« PredošláPokračovať »
Because she will admit no kind of suit,
Cap. Be you his eunuch, and your mute l'll be : When my tongue blabs, then'let mine eyes not see! Vio. I thank thee : Lead me on,
Enter Sir TOBY, and MARIA.
Sir To. What a plague means my niece, to take the death of her brother thus ? I am sure, care's an enemy to life.
Mar. By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier o'nights; your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions to your ill hours.
Sir To. Why, let her excepț, before excepted.
Mar. Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest limits of order.
Sir To. 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.
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
Sir To. Who? Sir Andrew Ague-cheek?
129 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 say so! he plays o'th' viol. de-gambo, and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature.
Mar. He hath, indeed,--almost natural: for, besides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller; and, but that he hath a gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among
prudent, he would quickly have the gift of a grave. 141
Sir To. By this hand, they are scoundrels, and subtractors, that say sô 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 passage in
iny throat, and drink in Illyria : He's à coward, and a coystril, that will not drink to my niece, till his brains turn o'the toe like a parish-top. What, wench : Castili. and volgo; for here comes Sir Andrew Ague-face.
Enter Sir ANDREW.
Sir And. Sir Toby Belch! how now, Sir Toby Belch?
153 Sir To. Sweet Sir Andrew ! Sir And. Bless you, fair shrew. Mar. And you too, sir. Sir To. Accost, Sir Andrew, accost. Sir And. What's that ? Sir To. My niece's chainber-maid.
Sir And. Good mistress Accost; I desire better ac. quaintance.
161 Mar. My name is Mary, sir. Sir And. Good Mrs. Mary Accost,
Sir To. You mistake, knight: accost, is, front her, board her, woo her, assail her.
Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake her in this company. Is that the meaning of accost ? Bij
Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen.
Sir To. An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, would thou might'st never draw sword again.
170 Sir And. An you part so, mistress, I would I might never draw sword again ; Fair lady, do you think you have fools in hand ?
Mar. Sir, I have not you by the hand.
Mar. Now, sir, thought is free : I pray you, bring your hand to the buttery-bar, and let it drink.
Sir And. Wherefore, sweet heart? what's your metaphor ?
180 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?
189 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 follow'd the arts !
Sir To. Then hadst thou had an excellent head 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?
Şir To. 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 And. 'Faith, I'll home to-morrow, Sir Toby: your niece will not be seen; or, if she bę, 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,
Sir And. I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o'the strangest mind i'the world; I delight in masques and revels sometimes altogether. Si To. Art thou good at these kick-shaws, knight? Biij