Twelfth Night
Act I, Scene 4
A room in Duke Orsino’s palace.
- Enter Valentine, and Viola in man’s attire.
Valentine
1 - 3- If the Duke continue these favors towards you, Cesario, you
- are like to be much advanc’d; he hath known you but three
- days, and already you are no stranger.
Viola
4 - 6- You either fear his humor or my negligence, that you call in
- question the continuance of his love. Is he inconstant, sir,
- in his favors?
Valentine
7- No, believe me.
- Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants.
Viola
8- I thank you. Here comes the Count.
Orsino
9- Who saw Cesario, ho?
Viola
10- On your attendance, my lord, here.
Orsino
11 - 17- Stand you awhile aloof. Cesario,
- Thou know’st no less but all. I have unclasp’d
- To thee the book even of my secret soul.
- Therefore, good youth, address thy gait unto her,
- Be not denied access, stand at her doors,
- And tell them, there thy fixed foot shall grow
- Till thou have audience.
Viola
18 - 20- Sure, my noble lord,
- If she be so abandon’d to her sorrow
- As it is spoke, she never will admit me.
Orsino
21 - 22- Be clamorous, and leap all civil bounds,
- Rather than make unprofited return.
Viola
23- Say I do speak with her, my lord, what then?
Orsino
24 - 28- O then, unfold the passion of my love,
- Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith;
- It shall become thee well to act my woes:
- She will attend it better in thy youth
- Than in a nuntio’s of more grave aspect.
Viola
29- I think not so, my lord.
Orsino
30 - 41- Dear lad, believe it;
- For they shall yet belie thy happy years,
- That say thou art a man. Diana’s lip
- Is not more smooth and rubious; thy small pipe
- Is as the maiden’s organ, shrill and sound,
- And all is semblative a woman’s part.
- I know thy constellation is right apt
- For this affair. Some four or five attend him—
- All, if you will; for I myself am best
- When least in company. Prosper well in this,
- And thou shalt live as freely as thy lord,
- To call his fortunes thine.
Viola
42 - 45- I’ll do my best
- To woo your lady.
- Aside.
- Yet a barful strife!
- Whoe’er I woo, myself would be his wife.
- Exeunt.