Twelfth Night (Folio 1, 1623)
Peer Reviewed
262
Twelfe Night, or, What you will.¶that they come from my Neece, and that shee's in loue
¶with him.
¶An. O twill be admirable.
¶Mar. Sport royall I warrant you: I know my Phy-
¶sicke will worke with him, I will plant you two, and let
865the Foole make a third, where he shall finde the Letter:
¶dreame on the euent: Farewell.
Exit
870To. She's a beagle true bred, and one that adores me:
¶what o'that?
¶An. I was ador'd once too.
¶more money.
875An. If I cannot recouer your Neece, I am a foule way
¶out.
¶end, call me Cut.
¶to go to bed now: Come knight, come knight.
Exeunt
¶
Scena Quarta.
¶
Enter Duke, Viola, Curio, and others.
¶More then light ayres, and recollected termes
890Come, but one verse.
¶Du. Who was it?
895Oliuiaes Father tooke much delight in. He is about the
¶house.
¶Du. Seeke him out, and play the tune the while.
¶
Musicke playes.
¶Come hither Boy, if euer thou shalt loue
900In the sweet pangs of it, remember me:
¶For such as I am, all true Louers are,
¶Saue in the constant image of the creature
¶That is belou'd. How dost thou like this tune?
¶Where loue is thron'd.
¶My life vpon't, yong though thou art, thine eye
910Hath it not boy?
¶Vio. A little, by your fauour.
¶Vio. Of your complection.
¶Du. She is not worth thee then. What yeares ifaith?
915Vio. About your yeeres my Lord.
920Our fancies are more giddie and vnfirme,
¶Then womens are.
¶Vio. I thinke it well my Lord.
925Or thy affection cannot hold the bent:
¶Being once displaid, doth fall that verie howre.
¶To die, euen when they to perfection grow.
930
Enter Curio & Clowne.
¶Marke it Cesario, it is old and plaine;
¶The Spinsters and the Knitters in the Sun,
¶And the free maides that weaue their thred with bones,
¶And dallies with the innocence of loue,
¶Like the old age.
¶Clo. Are you ready Sir?
940
The Song.
¶
Come away, come away death,
¶Du. There's for thy paines.
¶another.
¶Du. Giue me now leaue, to leaue thee.
¶Clo. Now the melancholly God protect thee, and the
960Tailor make thy doublet of changeable Taffata, for thy
¶and their intent euerie where, for that's it, that alwayes
¶makes a good voyage of nothing. Farewell.
Exit
¶Tell her my loue, more noble then the world
¶Prizes not quantitie of dirtie lands,
¶The parts that fortune hath bestow'd vpon her:
970Tell her I hold as giddily as Fortune:
¶But 'tis that miracle, and Queene of Iems
¶That nature prankes her in, attracts my soule.
¶Say that some Lady, as perhappes there is,
¶Hath for your loue as great a pang of heart
¶As you haue for Oliuia: you cannot loue her:
Can
Twelfe Night, or, What you will.
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