TwelfthNightViola.txt

Twelfth Night
by William Shakespeare
Act II, Scene 4 (p.151-152)
Collected and Introduced by Stefan Rudnicki
The Actor's Book of Classical Monologues
Created on Dec 9, 2022

Character in the Play
======================
Viola


Monologue
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Say that some lady, as perhaps there is,
Hath for your love as great a pang of heart
As you for Olivia: you cannot love her;
You tell her so; must she not then be answer'd?

I know too well what love women to men may owe:
In faith, they are as true as we.
My father had a daughter lov'd a man,
As it might be, perhaps were I a woman,
I should your lordship. And what's her history?
A blank, my lord. She never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,
Feed on her damask cheek: she pin'd in thought,
and with a green and yellow melancholy,
She sat like Patience on a moment,
Smiling at grief. Was this not love indeed?
We men may say more, swear more; but indeed
Our shows are more than will, for still we prove
Much in our vows, but little in our love.

Sir, shall I to this lady?