Sir To. Confine? I'll confine myself no finer than I am ; these cloaths are good enough to drink in, and fo be these boots too; an they be not, let them hang themselves in their own ftraps. 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 fay fo! he plays o'th' violdegambo, and fpeaks three or four languages word for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature. Mar. He hath, indeed,-almost natural; for befides 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 fcoundrels and subtractors that say fo 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 paffage 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 Volgo; for here comes Sir Andrew Ague-cheek. Sir And. Sir Toby Belch! how now, Sir Toby Belch? Sir To. Sweet Sir Andrew! Sir And. Blefs you, fair fhrew, Mar. And you too, Sir. Sir To. Accoft, Sir Andrew, accoft.. Sir And. What's that? Sir To. My niece's chamber-maid. Sir. And. Good miftrefs Accoft, I defire better acquaintance. Mar. My name is Mary, Sir. Sir And. Good miftrefs Mary Accoft, Sir To. You mistake, Knight: accoft, is, front her, board her, wooe her, affail her. Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake her in this company. Is that the meaning of accoft? Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen. Sir To. An thou let her part fo, Sir Andrew, would thou might'ft never draw fword again. Sir And. An you part fo, miftress, I would I might never draw fword 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 fhall 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, fweet-heart? what's your metaphor? lemn looks. The Oxford Editor has taken my emendation: But, by Caftilian countenance, he fuppofes is meant most civil and courtly looks. It is plain, he understands gravity and formality to be civility and courtliness, WARBURTON, Mar, Mar. It's dry, Sir 2. Sir. And. Why, I think fo: I am not such an ass, but I can keep my hand dry. But what's your jeft? Mar. A dry jeft, Sir. Sir And. Are you full of them? Mar. Ay, Sir, I have them at my fingers ends: marry, now I let your hand go, 1 am barren. [Exit Maria. Sir To. O Knight, thou lack'ft a cup of canary: when did I see thee fo put down? Sir And. Never in your life, I think, unless you see canary put me down: methinks, fometimes I have no more wit than a chriftian, 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 forfwear 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-baiting. O, had I but follow'd the arts! Sir To. Then hadft thou had an excellent head of hair. Sir And. Why, would that have mended my hair? Sir To. Paft queftion; for 3 thou feeft, 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 diftaff; 2 It's dry, Sir.] What is the jest of dry hand, I know not any better than Sir Andrew. It may poffibly mean, a hand with no money in it: or, according to the rules of Phyfiognomy, fhe may intend to infinuate, that it is not a lover's hand, a moist hand being vulgarly accounted a fign of an amorous conftitution. 3 In former copies, thou feef, it will not cocs MY nature.] We fhould read, it will not CURL BY na ture. The joke is evident. WARBURTON. and and I hope to fee a house-wife take thee between her legs, and fpin 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 fhe'll none of me: the Duke himself here, hard by, wooes her. Sir To. She'll none o'th' Duke, fhe'll not match above her degree, neither in eftate, years, nor wit; I have heard her fwear it. Tut, there's life in't, man. Sir And. I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o' th' ftrangest mind i'th' world : I delight in masks and revels fometimes 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 ftrong 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 miftrefs Mall's picture? why doft thou not go to church in a galliard, and come home in a coranto? my very walk fhould be a jig! I would not fo much as make water, but in a fink-a-pace: what doft thou mean? is it a world to hide virtues in? I did think, by the excellent conftitution of thy leg, it was form'd under the ftar of a galliard. Sir And. Ay, 'tis ftrong, and it does indifferent well in a flame-colour'd ftocking. Shall we fet about fome revels? Sir To. What fhall we do elfe? were we not born under Taurus? Sir And. Taurus? that's fides and heart ". Sir To. No, Sir, it is legs and thighs. Let me fee thee, caper; ha! higher: ha, ha! Val. SCENE V. Changes to the Palace. -excellent. [Exeunt. Enter Valentine, and Viola in man's attire. F the Duke continue thefe favours towards you, Cefario, you are like to be much advanc'd; he hath known you but three days, and already you are no ftranger. Vio. You either fear his humour, or my negligence, that you call in queftion the continuance of his love. Is he inconftant, Sir, in his favours ? Val. No, believe me. Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants. Vio. I thank you: here comes the Duke. Vio. On your attendance, my Lord, here. |