ACT 2
[Enter DUKE ORSINO, VIOLA, CURIO, and others]
DUKE ORSINO
Give me some music. Now, good morrow, friends.
Play me some music. Now, good morning, friends.
Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song,
And now, Cesario, about that song
That old and antique song we heard last night:
We heard last night, that age-old rustic song;
Methought it did relieve my passion much,
I found that it relieved my aching heart
More than light airs and recollected terms
Much more than those repetitive plain tunes
Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times:
That seem to be the fashion of the times.
Come, but one verse.
Come on, just play a single verse for me.
CURIO
He is not here, so please your lordship that should sing it.
My lord, I’m sorry, but the singer's not here.
DUKE ORSINO
Who was it?
Who was it?
CURIO
Feste, the jester, my lord; a fool that the lady
That jester Feste, sir, the fool who made
Olivia's father took much delight in. He is about the house.
Lady Olivia’s father laugh. He's somewhere here.
DUKE ORSINO
Seek him out, and play the tune the while.
Go find him; in the meantime, play the tune.
[Exit CURIO. Music plays]
Come hither, boy: if ever thou shalt love,
Come over here, boy. If you find true love,
In the sweet pangs of it remember me;
In its enchanting anguish, think of me,
For such as I am all true lovers are,
For as I am now, all true lovers are,
Unstaid and skittish in all motions else,
Impulsive, unpredictable and skittish
Save in the constant image of the creature
At everything except the image of
That is beloved. How dost thou like this tune?
The one they truly love. D’you like this tune?
VIOLA
It gives a very echo to the seat
It gives a true reflection of the feeling
Where Love is throned.
Of perfect love.
DUKE ORSINO
Thou dost speak masterly:
You’ve called that perfectly.
My life upon't, young though thou art, thine eye
I bet my life, despite your age, your eyes
Hath stayed upon some favour that it loves:
Have spotted someone that you really love.
Hath it not, boy?
Is that not true?
VIOLA
A little, by your favour.
A bit, and thanks to you.
DUKE ORSINO
What kind of woman is't?
What type of woman, then?
VIOLA
Of your complexion.
Of your complexion.
DUKE ORSINO
She is not worth thee, then. What years, i' faith?
Then she’s not good enough for you! How old?
VIOLA
About your years, my lord.
About as old as you, my lord.
DUKE ORSINO
Too old by heaven: let still the woman take
That’s far too old, but women ought to marry
An elder than herself: so wears she to him,
An older man; she can adapt to him,
So sways she level in her husband's heart:
And then retain her husband’s loving heart.
For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,
Because, although we brag about ourselves,
Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,
Us men are frivolous with our affections;
More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn,
We’re overwhelmed with love that doesn’t last,
Than women's are.
Unlike the love of women.
VIOLA
I think it well, my lord.
Yes, you’re right.
DUKE ORSINO
Then let thy love be younger than thyself,
Then let the one you love be younger than you
Or thy affection cannot hold the bent;
Or your affection will not stay the course.
For women are as roses, whose fair flower
For women are like roses whose sweet flower
Being once displayed, doth fall that very hour.
They show just once; it’s gone within the hour.
VIOLA
And so they are: alas, that they are so;
Ain’t that the truth! How sad that is the way
To die, even when they to perfection grow!
That once they’ve bloomed, perfection doesn’t stay.
[Re-enter CURIO and Clown]
DUKE ORSINO
O, fellow, come, the song we had last night.
Good fellow, sing the song you sang last night.
Mark it, Cesario, it is old and plain;
Check this, Cesario. It’s old and simple;
The spinsters and the knitters in the sun
The knitters spinning wool out in the sun
And the free maids that weave their thread with bones
And weavers using bobbins made of bone
Do use to chant it: it is silly sooth,
Sing it aloud. It tells the simple truth
And dallies with the innocence of love,
About the simple innocence of love
Like the old age.
In former times.
CLOWN
Are you ready, sir?
Are you ready, sir?
DUKE ORSINO
Ay; prithee, sing.
Yes. Please, sing.
[Music]
CLOWN
[Sings song]
Come away, come away, death,
Take me now, take me now death,
And in sad cypress let me be laid;
In a coffin of cypress wood, lay me to sleep.
Fly away, fly away breath;
Go away, go away, breath,
I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
I died when that beautiful girl made me weep.
My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,
My white burial gown, with branches of yew,
O, prepare it!
Oh, prepare it!
My part of death, no one so true
Nobody so honest, with death—it is true—
Did share it.
Did share it.
Not a flower, not a flower sweet
Not a flower, not a flower sweet,
On my black coffin let there be strown;
Upon my black coffin let anyone throw,
Not a friend, not a friend greet
Not a friend, not a friend greet
My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown:
My poor corpse where my bones will all go.
A thousand thousand sighs to save,
This way a thousand sighs we’ll save,
Lay me, O, where
So lay me where
Sad true lover never find my grave,
My sad true lover can’t find my grave
To weep there!
to weep for me there.
DUKE ORSINO
There's for thy pains.
That’s for your trouble.
CLOWN
No pains, sir: I take pleasure in singing, sir.
No trouble, sir. I take great pleasure singing.
DUKE ORSINO
I'll pay thy pleasure then.
I’ll pay you for your pleasure, then.
CLOWN
Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or another.
Really, no need. You’ll pay it soon enough.
DUKE ORSINO
Give me now leave to leave thee.
Please leave me now to be alone.
CLOWN
Now, the melancholy god protect thee; and the
Now Saturn, God of sadness, please protect you,
tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffeta,
and may your tailor’s jacket change its hue,
for thy mind is a very opal. I would have men
just like your mind, like opal. I’d have men
of such constancy put to sea, that their business might be
like that put out to sea so that their business
every thing and their intent every where; for that's
was all around them and they then could drift,
it that always makes a good voyage of nothing. Farewell.
for that’s the way to make a trip from nothing. Goodbye.
[Exit]
DUKE ORSINO
Let all the rest give place.
The rest of you can leave.
[CURIO and Attendants retire]
Once more, Cesario,
Once more, Cesario,
Get thee to yond same sovereign cruelty:
Go see my queen of hearts, Olivia,
Tell her, my love, more noble than the world,
And tell her that my love, the best there is,
Prizes not quantity of dirty lands;
Is not in need of winning any land.
The parts that fortune hath bestowed upon her,
The land, and things that she’s inherited,
Tell her, I hold as giddily as fortune;
Tell her I have no interest in at all.
But 'tis that miracle and queen of gems
But it’s that she’s miraculously gorgeous,
That nature pranks her in attracts my soul.
Endowed with nature’s gifts, that makes me want her.
VIOLA
But if she cannot love you, sir?
But if she cannot love you, sir?
DUKE ORSINO
I cannot be so answered.
That cannot be the answer.
VIOLA
Sooth, but you must.
But it must be.
Say that some lady, as perhaps there is,
Imagine that you’re told about a lady
Hath for your love a great a pang of heart
Who has an equal, overwhelming love,
As you have for Olivia: you cannot love her;
As you have for Olivia. You can’t love her;
You tell her so; must she not then be answered?
You tell her that. Shouldn’t she just accept it?
DUKE ORSINO
There is no woman's sides
There is no woman able
Can bide the beating of so strong a passion
To tolerate the pain of so much passion
As love doth give my heart; no woman's heart
That beats within my heart; no woman’s heart
So big, to hold so much; they lack retention
Can hold as much as mine; they can’t retain it.
Alas, their love may be called appetite,
Regrettably, their love is more like hunger,
No motion of the liver, but the palate,
And not a deep emotion, but desire
That suffer surfeit, cloyment and revolt;
That can be overfed to make them sick.
But mine is all as hungry as the sea,
But my love is unbounding, like the ocean,
And can digest as much: make no compare
And can consume as much. Do not compare
Between that love a woman can bear me
The love a woman might declare for me
And that I owe Olivia.
As my love for Olivia.
VIOLA
Ay, but I know--
Yes, but I know…
DUKE ORSINO
What dost thou know?
What do you know?
VIOLA
Too well what love women to men may owe:
I know too well how women love their man.
In faith, they are as true of heart as we.
In truth, they love the same as you or I.
My father had a daughter loved a man,
My father’s daughter loved a man, and maybe,
As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman,
If I’d have been a woman, then perhaps,
I should your lordship.
I might have loved you that much.
DUKE ORSINO
And what's her history?
Then what happened?
VIOLA
A blank, my lord. She never told her love,
Then nothing happened, for she never told him,
But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,
But hid it, like a worm hides in a rose bud
Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought,
And eats away at it. She pined for him
And with a green and yellow melancholy
With melancholic, love-sick jealously,
She sat like patience on a monument,
And endlessly sat on a monument,
Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?
Smiling in grief. So, is that not true love?
We men may say more, swear more: but indeed
Us men may talk, declaring our true love more,
Our shows are more than will; for still we prove
Yet, we’re more talk than action, demonstrating
Much in our vows, but little in our love.
Few acts of love whilst we’re off remonstrating.
DUKE ORSINO
But died thy sister of her love, my boy?
But did your sister die from love, my boy?
VIOLA
I am all the daughters of my father's house,
I’m every daughter that my father raised
And all the brothers too: and yet I know not.
And all the brothers too, but I can’t answer.
Sir, shall I to this lady?
Shall I deliver this to her?
DUKE ORSINO
Ay, that's the theme.
Yes, do.
To her in haste; give her this jewel; say,
And get there quick. Give her this jewel. Say
My love can give no place, bide no denay.
She can’t resist; my love won’t go away.
[Exeunt]
