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Sir And. Wherefore, sweet heart? what's yonr metaphor?
Mar. 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 your jest?
Mar. A dry jest, sir.
Mar. Ay, sir; I have them at my fingers’ends: marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren. [Exit MARIA.
Sir To. O knight, thou lack'st 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 of beef, and I believe that does harm to my wit.
Sir To. No question.
Sir And. An I thought that, I'd forswear 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: 0, had I but followed the arts !
Sir To. Then hadst thou had an excellent bead 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 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, wooes 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 it. 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 in masks and revels sometimes altogether.
Sir To. Art thou good at these kickshaws, 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, simply as strong 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 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-coloured 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! [Excunt.
SCENE IV.-A Room in the Duke's Palace.
Enter VALENTINE, and Viola in man's attire. Val. If the duke continue these favours towards you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanced; he hath known you but three days, and already you are no stranger.
Vio. You either fear his humour, or my negligence, that you call in question the continuance of his love: Is he inconstant, sir, in his favours?
Val. No, believe me.
Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants.
Vio. Sure, my noble lord,
As it is spoke, she never will admit me.
Duke. Be clamorous, and leap all civil bounds, Rather than make unprofited return.
Vio. Say, I do speak with her, my lord; What then?
Duke. O, then unfold the passion of my love,
Vio. I think not so, my lord.
Duke. Dear lad, believe it :
say, thou art a man : Diana's lip
Vio. I'll do my best,
SCENE V.A Room in OLIVIA's House.
Enter MARIA, and Clown. Mar. Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will not open my lips, so wide as a bristle may enter,
of thy excuse. My lady will hang thee for thy absence.
Clo. Let her hang me! he, that is well hanged in this world, needs to fear no colours.
Mar. Make that good.
Mar. A good lenten answerI can tell thee where that saying was born, of I fear no colours.
Clo. Where, good Mistress Mary?
Mar. In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in your foolery.
Clo. Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those that are fools, let them use their talents.
Mar. Yet you will be hanged for being so long absent, or, to be turned away; Is not that as good as a hanging to you?
Clo. Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage; and for turning away, let summer bear it out.
Mar. You are resolute, then ?
Mar. That if one break, the other will hold; or if both break, your gaskins fall.
Clo. Apt, in good faith! very apt. Well, go thy way; if Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any in Illyria.