Twelfth Night Mock Flashcards
First line
Give me your hand, sir
My duty madam and most humble service
What is your name?
Cesario is your servants name, fair princess
My servant sit’ ‘T was never a merry world since lowly feigning was called compliment. You’re servant to the Count Orsino, youth
And he is yours and his must needs be yours; your servants servant is your servant, madam
For him, I think not on him; for his thoughts, would they were blanks rather than filled with me!
Madam, I come to whet your gentle thoughts on his behalf
O! By your leave I pray you, i Bade you never speak of him again; but would you undertake another suit, I had rather hear you to solicit that than music from the spheres.
I pity you
That’s a degree to love
You’ll nothing, madam, to my lord by me?
Stay; I prithee, tell me what thou think’st of me
That you do think you are not what you are
If I think so, I think the same of you
Then you think right; I am not what I am
I would you were as I would have you be!
Dear lady-
Give me leave, beseech you, I did send after the last enchantment you did here, a ring in chase if you; so did I abuse myself, my servant and I fear me you; under your hard constitution i must sit, to force that on you in shameful cunning, which you knew none of yours what might you think?
Have you not set mine honour at the stake and baited it will all the unmuzzled thoughts that tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiving, enough is shown; a cypress, not a bosom, hides my heart. So, let me hear you speak.
No, not a grize, for ‘t is a vulgar proof that very oft we pity enemies
Why, then, methinks ‘t is time to smile again. O world! How apt the poor are to be proud. If one should be a prey, how much the better to fall before the lion than the wolf!
CLOCK STRIKES
The clock upbraids me with the waste of time. Be not afraid good youth is come to harvest your wife is like to reap a proper man there lies your way, due west
Would it be better, madam, than I am? I wish it might for now I am your fool
ASIDE
O! What a deal of scorn looks beautiful in the contempt and anger if his lip a murderous guilt shows itself more soon than love would seem hid, loves night is noon
VIOLA
Cesario, by the roses of the spring by maidhood, honour, truth and everything, I love thee so that maugre all thy pride nor wit nor reasons can my passion hide do not extort thy reasons from this clause, for that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause, but rather reason thus with reason fetter, love sought is good but given unsought is better
Will I m’y maters tears to you deplore
Yet come again, for thou perhaps mayst move, that heart which now abhors, to like his love
