Quotes About Feste
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Feste. Are you ready, sir?
Orsino. Ay; prithee, sing.
[Music] 945
SONG.
Feste. Come away, come away, death,
And in sad cypress let me be laid;
Fly away, fly away breath;
I am slain by a fair cruel maid. 950
My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,
O, prepare it!
My part of death, no one so true
Did share it.
Not a flower, not a flower sweet 955
On my black coffin let there be strown;
Not a friend, not a friend greet
My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown:
A thousand thousand sighs to save,
Lay me, O, where 960
Sad true lover never find my grave,
To weep there!
Orsino. There's for thy pains.
Feste. No pains, sir: I take pleasure in singing, sir.
Orsino. I'll pay thy pleasure then. 965
Feste. Truly, sir, and pleasure will be paid, one time or another.
From Twelfth Night, Act II, Scene 4. ~ William Shakespeare
Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those that are fools, let them use their talents. ~ William Shakespeare
Some day I should like to run a competition to find out the unfunniest clown in Shkespeare. There's a lot of choice from that dreadful lancelot Gobbo to the superlatively unfunny Feste. Nobody can make me believe that even the groundlings laughed at them, unless, as I suspect, the dire lines were enlivened by rude gestures, ~ Michael Frederick Green
Olivia: What's a drunken man like, fool?
Feste: Like a drowned man, a fool, and a madman: one draught above heat makes him a fool; the second mads him; and a third drowns him. ~ William Shakespeare
