Are you ready, sir? Orsino. Ay; prithee, sing. [Music] 945…
““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.””
About This Quote
This interpretation was drafted with AI assistance. It is one reading of the quote, not the author's own explanation.
A character dramatizes death, mixing melancholy with theatrical flourish, highlighting the performative nature of grief.
In simple terms: Grief expressed through theatrical song.
Use art to process loss.
Themes
Mood
Type
When to use this quote
- stage performance
- funeral rites
- poetic lament
- creative writing
Key Concepts
Questions to Reflect On
- How does performance alter perception of sorrow?
- Can art heal or merely display pain?
May romanticize suffering.