Vio. O, that I ferv'd that lady, Cap. That were hard to compass; Vio. There is a fair behaviour in thee, Captain; Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute I'll be: When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not fee. [Exeunt. Vio. I thank thee; lead me on. Sir To. An Apartment in Olivia's House. WHAT a plague means my niece, to take the death of her brother thus? I am sure, care's an enemy to life. Mar. By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier a-nights; your niece, my lady, takes great exceptions to your ill hours. Sir To. Why, let her except, before excepted. Mar. Mar. Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modeft limits of order. Sir To. Confine? I'll confine myself no finer than I am; these clothes are good enough to drink in, and fo be these boots too; an they be not, let them hang themselves in their own straps. Mar. That quaffing and drinking will undo you; I heard my lady talk of it yesterday, and of a foolish Knight that you brought in one night here, to be her wooer. Sir To. Who, Sir Andrew Ague-cheek? Mar. Ay, he. Sir To. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria. Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats a year. Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats: he's a very fool and a prodigal. Sir To. Fie, that you'll say fo! he plays o'th' violdegambo, and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature. Mar. He hath, indeed, -almost natural; for besides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller; and but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among the prudent, he would quickly have the gift of a grave. Sir To. By this hand, they are scoundrels and fubtractors that say so of him. Who are they? Mar. They that add moreover, he's drunk nightly in your company. Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece: I'll drink to her as long as there's a passage in my throat, and drink in Illyria. He's a coward, and a coystril, that will not drink to my niece 'till his brains turn o'th' toe like a parish-top. What, wench? *Caftiliano Volto; for here comes Sir Andrew Ague-cheek. * Castiliano vulgo ;) We should read volto. In English, put on your Caftilian Countenance; that is, your grave, folemn Looks. N3 SCENE Sir And. S SCENE IV. Enter Sir Andrew. IR Toby Belch, how now, Sir Toby Belch? Sir And. Bless you, fair shrew. Mar. And you too, Sir. Sir To. Accost, Sir Andrew, accoft. Sir And. What's that? Sir To. My niece's chamber-maid. Sir And. Good mistress Accost, I defire better ae quaintance. Mar. My name is Mary, Sir. Sir And. Good mistress Mary Accoft, Sir To. You mistake, Knight: accost, is, front her, board her, woo her, affail her. Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake her in this company. Is that the meaning of accost? Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen. Sir To. An thou let her part fo, Sir Andrew, would thou might'st never draw fword again. Sir And. An you part so, mistress, I would I might never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think, you have fools in hand? Mar. Sir, I have not you by th' hand. Sir And. Marry, but you shall have, and here's my hand. Mar. Now, Sir, thought is free: I pray you, bring your hand to th' buttery-bar, and let it drink. Sir And. Wherefore, sweet heart? what's your metaphor? Mar. It's dry, Sir. Sir And. Why, I think fo: I am not fuch an ass, but I can keep my hand dry. But what's your jest? Mar. A dry jeft, Sir. Sir And. Are you full of them ? { jet Mar. Ay, Sir, I have them at my finger's ends: marry, now I let your hand go, I am barren. [Exit Maria. Sir To. O Knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary: when did I fee thee so put down? Sir And. Never in your life, I think, unless you sep canary put me down: methinks, sometimes I have no more wit than a christian, or an ordinary man has; but I am a great eater of beef, and, I believe, that does harm to my wit. Sir To. No question. Sir And. An I thought that, I'd forswear it. I'll ride home to-morrow, Sir Toby. Sir To. Pourquoy, my dear Knight. Sir And. What is pourquoy? do, or not do? I would, I had bestowed that time in the tongues that I have in fencing, dancing, and bear-beating. O, had I but follow'd the arts! Sir To. Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair. Sir And. Why, would that have mended my hair? curl by nature. Sir And. But it becomes me well enough, does't not? Sir To. Excellent! it hangs like flax on a distaff; and I hope to fee a house-wife take thee between her legs, and spin it off. Sir And. Faith, I'll home to-morrow, Sir Toby; your niece will not be seen, or, if she be, it's four to one she'll none of me: the Duke hinself here, hard by, wooes her. Sir To. She'll none o'th' Duke, she'll not match above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; I have heard her swear it. Tut, there's life in't, man. Sir And. I'll stay a month longer, I'm a fellow o'th' * thou feeft, it will not cool my nature.] We should read, it will not curl by nature. The Joke is evident. N4 Arangest strangest mind i'th' world: I delight in masks and revels sometimes altogether. Sir To. Art thou good at these kick-shaws, Knight? Sir And. As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be, under the degree of my betters; and yet I will not compare with an old man. Sir To. What is thy excellence in a galliard, Knight? Sir And. Faith, I can cut a caper. Sir To. And I can cut the mutton to't. Sir And. And, I think, I have the back-trick, fimply as strong as any man in Illyria. Sir To. Wherefore are these things hid? wherefore have these gifts a curtain before them? are they like to take duft, like mistress Mall's picture? why doft thou not go to church in a galliard, and come home in a coranto? my very walk should be a jig! I would not fo much as make water, but in a fink-a-pace : what dost thou mean? is it a world to hide virtues in? I did think, by the excellent constitution of thy leg, it was form'd under the star of a galliard. Sir And. Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent well in flame-colour'd stocking. Shall we fet about. some revels? Sir. To. What shall we do else? were we not born under Taurus? Sir And. Taurus? that's fides and heart. thee caper; ha! higher: ha! ha! Val. SCENE V. Changes to the Palace. Let me fel excellent. [Exeunt. Enter Valentine, and Viola in man's attire. IF F the Duke continue these favours towards you, Cefario, you are like to be much advanc'd; he hath known you but three days, and already you are no stranger. |