Twelfth Night


The text of the play from No Fear Shakespeare

 

Scene synopses and character analysis


 

 

Questions

 

Thoughts on writing the essay

 

Answer the question simply and clearly.

Take a clear position and focus on answering it throughout the essay. No wavering, fudging, backtracking, or fence sitting.

 

Develop your argument.

Offer evidence, then explain how that evidence supports your argument.

 

State the theme

Explain how the play can be understood in terms of your reading of the play.

 

Length: 300-500ords

Scoring: PA rubric, 10 points for each domain


 

 

Sonnet 148

O me! what eyes hath Love put in my head,

Which have no correspondence with true sight;

Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled,

That censures falsely what they see aright?

If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote,

What means the world to say it is not so?

If it be not, then love doth well denote

Love's eye is not so true as all men's: no,

How can it? O! how can Love's eye be true,

That is so vexed with watching and with tears?

No marvel then, though I mistake my view;

The sun itself sees not, till heaven clears.

      O cunning Love! with tears thou keep'st me blind,

      Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should find.


 

Sonnet 149

Canst thou, O cruel, say I love thee not,
When I against myself with thee partake?
Do I not think on thee, when I forgot
Am of myself, all, tyrant, for thy sake?
Who hateth thee that I do call my friend?    (5)
On whom frown’st thou that I do fawn upon?
Nay, if thou lour’st on* me, do I not spend
Revenge upon myself with present moan?
What merit do I in myself respect,
That is so proud thy service to despise,     (10)
When all my best doth worship thy defect,
Commanded by the motion of thine eyes?
  But, love, hate on, for now I know thy mind;
  Those that can see thou lov’st, and I am blind.

 

*scowl at


 

 

 

 

"O Mistress Mine"

 

O Mistress mine, where are you roaming?

O, stay and hear; your true love's coming,

That can sing both high and low:

Trip no further, pretty sweeting;

Journeys end in lovers meeting,

Every wise man's son doth know.

What is love? 'Tis not hereafter;

Present mirth hath present laughter;

What's to come is still unsure:

In delay there lies not plenty;

Then, come kiss me, sweet and twenty,

Youth's a stuff will not endure.