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sides 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 T. By this hand, they are scoundrels and subtractors, that say so of him. Who are they?
Maria. They that add, moreover, he's drunk nightly in your company,
Sir T. 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 coystril, that will not drink to my niece, till his brains turn o'the toe, like a parish top. What, wench !-here comes Sir Andrew Ague-face.
Enter SIR ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK. Sir A. Sir Toby Belch ! how now, Sir Toby Belch? Sir T. Sweet Sir Andrew! Sir A. Bless you, fair shrew! Maria. And you 100, sir! Sir T. Accost, Sir Andrew, accostSir A. What's that? Sir T. My niece's chamber-maid.
Sir A. Good Mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance.
Maria. My name is Mary, sir.
Sir T. You mistake, knight; accost is, front her, board her, woo her, assail her,
Sir A. By my troth, I would not undertake her in this company. Is that the meaning of accost ?
Maria. Fare you well, gentlemen!
Sir T. An thou let her part so, Sir Andrew, 'would thou mightst never draw sword again!
Sir A. An you part so, mistress, I would, I might never draw sword again! Fair lady, do you
you have fools in hand ?
Maria. Sir, I have not you by the hand.
Sir A. Marry, but you shall have; and here's my hand.
Maria. Now, sir, thought is free. I pray you, bring your hand to the buttery-bar, and let it drink.
Sir A. Wherefore, sweetheart? what's your metaphor?
Maria. It's dry, sir.
Sir A. Why, I think so ; I am not such an ass, but I can keep my hand dry. But what's your jest?
Maria. A dry jest, sir.
Maria. Ay, sir, I have them at my finger's ends; marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren.
[Erit MARIA. Sir T. O knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary!-When did I see thee so put down?
Sir A. Never in your life, I think ; unless you see canary put me down. Methinks, sometimes, I have no more wit than a Christian, or any ordinary man has; but I am a great eater of beef, and, I believe, that does harm to my wit.
Sir T. No question.
Sir A. An I thought that, I'd forswear it. I'll ride home to-morrow, Sir Toby.
Sir T. Pourquoy, my dear knight?
Sir A. 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 followed the arts !
Sir T. Then hadst thou an excellent head of hair. Sir A. Why, would that have mended my
hair? Sir T. Past question ; for thou seest, it will not curl by nature. Sir A. But it becomes me well enough, does't not;
Sir T. Excellent! it hangs like fax on a distaff? and I hope to see a housewife take thee between her legs, and spin it off.
Sir A. '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 duke himself, here, hard by, wooes her.
Sir T. She'll none o' the duke; she'll not match above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; I have heard her swear it. Tut, there's life in't, man!
Sir A. I'll stay a month longer-I am a fellow of the strangest mind i' the world; I delight in masks and revels, sometimes, altogether.
Sir T. Art thou good at these kickshaws, knight?
Sir A. As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be, under the degree of iny betters: and yet I will not compare with an old man.
Sir T. What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight?
Sir A. And, I think, I have the back-trick, simply, as strong as any man in Illyria.
Sir T. Wherefore are these things hid? wherefore have these gifts a curtain before them 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. 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 A. Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent well in a flame-coloured stocking. Shall we set about some revels ?
Sir T. What shall we do else? were we not born under Taurus?
Sir A. Taurus ? That's sides and heart.
Sir T. No, sir, it is legs and thighs. Let me seç thee caper; ha ! higher: ha! ha! excellent !
Enter Duke and ATTENDANTS, and VIOLA, in Man's
Viola. Sure, my noble lord,
Duke. Be clamorous, and leap all civil bounds,
Viola. Say, I do speak with her, my lord; what then?
Duke. Oh, then, unfold the passion of my love,
Viola. I think not so, my lord.
Duke. Dear lad, believe it;
All, if you will; for I myself am best,
[Exeunt Duke and ATTENDANTS.
Enter Maria and Clown.
Maria. Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will not open my lips so wide as a bristle may enter, in
of thy excuse: my lady will hang thee for thy absence.
Clown. Let her hang me: he, that is well hanged in this world, needs fear no colours.
Maria. Make that good.
Maria. A good lenten answer: yet you will be hanged for being so long absent, or be turned away; is not that as good as a hanging to you?
Clown. Marry, a good hanging prevents a bad mar. riage ; and, for turning away, let summer bear it out.
Maria. Peace, you rogue, no more o’that! here comes my lady: make your excuse wisely, you were best.
[Erit. Clown. Wit, and't be thy will, put me into a good fooling! Those wits, that think they have thee, do very oft prove fools; and I, that am sure I lack thee,