SCENE IV. A Room in the Duke's Palace. Enter DUKE, VIOLA, CURIO, and others. Duke. Give me some musick:- Now, good morrow, friends:— Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song, Cur. He is not here, so please your lordship, that should sing it. Duke. Who was it? Cur. Feste, the jester, my lord; a fool, that the lady Olivia's father took much delight in: he is about the house. Duke. Seek him out, and play the tune the while. [Exit CURIO.-Musick. 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? Vio. It gives a very echo to the seat Where Love is thron'd. Duke. Thou dost speak masterly: My life upon't, young though thou art, thine eye Hath stay'd upon some favour that it loves; Hath it not, boy? 4 recollected] Studied, or perhaps oft repeated. S -favour] i. e. countenance. VOL. II. E Vio. Duke. What kind of woman is't? Vio. A little, by your favour. Of your complexion. Duke. She is not worth thee then. What years, i'faith? Vio. About your years, my lord. Duke. Too old, by heaven; Let still the woman take More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn, Vio. I think it well, my lord. Duke. Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Or thy affection cannot hold the bent: For women are as roses; whose fair flower, Re-enter CURIO, and Clown. Duke. O fellow, come, the song we had last night: Mark it, Cesario; it is old, and plain: The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids, that weave their thread with bones, Do use to chaunt it; it is silly sooth," And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age.9 6 7 Clo. Are you ready, sir? Duke. Ay; pr'ythee, sing. free] Is, perhaps, artless, free from art. 8 And dallies with the-] Plays or trifles. 9 [Musick. the old age.] The ages past, times of simplicity. WHAT YOU WILL. 39 SONG. CLO. Come away, come away, death, My part of death no one so true Not a flower, not a flower sweet, My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown : Sad true lover ne'er find my grave, Duke. There's for thy pains. Clo. No pains, sir; I take pleasure in singing, sir. Clo. Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or another. Duke. Give me now leave to leave thee. Clo. Now, the melancholy god protect thee; and the tailor make thy doublet of changeable taffata, 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 Clown. Duke. Let all the rest give place. colours. [Exeunt CURIO and Attendants. a very opal!] A precious stone of almost all Once more, Cesario, Get thee to yon' same sovereign cruelty: The parts that fortune hath bestow'd upon her, Vio. Can bide the beating of so strong a passion Vio. Ay, but I know, Duke. What dost thou know? Vio. Too well what love women to men may owe: In faith, they are as true of heart as we. Duke. And what's her history? 2 That nature pranks her in,] i. e. adorns. Vio. A blank, my lord: She never told her love, Smiling at grief. Was not this love, indeed? Duke. But died thy sister of her love, my boy? Vio. I am all the daughters of my father's house, And all the brothers too;-and yet I know not:Sir, shall I to this lady? Duke, [Exeunt. SCENE V. Olivia's Garden. Enter Sir TOBY Belch, Sir Andrew Ague-cheek, and FABIAN. Sir To. Come thy ways, signior Fabian. Fab. Nay, I'll come; if I lose a scruple of this sport, let me be boiled to death with melancholy. Sir. To. Would'st thou not be glad to have the niggardly rascally sheep-biter come by some notable shame? Fab. I would exult, man: you know, he brought me out of favour with my lady, about a bear-baiting here. Sir To. To anger him, we'll have the bear again; bide no denay.] Denay, is denial. |