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How now! What news from her? |
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What's going on? What have you heard from her? |
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| | VALENTINE |
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So please my lord, I might not be admitted, |
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But from her handmaid do return this answer: |
| 25 |
The element itself, till seven years' heat, |
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Shall not behold her face at ample view, |
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But like a cloistress, she will veiled walk |
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And water once a day her chamber round |
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With eye-offending brine—all this to season |
| 30 |
A brother's dead love, which she would keep fresh |
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And lasting in her sad remembrance. |
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| VALENTINE |
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I'm sorry, but they wouldn't let me in. But I got the following answer from her handmaid. Olivia's not going to show her face for the next seven years—not even to the sky itself. Instead, she'll go around veiled like a nun, and once a day she'll water her room with tears. She's doing this out of love for her dead brother, whom she wants to keep fresh in her memory forever. |
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| | ORSINO |
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O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame |
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To pay this debt of love but to a brother, |
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How will she love, when the rich golden shaft |
| 35 |
Hath killed the flock of all affections else |
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That live in her, when liver, brain, and heart, |
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These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and filled |
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Her sweet perfections with one self king! |
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Away before me to sweet beds of flowers. |
| 40 |
Love thoughts lie rich when canopied with bowers. |
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| ORSINO |
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Oh, if she loves her brother this much, think how she'll love me when I finally win her over and make her forget all her other attachments! Her mind and heart will be ruled by one man alone—me! Take me to the garden. I need a beautiful place to sit and think about love. |
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