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WorksheetsTwelfth Night, Act 2, Scene 2 Monologue - Viola
Total questions: 15
Worksheet time: 8mins
I left no ring with her:
my outside have not charm'd her!
what means this lady?
indeed, so much,
thou art a wickedness,
Fortune forbid
my outside have not charm'd her!
in starts distractedly.
for the proper-false
our frailty is the cause
She made good view of me; indeed, so much,
That sure methought her eyes had lost her tongue,
I am the man: if it be so, as 'tis,
our frailty is the cause
How will this fadge?
She loves me, sure;
my master loves her dearly;
And I, poor monster, fond as much on him;
thou must untangle this, not I;It is too hard a knot for me to untie!
I see, thou art a wickedness,
the cunning of her passion
Invites me in this churlish messenger.
None of my lord's ring!
As I am man,
My state is desperate for my master's love;
why, he sent her none.
the pregnant enemy does much.
What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe!
I am the man: if it be so, as 'tis,
Poor lady, she were better love a dream.
What will become of this?
And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me.
How easy is it for the proper-false
In women's waxen hearts to set their forms!
Disguise, I see, thou art a wickedness,
Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.
For she did speak in starts distractedly.
My state is desperate for my master's love;
my master loves her dearly;
How easy is it for the proper-false
And she, mistaken,
In women's waxen hearts to set their forms!
As I am woman,—now alas the day!—
It is too hard a knot
Alas, our frailty
thou art a wickedness,
seems to dote on me.
is the cause, not we!
have not charm'd her!
For such as we are made of
such we be.
As I am man
indeed, so much,
enemy does much.
How will this fadge?
my master loves her dearly
And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me
And I, poor monster, fond as much on him
As I am woman,.now alas the day!
What will become of this?
As I am man
She loves me
What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe!
My state is desperate for my master's love;
O time!
As I am woman,.now alas the day!
what means this lady?
What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe!
What thriftless sighs
shall poor Olivia breathe!
did speak
she were better love a dream.
such we be
O time! thou must untangle this, not I;
Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.
I left no ring with her
It is too hard a knot for me to untie!
I am the man: if it be so, as 'tis,
