All's well that ends well.— John Heywood
Risky Twelfth Night Important quotations
All is well that ends well
Make me a willow cabin at your gate, And call upon my soul within the house;
Write loyal cantons of contemned love And sing them loud even in the dead of night.
Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought, And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief
What's to come is still unsure: In delay there lies no plenty;
Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty, Youth's a stuff will not endure.
Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, more longing, wavering, sooner lost and won, than women's are.
So full of shapes is fancy That it alone is high fantastical.
Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Or thy affection cannot hold the bent.
Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypres let me be laid;
Fly away, fly away, breath; I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
That strain again! It had a dying fall: O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour! Enough; no more: 'Tis not so sweet as it was before.
Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty.
O, spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou!
I have unclasp'd to thee the book even of my secret soul.
Let still woman take An elder than herself: so wears she to him, 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 to be lost and warn, Than women's are.
Women are as roses, whose fair flower, being once displayed, doth fall that very hour.
I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride, Nor wit nor reason 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 better.
Enough no more; Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
I am indeed not her fool, but her corrupter of words. (Act III, sc. I, 37-38)