ACT V.
1. SCENE I. The Street before OLIVIA's House.
(continued)
OLIVIA.
If it be aught to the old tune, my lord,
It is as fat and fulsome to mine ear
As howling after music.
DUKE.
Still so cruel?
OLIVIA.
Still so constant, lord.
DUKE.
What! to perverseness? you uncivil lady,
To whose ingrate and unauspicious altars
My soul the faithfull'st offerings hath breathed out
That e'er devotion tender'd! What shall I do?
OLIVIA.
Even what it please my lord, that shall become him.
DUKE.
Why should I not, had I the heart to do it.
Like to the Egyptian thief, at point of death,
Kill what I love; a savage jealousy
That sometime savours nobly.--But hear me this:
Since you to non-regardance cast my faith,
And that I partly know the instrument
That screws me from my true place in your favour,
Live you the marble-breasted tyrant still;
But this your minion, whom I know you love,
And whom, by heaven I swear, I tender dearly,
Him will I tear out of that cruel eye
Where he sits crowned in his master's sprite.--
Come, boy, with me; my thoughts are ripe in mischief:
I'll sacrifice the lamb that I do love,
To spite a raven's heart within a dove.
[Going.]
VIOLA.
And I, most jocund, apt, and willingly,
To do you rest, a thousand deaths would die.
OLIVIA.
Where goes Cesario?
VIOLA.
After him I love
More than I love these eyes, more than my life,
More, by all mores, than e'er I shall love wife;
If I do feign, you witnesses above
Punish my life for tainting of my love!
OLIVIA.
Ah me, detested! how am I beguil'd!
VIOLA.
Who does beguile you? who does do you wrong?
OLIVIA.
Hast thou forgot thyself? Is it so long?--
Call forth the holy father.
[Exit an ATTENDANT.]
|