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Twelfth Night

Act II, Scene 4

 

DUKE ORSINO's palace.
 
[Enter DUKE ORSINO, VIOLA, CURIO, and others]
 
DUKE ORSINO
        ,             ,       ,          ,         ,
      Give me | some mu|sic; now | good mor|row friends.
            ,       ,  2    ,           ,          ,
      Now good | Cesa|rio, but | that piece | of song,
            ,             ,     ,         ,            ,
      That old | and an/tique song | we heard | last^night:
           ,          ,        ,         ,         ,
      Methought | it did | relieve | my pas|sion much,
        ,                 ,         ,     ,        ,
      More than | light^airs | and re|collec|ted terms
                   ,    ,          ,       ,      ___
      Of these / most brisk | and gid|dy-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 hi|ther boy:| if e|ver thou | shalt love,
                 ,     ,         ,      ,       ,
      In the / sweet pangs | of it | remem|ber me;
            ,       ,              ,   ,       ,
      For such | as I | am all / true lo|vers are,
          ,           ,             ,   ,         ,
      Unstaid | and skit|tish in / all mot|ions else,
        ,    2       ,          ,       ,         ,
      Save in the | constant | image | of the | creature
            ,      ,       ,        2       ,           ,
      That is | belov|ed. How | dost thou like | this tune?
 
VIOLA
           ,        ,    ,      ,         ,
      It gives | a ve|ry e|cho to | the seat
              ,          ,
      Where Love | is throned.
 
DUKE ORSINO
                                ,           ,    ,
                              Thou dost | speak mas/terly:
           ,       ,         ,           2      ,           ,
      My life | upon | it, young | though thou art,| thine^eye
              ,        ,         ,        ,         ,
      Hath stayed | upon | some fa|vour that | it loves:
                 ,   ,
      Hath it / not boy?
 
VIOLA
                              x      ,         ,
                         A little,| by your | favor.
 
DUKE ORSINO
        ,             ,       x
      What kind | of wo|man is it?
 
VIOLA
                                          ,         ,      ->
                                     Of your | complex||ion.
 
DUKE ORSINO
       ,      2      ,            ,           ,          ,
      She | is not worth | thee then.| What years | in faith?
 
VIOLA
         ,      T    T    T    __    oo
      About | your years my | lord.|
 
DUKE ORSINO
           ,          x           ,          ,       ,
      Too old | by heaven:| let still | the wo|man take
          ,       ,         ,         ,        2    ,
      An el|der than | herself:| so wears | she to him,
           ,          ,      ,        ,           ,
      So sways | she lev|el in | her hus|band's heart:
           ,       ,      ,         ,           ,
      For boy,| howev|er we | do praise | ourselves,
           ,               ,   ,            ,  ,
      Our fan|cies are / more gid|dy and / unfirm,
              ,        ,    2      ,       ,          ,
      More* long|ing, wa|vering, soon|er lost | and worn,
            ,        ,
      Than wo|men's are.
 
VIOLA
                            ,          ,         ,
                        I think | it well | my lord.
 
DUKE ORSINO
            ,          ,         ,        ,         ,
      Then let | thy love | be youn|ger than | thyself,
          ,       ,        ,        ,          ,
      Or thy | affec|tion can|not hold | the bent;
           ,      ,        ,                ,     ,
      For wo|men are | as ro|ses, whose / fair flower
        2     ,          ,            ,          ,      ,
      Being once | displayed,| doth fall | that ve|ry hour.
 
VIOLA
           ,         ,       ,          ,         ,
      And so | they are:| alas,| that they | are so;
          ,    ,             ,      2    ,         ,
      To die,| even | when they | to perfec|tion grow.
 
[Re-enter CURIO and Clown]
 
DUKE ORSINO
         ,        ,          ,        ,           ,
      O fel|low come,| the song | we had | last night.
        ,          ,  2    ,       ,          ,
      Mark it | Cesa|rio, it | is old | and plain;
            ,         ,          ,        ,        ,
      The spin|sters and | the knit|ters in | the sun
                  ,    ,            ,              ,            ,
      And the / free maids | that weave | their thread | with bones
          ,         ,          ,       ,       ,
      Do use | to chant | it: it | is sil|ly sooth,
           ,         ,         ,     ,          ,
      And dal|lies with | the in|nocence | of love,
        ,         T   T
      Like the | old age.
 
CLOWN
                           T         ,      ,
                          Are | you rea|dy sir?
 
DUKE ORSINO
           ,         ,
      Aye pri|thee sing.  \\
 
[Music]
 
CLOWN
        ,           ,          ___    oo
      Come away,| come away,| death,|
              ,             ,            ,    oo
      And in sad | cypress let | me be laid;|
       ,          ,           __     oo
      Fly away,| fly away | breath;|
             ,            ,            ,    oo
      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.
               ,              ,      ___    oo
      Not a flower,| not a flower | sweet |
              ,             ,                ,     oo
      On my black | coffin let | there be strown;|
               ,              ,      ___    oo
      Not a friend,| not a friend | greet |
                 ,                ,                 ,     oo
      My poor corpse,| where my bones | shall be thrown:|
          ,              ,               ,             ,
      A thousand | thousand sighs | to save, lay | me oh where
            ,          ,            ,              ,
      Sad true lov|er 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]
                                             ,       ,  2  ->
                                      Once^more,| Cesa|rio,
       ,        2     ,      ,   ,             ,
      Get | thee to yond | same sov/ereign | cruelty:
        ,             ,          ,       ,          ,
      Tell her | my love,| more no|ble than | the world,
       ,             ,     ,       ,       ,
      Prizes | not quan|tity | of dir|ty lands;
            ,           ,         ,         ,       ,         ->
      The parts | that for|tune hath | bestowed | upon || her,
        ,        2    ,        ,     ,       ,        ->
      Tell || her I hold | as gid|dily | as for||tune;
       ,      ,          ,   2          ,          ,
      But | 'tis that | miracle | and queen | of gems
            ,         ,          ,        ,          ,
      That na|ture pranks | her in | attracts | my soul.
 
VIOLA
           ,        ,        ,         ,    oo
      But if | she can|not love | you sir?|
 
DUKE ORSINO
         ,       ,       ,
      I can|not be | so an|swered.
 
VIOLA
                                    ,        2      ,
                                  Sooth | but you must.
       ,               ,      ,        ,           ,
      Say that | some la|dy, as | perhaps | there is,
        ,               ,         ,         ,         ,
      Hath for | your love | as great | a pang | of heart
          ,      ,     2   , 2       2    ,      ,
      As you | have for Ol|ivia:| you cannot | love her;
            ,         ,     ,         ,      2      ,
      You tell | her so;| must she | not then be | answered?
 
DUKE ORSINO
             ,       ,         ,
      There is | no wo|man's sides  (pickup)
            ,          ,     2    ,      ,        ,
      Can bide | the beat|ing of so | strong a | passion
           ,           ,         ,         ,         ,
      As love | doth give | my heart;| no wo|man's heart
          ,         ,         ,           ,       ,        o
      So big,| to hold | so much;| they lack | reten|tion.   ????
         ,           ,                ,    ,     ,
      Alas,| their love | may be / called ap|petite,
          ,       ,         x      ,         ,
      No mo|tion of | the liver,| but the | palate,
            ,       ,          ,         ,        ,
      That suf|fer sur|feit, cloy|ment, and | revolt;
            ,        ,        ,       ,        ,
      But mine | is all | as hun|gry as | the sea,
           ,        ,         ,          ,        ,
      And can | digest | as much:| make no | compare
           ,           ,       ,             ,   ,
      Between | that love | a wo|man can / bear me
            ,       ,      ,  2
      And that | I owe | Oli|via.
 
VIOLA
                                  ,       2    ,
                                 Aye,| but I know.
 
DUKE ORSINO
             ,           ,
      What dost | thou know? (picked up)
 
VIOLA
            ,           ,     ,          ,         ,
      Too well | what love | women | to men | may owe:
           ,           ,         ,         ,         ,
      In faith | they are | as true | of heart | as we.
          ,       ,        ,         ,        ,
      My fa|ther had | a daugh|ter loved | a man,
       ,   2         ,       ,          ,      ,
      As it might | be per|haps, were | I a | woman
           ,            ,       2
      I should | your lord|ship.
 
DUKE ORSINO
                                      ,           ,     ,
                                And what's | her his|tory?
 
VIOLA
          ,          ,         ,       ,          ,
      A blank | my lord:| She nev|er told | her love,
           ,         ,          ,        ,      2     ,
      But let | conceal|ment, like | a worm | in the bud,
        ,            ,        ,           ,           ,
      Feed on | her da|mask cheek:| she pined | in thought,
       ,      2      ,          ,        ,     ,
      And with a | green and | yellow | melan|choly
           ,          ,         ,      ,     ,
      She sat | like pa|tience on | a mon|ument,
       ,             ,          ,           ,        ,
      Smiling | at grief.| Was not | this love | indeed?
          ,         ,      T     T     T       2    ,
      We men | may say | more, swear more:| but indeed
            ,           ,           ,          ,          ,
      Our shows | are more | than will;| for still | we prove
        ,             ,         ,       ,         ,
      Much in | our vows,| but lit|tle in | our love.
 
DUKE ORSINO
            ,         ,       ,         ,        ,
      But died | thy sis|ter of | her love | my boy?
 
VIOLA
      ,       ,          ,           2    ,          ,
      I am | all the | daughters | of my fa|ther's house,
           ,         ,         ,         ,     2      ,
      And all | the bro|thers too:| and yet | I know not.
       ,           ,   2        ,
      Sir, shall | I to this | lady?
 
DUKE ORSINO
                                       ,            ,
                                 Aye that's | the theme,
       ,            ,       ,              ,       ,
      To her | in haste;| give her | this jew|el; say,
           ,          ,         ,           ,      ,
      My love | can give | no place,| bide no | denay.
 
[Exeunt]

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