The Letters of Katherine Mansfield: Volume II
April 7, 1920
April 7, 1920
I feel I was too undisciplined about my story and Constable. I leave it to you. You're my cricket. If you agree to what they say—why then, all's well (and I Do want the money).
Our queer correspondences again. I have been steeped in Shakespeare these last days with a note book—looking up every word, finding what are inkles and caddises… I nearly know the sheep shearing scene from A Winter's Tale by heart. It's the most bewitching scene—but that's one of my favourite plays. If I am strictly truthful I know nearly all of it almost by heart. And I began reading the songs in Twelfth Night in bed this morning early—
Mark it Cesario, it is old and plain;
The spinsters and the knitters in the sun
And the free maids that weave their thread with bones
Do use to chant it: it is silly sooth,
And dallies with the innocence of love,
Like the old age…
Clo: Are you ready, sir?
Duke: Ay, prithee, sing. (Music.
Clo: Come away, come away, death, etc.
Oh, how that does all ravish me. I think I could listen to that for a small eternity.