Tw. II, iv, 1.
Duke. Give me some music.—Now, good morrow, friends.
Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song,
That old and antique song, we heard last night;
Methought, it did relieve my passion much,
More than light airs, ...
Come; but one verse.
Curio. He is not here, so please your lordship, that should sing it.
Duke. Who was it?
Cur. Feste, the jester, my lord: ...
Duke. Seek him out, and play the tune the while.
L. 20.
[To Cesario]—How dost thou like this tune?
Viola. It gives a very echo to the seat
Where love is thron'd.
L. 43.