are.

This is page 30 of 80. [Mark this Page]
Mark any page to add this title to Your Bookshelf. (0 / 10 books on shelf)
Customize text appearance:
Color: A A A A A   Font: Aa Aa   Size: 1 2 3 4 5   Defaults
(c) 2003-2012 LiteraturePage.com and Michael Moncur. All rights reserved.
For information about public domain texts appearing here, read the copyright information and disclaimer.