Page 555 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

So sways she level in her husband’s heart:
For boy, however we do praise ourselves,
Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,
More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn

Than women’s are.

VIOLA
I think it well, my lord. [35]

DUKE
Then let thy love be younger than thyself,
Or thy affection cannot hold the bent:
For women are as roses, whose fair flower

Being once display’d, doth fall that very hour.

VIOLA
And so they are: alas, that they are so: [40]
To die, even when they to perfection grow!

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 [45]
Do use to chant it: it is silly sooth,
And dallies with the innocence of love,

Like the old age.

CLOWN
Are you ready, sir?

DUKE
Ay, prithee sing. [50]
Music.