ACT I. SCENE III.
OLIVIA'S house
Enter SIR TOBY BELCH and MARIA
| SIR TOBY. | What a plague means my niece to take the death of her
brother thus? I am sure care's an enemy to life.
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| MARIA. | By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier o' nights;
your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions to your ill hours.
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| SIR TOBY. | Why, let her except before excepted.
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| MARIA. | Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest limits
of order.
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| SIR TOBY. | 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.
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| MARIA. | 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.
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| SIR TOBY. | write_ads(1,1)> Who? Sir Andrew Aguecheek?
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| MARIA. | Ay, he.
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| SIR TOBY. | He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria.
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| MARIA. | What's that to th' purpose?
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| SIR TOBY. | Why, he has three thousand ducats a year.
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| MARIA. | Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats; he's a
very fool and a prodigal.
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| SIR TOBY. | Fie that you'll say so! He plays o' th' viol-de-gamboys,
and speaks three or four languages word for word without book,
and hath all the good gifts of nature.
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| MARIA. | 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.
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| SIR TOBY. | write_ads(1,1)> By this hand, they are scoundrels and subtractors that
say so of him. Who are they?
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| MARIA. | They that add, moreover, he's drunk nightly in your company.
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| SIR TOBY. | 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' th' toe like a parish-top. What, wench!
Castiliano vulgo! for here comes Sir Andrew Agueface.
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Enter SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK
| AGUECHEEK. | Sir Toby Belch! How now, Sir Toby Belch!
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| SIR TOBY. | Sweet Sir Andrew!
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| AGUECHEEK. | Bless you, fair shrew.
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| MARIA. | And you too, sir.
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| SIR TOBY. | Accost, Sir Andrew, accost.
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| AGUECHEEK. | What's that?
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| SIR TOBY. | My niece's chambermaid.
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| AGUECHEEK. | Good Mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance.
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| MARIA. | My name is Mary, sir.
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| AGUECHEEK. | Good Mistress Mary Accost-
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| SIR TOBY. | You mistake, knight. 'Accost' is front her, board her,
woo her, assail her.
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| AGUECHEEK. | By my troth, I would not undertake her in this company.
Is that the meaning of 'accost'?
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| MARIA. | Fare you well, gentlemen.
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| SIR TOBY. | An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, would thou mightst never
draw sword again!
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| AGUECHEEK. | An you part so, mistress, I would I might never draw
sword again. Fair lady, do you think you have fools in hand?
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| MARIA. | Sir, I have not you by th' hand.
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| AGUECHEEK. | Marry, but you shall have; and here's my hand.
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| MARIA. | Now, sir, thought is free. I pray you, bring your hand to
th' buttry-bar and let it drink.
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| AGUECHEEK. | Wherefore, sweetheart? What's your metaphor?
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| MARIA. | It's dry, sir.
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| AGUECHEEK. | Why, I think so; I am not such an ass but I can keep my
hand dry. But what's your jest?
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| MARIA. | A dry jest, sir.
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| AGUECHEEK. | Are you full of them?
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| MARIA. | Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers' ends; marry, now I let
go your hand, I am barren
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Exit MARIA
| SIR TOBY. | O knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary! When did I see
thee so put down?
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| AGUECHEEK. | 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 great eater of beef, and I
believe that does harm to my wit.
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| SIR TOBY. | No question.
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| AGUECHEEK. | An I thought that, I'd forswear it. I'll ride home
to-morrow, Sir Toby.
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| SIR TOBY. | Pourquoi, my dear knight?
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| AGUECHEEK. | 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. Oh, had I but followed the arts!
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| SIR TOBY. | Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair.
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| AGUECHEEK. | Why, would that have mended my hair?
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| SIR TOBY. | Past question; for thou seest it will not curl by nature.
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| AGUECHEEK. | But it becomes me well enough, does't not?
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| SIR TOBY. | Excellent; it hangs like flax on a distaff, and I hope to
see a huswife take thee between her legs and spin it off.
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| AGUECHEEK. | 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.
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| SIR TOBY. | She'll none o' th' 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.
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| AGUECHEEK. | I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o' th' strangest
mind i' th' world; I delight in masques and revels sometimes
altogether.
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| SIR TOBY. | Art thou good at these kickshawses, knight?
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| AGUECHEEK. | As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be, under the
degree of my betters; and yet I will not compare with an old man.
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| SIR TOBY. | What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight?
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| AGUECHEEK. | Faith, I can cut a caper.
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| SIR TOBY. | And I can cut the mutton to't.
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| AGUECHEEK. | And I think I have the back-trick simply as strong as
any man in Illyria.
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| SIR TOBY. | 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 form'd under the
star of a galliard.
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| AGUECHEEK. | Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent well in
flame-colour'd stock. Shall we set about some revels?
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| SIR TOBY. | What shall we do else? Were we not born under Taurus?
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| AGUECHEEK. | Taurus? That's sides and heart.
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| SIR TOBY. | No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let me see the caper. Ha,
higher! Ha, ha, excellent! Exeunt
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