Twelfth Night or What You Will1996

Orsino:
Make no compare Between that love a woman can bear me And that I owe Olivia.

Cesario:
Ay, but I know...

Cesario:
What dost thou know?

Cesario:
Too well what love women to men may owe. In faith, they are as true of heart as we. My father had a daughter lov'd a man As it might be perhaps, were I a woman, I should your lordship.

Orsino:
And what's her history?

Cesario:
A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud, Feed on her damask cheek. She pin'd in thought; And, with a green and yellow melancholy, She sat like Patience on a monument, Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed? We men may say more, swear more; but indeed Our shows are more than will; for still we prove Much in our vows but little in our love.

Orsino:
But died thy sister of her love, my boy?

Cesario:
I am all the daughters of my father's house, And all the brothers too-and yet I know not.