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OLIVIA'S house.

Sir To.
What a plague means my niece, to
take the death of her brother thus? I am sure
care's an enemy to life.

By my troth, Sir Toby, you must
come in earlier o' nights: your cousin, my
lady, takes great exceptions to your ill hours.

Sir To.
Why, let her except, before excepted.

Ay, but you must confine yourself (9)
within the modest limits of order.

Sir To.
Confine! I'll confine myself no
finer than I am: these clothes are good enough
to drink in; and so be these boots too: an
they be not, let them hang themselves in their
own straps.

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 Aguecheek?

Ay, he.

Sir To.
He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria. (21)

What's that to the purpose?

Sir To.
Why, he has three thousand ducats
a year.

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 so! he plays o'
the viol-de-gamboys, and speaks three or four
languages word for word without book, and (29)
hath all the good gifts of nature.

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 substractors that say so of him. Who are

They that add, moreover, he's drunk (39)
nightly in your company.

Sir To.
With drinking healths to my niece:
I'll drink to her as long as there is a passage
in my throat and drink in Illyria: he's a coward
and a coystrill that will not drink to my
niece till his brains turn o' the toe like a

parish-top. What, wench! Castiliano vulgo!
for here comes Sir Andrew Agueface. Enter SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK.

Sir And.
Sir Toby Belch! how now, Sir
Toby Belch!

Sir To.
Sweet Sir Andrew! (50)

Sir And.
Bless you, fair shrew.

And you too, sir.

Sir To.
Accost, Sir Andrew, accost.

Sir And.
What's that?

Sir To.
My niece's chambermaid.

Sir And.
Good Mistress Accost, I desire
better acquaintance.

My name is Mary, sir.

Sir And.
Good Mistress Mary Accost,—

Sir To.
You mistake, knight; 'accost' is (60)
front her, board her, woo her, assail her.

Sir And.
By my troth, I would not undertake
her in this company. Is that the meaning
of 'accost '?

Fare you well, gentlemen.

Sir To.
An thou let part so, Sir Andrew,
would thou mightst never draw sword 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? (70)

Sir, I have not you by the hand.

Sir And.
Marry, but you shall have; and
here's my hand.

Now, sir, 'thought is free:' I pray
you, bring your hand to the buttery-bar and
let it drink.

Sir And.
Wherefore, sweet-heart? what's
your metaphor?

It's dry, sir.

Sir And.
Why, I think so: I am not such
an ass but I can keep my hand dry. But what's (80)
your jest?

A dry jest, sir.

Sir And.
Are you full of them?

Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers'
ends: marry, now I let go your hand, I am
barren. [Exit.

Sir To.
O knight, thou lackest a cup of
canary: when did I see thee so put down?

Sir And.
Never in your life, I think; unless
you see 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 (91)
of beef and I believe that does harm to my wit.

Sir To.
No question.

Sir And.
An I thought that, I'ld forswear
it. I'll ride home to-morrow, Sir Toby.

Sir To.
Pourquoi, my dear knight?

Sir And.
What is 'pourquoi'? do or not
do? I would I had bestowed that time in the
tongues that I have in fencing, dancing and
bear-baiting: O, had I but followed the arts!

Sir To.
Then hadst thou had an excellent (101)
head of hair.

Sir And.
Why, would that have mended
my hair?

Sir To.
Past question; for thou seest it will
not 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 see a housewife take (110)
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

count himself here hard by woos her.

Sir To.
She'll none o' the count: she'll not
match above her degree, neither in estate,
years, nor wit; I have heard her swear't. Tut,
there's life in 't, man.

Sir And.
I'll stay a month longer. I am a
fellow o' the strangest mind i' the world; I delight (120)
in masques and revels sometimes altogether.

Sir To.
Art thou good at these kickshawses,

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,

Sir And.
Faith, I can cut a caper. (130)

Sir To.
And I can cut the mutton to't.

Sir And.
And I think I have the back-trick
simply as strong as any man in Illyria.

Sir To.
Wherefore are these things hid?
wherefore have these gifts a curtain before
'em? are they like to take dust, like Mistress
Mall's picture? why dost thou not go to
church in a galliard and come home in a coranto?

My very walk should be a jig; I would
not so much as make water but in a sink-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 formed under

the star of a galliard.

Sir And.
Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent
well in a flame-colored stock. Shall we
set about some revels?

Sir To.
What shall we do else? were we
not born under Taurus?

Sir And.
Taurus! That's sides and heart.

Sir To.
No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let
me see thee caper: ha! higher: ha, ha! excellent! [Exeunt.

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