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ACT II. SCENE III. 


OLIVIA'S house

Enter SIR TOBY and SIR ANDREW

 SIR TOBY.

Approach, Sir Andrew. Not to be abed after midnight is to
be up betimes; and 'diluculo surgere' thou know'st-

 AGUECHEEK.

Nay, by my troth, I know not; but I know to be up late
is to be up late.

 SIR TOBY.

A false conclusion! I hate it as an unfill'd 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 not our lives
consist of the four elements?

 AGUECHEEK.

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

 SIR TOBY.

Th'art a scholar; let us therefore eat and drink.
Marian, I say! a stoup of wine.

Enter CLOWN

 AGUECHEEK.

Here comes the fool, i' faith.

 CLOWN.

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

 SIR TOBY.

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

 AGUECHEEK.

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 spok'st of Pigrogromitus,
of the Vapians passing the equinoctial of Queubus; 'twas very
good, i' faith. I sent thee sixpence for thy leman; hadst it?

 CLOWN.

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 houses.

 AGUECHEEK.

Excellent! Why, this is the best fooling, when all is
done. Now, a song.

 SIR TOBY.

Come on, there is sixpence for you. Let's have a song.

 AGUECHEEK.

There's a testril of me too; if one knight give a- CLOWN. Would you have a love-song, or a song of good life?

 SIR TOBY.

A love-song, a love-song.

 AGUECHEEK.

Ay, ay; I care not for good life.

CLOWN sings

 

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.

 AGUECHEEK.

Excellent good, i' faith!

 SIR TOBY.

Good, good!

CLOWN sings

 

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.

 AGUECHEEK.

A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight.

 SIR TOBY.

A contagious breath.

 AGUECHEEK.

Very sweet and contagious, i' faith.

 SIR TOBY.

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?

 AGUECHEEK.

An you love me, let's do't. I am dog at a catch.

 CLOWN.

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

 AGUECHEEK.

Most certain. Let our catch be 'Thou knave.'

 CLOWN.

'Hold thy peace, thou knave' knight? I shall be constrain'd
in't to call thee knave, knight.

 AGUECHEEK.

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

 CLOWN.

I shall never begin if I hold my peace.

 AGUECHEEK.

Good, i' faith! Come, begin

[Catch sung]

Enter MARIA

 MARIA.

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

 SIR TOBY.

My lady's a Cataian, we are politicians, Malvolio's a
Peg-a-Ramsey, and [Sings]
Three merry men be we.
Am not I consanguineous? Am I not of her blood? Tilly-vally,
lady

[Sings]

 

There dwelt a man in Babylon,
Lady, lady.

 CLOWN.

Beshrew me, the knight's in admirable fooling.

 AGUECHEEK.

Ay, he does well enough if he be dispos'd, and so do I
too; he does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural.

 SIR TOBY.

[Sings] O' the twelfth day of December-

 MARIA.

For the love o' God, peace!

Enter MALVOLIO

 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 ale-house 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 TOBY.

We did keep time, sir, in our catches. Sneck up!

 MALVOLIO.

Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My lady bade me tell
you that, though she harbours you as her kins-man, she's nothing
allied to your disorders. If you can separate yourself and your
misdemeanours, you are welcome to the house; if not, and it would
please you to take leave of her, she is very willing to bid you
farewell.

 SIR TOBY.

[Sings] Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be gone.

 MARIA.

Nay, good Sir Toby.

 CLOWN.

[Sings] His eyes do show his days are almost done.

 MALVOLIO.

Is't even so?

 SIR TOBY.

[Sings] But I will never die

[Falls down]

 CLOWN.

[Sings] Sir Toby, there you lie.

 MALVOLIO.

This is much credit to you.

 SIR TOBY.

[Sings] Shall I bid him go?

 CLOWN.

[Sings] What an if you do?

 SIR TOBY.

[Sings] Shall I bid him go, and spare not?

 CLOWN.

[Sings] O, no, no, no, no, you dare not.

 SIR TOBY.

[Rising] 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?

 CLOWN.

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

 SIR TOBY.

Th' art i' th' right. Go, sir, rub your chain with crumbs.
A stoup of wine, Maria!

 MALVOLIO.

Mistress Mary, if you priz'd my lady's favour at anything
more than contempt, you would not give means for this uncivil
rule; she shall know of it, by this hand.

Exit

 MARIA.

Go shake your ears.

 AGUECHEEK.

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

 SIR TOBY.

Do't, knight. I'll write thee a challenge; or I'll
deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth.

 MARIA.

Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for to-night; since the youth of
the Count's was to-day 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 TOBY.

Possess us, possess us; tell us something of him.

 MARIA.

Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of Puritan.

 AGUECHEEK.

O, if I thought that, I'd beat him like a dog.

 SIR TOBY.

What, for being a Puritan? Thy exquisite reason, dear
knight?

 AGUECHEEK.

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

 MARIA.

The devil a Puritan that he is, or anything constantly but a
time-pleaser; an affection'd ass that cons state without book and
utters it by great swarths; the best persuaded of himself, so
cramm'd, 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 TOBY.

What wilt thou do?

 MARIA.

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 forgotten matter we
can hardly make distinction of our hands.

 SIR TOBY.

Excellent! I smell a device.

 AGUECHEEK.

I have't in my nose too.

 SIR TOBY.

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

 MARIA.

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

 AGUECHEEK.

And your horse now would make him an ass.

 MARIA.

Ass, I doubt not.

 AGUECHEEK.

O, 'twill be admirable!

 MARIA.

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 TOBY.

Good night, Penthesilea.

 AGUECHEEK.

Before me, she's a good wench.

 SIR TOBY.

She's a beagle true-bred, and one that adores me.
What o' that?

 AGUECHEEK.

I was ador'd once too.

 SIR TOBY.

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

 AGUECHEEK.

If I cannot recover your niece, I am a foul way out.

 SIR TOBY.

Send for money, knight; if thou hast her not i' th' end,
call me Cut.

 AGUECHEEK.

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

 SIR TOBY.

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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