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OLIVIA'S house.

Sir To.
Approach, Sir Andrew: not to be
abed after midnight is to be up betimes; and
'diluculo surgere,' thou know'st,—

Sir And.
Nay, by my troth, I know not: but
I know, to be up late is to be up late.

Sir To.
A false conclusion: I hate it as an
unfilled can. To be up after midnight and to
go to bed then, is early: so that to go to bed
after midnight is to go to bed betimes. Does (10)
not our life consist of the four elements?

Sir And.
Faith, so they say; but I think it
rather consists of eating and drinking.

Sir To.
Thou'rt a scholar; let us therefore
eat and drink. Marian, I say! a stoup of wine! Enter CLOWN.

Sir And.
Here comes the fool, i' faith.

How now, my hearts! did you never
see the picture of 'we three'?

Sir To.
Welcome, ass. Now let's have a catch.

Sir And.
By my troth, the fool has an excellent
breast. I had rather than forty shillings
I had such a leg, and so sweet a breath
to sing, as the fool has. In sooth, thou wast in
very gracious fooling last night, when thou
spokest of Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians passing
the equinoctial of Queubus: 'twas very
good, i' faith. I sent thee sixpence for thy
leman: hadst it?

I did impeticos thy gratillity; for
Malvolio's nose is no whipstock: my lady has
a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no bottle-ale

Sir And.
Excellent! why, this is the best (31)
fooling, when all is done. Now, a song.

Sir To.
Come on; there is sixpence for
you: let's have a song.

Sir And.
There's a testril of me too: if one
knight give a—

Would you have a love-song, or a
song of good life?

Sir To.
A love-song, a love-song.

Sir And.
Ay, ay: I care not for good life.

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.

Sir And.
Excellent good, i' faith.

Sir To.
Good, good.

What is love? 'tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What's to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies no plenty;
Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty,
Youth's a stuff will not endure.

Sir And.
A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight.

Sir To.
A contagious breath.

Sir And.
Very sweet and contagious, i'faith.

Sir To.
To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in
contagion. But shall we make the welkin dance
indeed? shall we rouse the night-owl in a
catch that will draw three souls out of one
weaver? shall we do that?

Sir And.
An you love me, let's do it: I am
dog at a catch.

By'r lady, sir, and some dogs will
catch well.

Sir And.
Most certain. Let our catch be,
'Thou knave.'

'Hold thy peace, thou knave,' knight?
I shall be constrained in't to call thee knave, (70)

Sir And.
'Tis not the first time I have constrained
one to call me knave. Begin, fool: it
begins 'Hold thy peace.'

I shall never begin if I hold my peace.

Sir And.
Good, i' faith. Come, begin. [Catch sung.
Enter MARIA.

What a caterwauling do you keep
here! If my lady have not called up her steward
Malvolio and bid him turn you out of (79)
doors, never trust me.

Sir To.
My lady's a Cataian, we are politicians,
Malvolio's a Peg-a-Ramsey, and 'Three
merry men be we.' Am not I consanguineous?
am I not of her blood? Tillyvally. Lady! [Sings.]

'There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady, lady!'

Beshrew me, the knight's in admirable

Sir And.
Ay, he does well enough if he be
disposed, and so do I too: he does it with a
better grace, but I do 't more natural.

Sir To.
'O, the twelfth day of (91)


For the love o' God, peace! Enter MALVOLIO.

My masters, are you mad? or what
are you? Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty,
but to gabble like tinkers at this time of
night? Do ye make an alehouse of my lady's
house, that ye squeak out your coziers' catches
without any mitigation or remorse of voice?

Is there no respect of place, persons, nor time
in you?

Sir To.
We did keep time, sir, in our (101)
catches. Sneck up!

Sir Toby, I must be round with you.
My lady bade me tell you, that, though she
harbors you as her kinsman, she's nothing
allied to your disorders. If you can separate
yourself and your misdemeanors, you are welcome

to the house; if not, an it would please
you to take leave of her, she is very willing to
bid you farewell.

Sir To.
'Farewell, dear heart, since I must (110)
needs be gone.'

Nay, good Sir Toby.

'His eyes do show his days are almost

Is't even so?

Sir To.
'But I will never die.

Sir Toby, there you lie.

This is much credit to you.

Sir To.
'Shall I bid him go?'

'What an if you do?'

Sir To.
'Shall I bid him go, and spare not?' (121)

'O no, no, no, no, you dare not.'

Sir To.
Out o' tune, sir: ye lie. Art any
more than a steward? Dost thou think, because
thou art virtuous, there shall be no more
cakes and ale?

Yes, by Saint Anne, and ginger shall
be hot i' the mouth too.

Sir To.
Thou'rt i' the right. Go, sir, rub
your chain with crums. A stoup of wine,.

Mistress Mary, if you prized my,
lady's favor at any thing more than contempt,
you would not give means for this uncivil
rule: she shall know of it, by this hand. [Exit.

Go shake your ears.

Sir And.
'Twere as good a deed as to drink
when a man's a-hungry, to challenge him the
field, and then to break promise with him and
make a fool of him.

Sir To.
Do't, knight: I'll write thee a challenge:
or I'll deliver thy indignation to him (141)
by word of mouth.

Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for tonight:
since the youth of the count's was today
with my lady, she is much out of quiet.
For Monsieur Malvolio, let me alone with
him: if I do not gull him into a nayword,
and make him a common recreation, do not
think I have wit enough to lie straight in my
bed: I know I can do it.

Sir To.
Posses us, possess us; tell us (150)
something of him.

Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kindof puritan.

Sir And.
O, if I thought that I'ld beat him
like a dog!

Sir To.
What, for being a puritan? thy exquisite
reason, dear knight?

Sir And.
I have no exquisite reason for't,
but I have reason good enough.

The devil a puritan that he is, or any
thing constantly, but a time-pleaser; an affectioned
ass, that cons state without book and
utters it by great swarths: the best persuaded
of himself, so crammed, as he thinks, with excellencies,
that it is his grounds of faith that
all that look on him love him; and on that
vice in him will my revenge find notable cause
to work.

Sir To.
What wilt thou do?

I will drop in his way some obscure
epistles of love; wherein, by the colour of his
beard, the shape of his leg, the manner of his
gait, the expressure of his eye, forehead, and
complexion, he shall find himself most feelingly
personated. I can write very like my lady

your niece: on a forgotten matter we can
hardly make distinction of our hands.

Sir To.
Excellent! I smell a device.

Sir And.
I have't in my nose too.

Sir To.
He shall think, by the letters that
thou wilt drop, that they come from my niece, (180)
and that she's in love with him.

My purpose is, indeed, a horse of
that color.

Sir And.
And your horse now would make
him an ass.

Ass, I doubt not.

Sir And.
O, 'twill be admirable!

Sport royal, I warrant you: I know
my physic will work with him. I will plant you
two, and let the fool make a third, where he
shall find the letter: observe his construction
of it. For this night, to bed, and dream on
the event. Farewell. [Exit.

Sir To.
Good night, Penthesilea.

Sir And.
Before me, she's a good wench.

Sir To.
She's a beagle, true-bred, and one
that adores me: what o' that?

Sir And.
I was adored once too.

Sir To.
Let's to bed, knight. Thou hadst
need send for more money.

Sir And.
If I cannot recover your niece, I (201)
am a foul way out.

Sir To.
Send for money, knight: if thou
hast her not i' the end, call me cut.

Sir And.
If I do not, never trust me, take
it how you will.

Sir To.
Come, come, I'll go burn some
sack; 'tis too late to go to bed now; come,
knight; come, knight. [Exeunt.

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