[To the Musicians] Give me some music. [To the Courtiers] Now good morrow, friends;

2.4.2885Now, good Cesario--but that piece of song,

2.4.3886That old and antique song we heard last night;

2.4.4887Methought it did relieve my passion much,

2.4.5888More than light airs and recollected terms

2.4.6889Of these most brisk and giddy-pacèd times.

2.4.7890Come, but one verse.

He is not here, so please your lordship, that

2.4.9892should sing it.

Who was it?

Feste the jester, my lord, a fool that the Lady 895Olivia's father took much delight in. He is about the 896house.

Seek him out, [To the Musicians] and play the tune the while.

2.4.13899Come hither, boy. If ever thou shalt love,

2.4.14900In the sweet pangs of it, remember me.

2.4.15901For such as I am, all true lovers are:

2.4.16902Unstaid and skittish in all motions else,

2.4.17903Save in the constant image of the creature

2.4.18904That is beloved. How dost thou like this tune?

It gives a very echo to the seat

2.4.20906Where love is throned.

Where love is throned. Thou dost speak masterly;

2.4.21908My life upon't, young though thou art, thine eye

2.4.22909Hath stayed upon some favor that it loves.

2.4.23910Hath it not, boy?

Hath it not, boy? A little, by your favor.

What kind of woman is't?

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

2.4.28917An elder than her self; so wears she to him,

2.4.29918So sways she level in her husband's heart.

2.4.30919For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,

2.4.31920Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,

2.4.32921More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn,

2.4.33922Than women's are.

Than women's are. I think it well, my lord.

Then let thy love be younger than thyself,

2.4.35925Or thy affection cannot hold the bent;

2.4.36926For women are as roses, whose fair flower

2.4.37927Being once displayed, doth fall that very hour.

And so they are. Alas, that they are so:

2.4.39929To die, even when they to perfection grow.

Oh, fellow, come, the song we had last night.

2.4.41932Mark it, Cesario, it is old and plain;

2.4.42933The spinsters and the knitters in the sun,

2.4.43934And the free maids that weave their thread with bones,

2.4.44935Do use to chant it. It is silly sooth,

2.4.45936And dallies with the innocence of love,

2.4.46937Like the old age.

Are you ready, sir?

Ay, prithee sing. Music.

[Giving money] There's for thy pains.

No pains, sir; I take pleasure in singing, sir.

I'll pay thy pleasure then.

Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or 957another.

Give me now leave to leave thee.

Now the melancholy god protect thee, and the 960tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffeta, for thy 961mind is a very opal. I would have men of such 962constancy put to sea, that their business might be everything, 963and their intent everywhere; for that's it that always 964makes a good voyage of nothing. Farewell.

Let all the rest give place.

Let all the rest give place. Once more, Cesario,

2.4.72966Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty.

2.4.73967Tell her my love, more noble than the world,

2.4.74968Prizes not quantity of dirty lands;

2.4.75969The parts that Fortune hath bestowed upon her,

2.4.76970Tell her I hold as giddily as Fortune;

2.4.77971But 'tis that miracle and queen of gems

2.4.78972That Nature pranks her in, attracts my soul.

But if she cannot love you, sir?

I cannot be so answered.

I cannot be so answered. Sooth, but you must.

2.4.81976Say that some lady, as perhaps there is,

2.4.82977Hath for your love as great a pang of heart

2.4.83978As you have for Olivia. You cannot love her.

2.4.84979You tell her so. Must she not then be answered?

There is no woman's sides

2.4.86981Can bide the beating of so strong a passion

2.4.87982As love doth give my heart; no woman's heart

2.4.88983So big, to hold so much. They lack retention.

2.4.89984Alas, their love may be called appetite,

2.4.90985No motion of the liver, but the palate,

2.4.91986That suffers surfeit, cloyment, and revolt;

2.4.92987But mine is all as hungry as the sea,

2.4.93988And can digest as much. Make no compare

2.4.94989Between that love a woman can bear me,

2.4.95990And that I owe Olivia.

And that I owe Olivia. Ay, but I know--

What dost thou know?

Too well what love women to men may owe.

2.4.98994In faith, they are as true of heart as we.

2.4.99995My father had a daughter loved a man

2.4.100996As it might be perhaps, were I a woman,

2.4.101997I should your lordship.

I should your lordship. And what's her history?

A blank, my lord. She never told her love,

2.4.1031000But let concealment like a worm i'th'bud

2.4.1041001Feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought,

2.4.1051002And with a green and yellow melancholy

2.4.1061003She sat like Patience on a monument,

2.4.1071004Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?

2.4.1081005We men may say more, swear more, but indeed

2.4.1091006Our shows are more than will: for still we prove

2.4.1101007Much in our vows, but little in our love.

But died thy sister of her love, my boy?

I am all the daughters of my father's house,

2.4.1131010And all the brothers too; and yet I know not--

2.4.1141011Sir, shall I to this lady?

Sir, shall I to this lady? Ay, that's the theme.

2.4.1151013To her in haste; [Giving a jewel] give her this jewel; say

2.4.1161014My love can give no place, bide no denay.