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Mar. Sir, I have not you by the hand.
Sir And. Marry, but you shall have ; and here's my 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 ?
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 l 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?
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 masques and revels sometimes 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, 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 dogt 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-apace 10. What dost thou mean? is it a world to hide virtues in? I did think, by the excellent constitution of thy leg, it was form’d under the star of a galliard.
Sir And. Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent well in a flame-colour'd 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!
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.
Duke. Stand you awhile aloof.–Cesario,
Sure, my noble lord,
Duke. Be clamorous, and leap all civil bounds,
Vio. I think not so, my lord.
Dear lad, believe it;
And all is semblative a woman's part "2.
I'll do my best,
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, in way of thy excuse : my lady will hang thee for thy absence.
Clo. Let her hang me: he, that is well hang'd in this world, needs to fear no colours.
Mar. Make that good.
Mar. A good lenten answer 's : I 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.