SIR TOBY
Approach, Sir Andrew; not to be abed after midnight, is to be up betimes; and diluculo surgere, know’st.
SIR ANDREW
Nay, by my troth, I know not; but I know to be up late is to be up late.
SIR TOBY
A false conclusion; I hate it as an unfilled can. To be up after midnight, and to go to bed then is early: so that to go to bed after midnight is to go to bed betimes. Does not our lives consist of the four elements?
SIR ANDREW
Faith, so they say, but I think it rather consists of eating and drinking.
SIR TOBY
Th’art a scholar; let us therefore eat and drink.
Marian, I say! a stoup of wine.
SIR ANDREW
Here comes the fool, i’ faith.
CLOWN
How now, my hearts? Did you never see the picture of “we three”?
SIR TOBY
Welcome, ass. Now let’s have a catch.
SIR ANDREW
By my troth, the fool has an excellent breast. I had rather than forty shillings I had such a leg, and so sweet a breath to sing, as the fool has. In sooth, wast in very gracious fooling last night when spok’st of Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians passing the equinoctial of Queubus; very good, i’ faith. I sent sixpence for leman. Hadst it?
CLOWN
I did impeticos gratillity; for Malvolio’s nose is no whipstock. My lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses.
SIR ANDREW
Excellent! Why, this is the best fooling, when all is done. Now, a song.
SIR TOBY
Come on, there is sixpence for you. Let’s have a song.
SIR ANDREW
There’s a testril of me too: if one knight give a—
CLOWN
Would you have a love-song, or a song of good life?
SIR TOBY
A love-song, a love-song.
SIR ANDREW
Ay, ay. I care not for good life.
CLOWN
O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O stay and hear, your true love’s coming,
That can sing both high and low.
Trip no further, pretty sweeting.
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
Every wise man’s son know.
SIR ANDREW
Excellent good, i’ faith.
SIR TOBY
Good, good.
CLOWN
What is love? not hereafter,
Present mirth present laughter.
What’s to come is still unsure.
In delay there lies no plenty,
Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty.
Youth’s a stuff will not endure.
SIR ANDREW
A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight.
SIR TOBY
A contagious breath.
SIR ANDREW
Very sweet and contagious, i’ faith.
SIR TOBY
To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in contagion. But shall we make the welkin dance indeed? Shall we rouse the night-owl in a catch that will draw three souls out of one weaver? Shall we do that?
SIR ANDREW
And you love me, let’s do’t: I am dog at a catch.
CLOWN
By’r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well.
SIR ANDREW
Most certain. Let our catch be, “ .”
CLOWN
“Hold peace, ” knight? I shall be constrain’d in’t to call , knight.
SIR ANDREW
not the first time I have constrained one to call me . Begin, fool; it begins “Hold peace.”
CLOWN
I shall never begin if I hold my peace.
SIR ANDREW
Good, i’ faith! Come, begin.
MARIA
What a caterwauling do you keep here! If my lady have not called up her steward Malvolio, and bid him turn you out of doors, never trust me.
SIR TOBY
My lady’s a Cataian, we are politicians, Malvolio’s a Peg-a-Ramsey, and Three merry men be we. Am not I consanguineous? Am I not of her blood? Tilly-vally! “Lady”! There dwelt a man in Babylon, Lady, Lady.
CLOWN
Beshrew me, the knight’s in admirable fooling.
SIR ANDREW
Ay, he does well enough if he be disposed, and so do I too; he does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural.
SIR TOBY
O’ the twelfth day of December—
MARIA
For the love o’ God, peace!
MALVOLIO
My masters, are you mad? Or what are you? Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty, but to gabble like tinkers at this time of night? Do make an ale-house of my lady’s house, that squeak out your coziers’ catches without any mitigation or remorse of voice? Is there no respect of place, persons, nor time, in you?
SIR TOBY
We did keep time, sir, in our catches. Sneck up!
MALVOLIO
Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My lady bade me tell you that, though she harbours you as her kinsman she’s nothing allied to your disorders. If you can separate yourself and your misdemeanours, you are welcome to the house; if not, and it would please you to take leave of her, she is very willing to bid you farewell.
SIR TOBY
Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be gone.
MARIA
Nay, good Sir Toby.
CLOWN
His eyes do show his days are almost done.
MALVOLIO
Is’t even so?
SIR TOBY
But I will never die.
CLOWN
Sir Toby, there you lie.
MALVOLIO
This is much credit to you.
SIR TOBY
Shall I bid him go?
CLOWN
What and if you do?
SIR TOBY
Shall I bid him go, and spare not?
CLOWN
O, no, no, no, no, you dare not.
SIR TOBY
Out o’ tune? sir, lie. Art any more than a steward? think, because art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?
CLOWN
Yes, by Saint Anne, and ginger shall be hot i’ the mouth too.
SIR TOBY
Th’art i’ the right. Go, sir, rub your chain with crumbs. A stoup of wine, Maria!
MALVOLIO
Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady’s favour at anything more than contempt, you would not give means for this uncivil rule; she shall know of it, by this hand.
MARIA
Go shake your ears.
SIR ANDREW
’Twere as good a deed as to drink when a man’s a-hungry, to challenge him the field, and then to break promise with him and make a fool of him.
SIR TOBY
Do’t, knight. I’ll write a challenge; or I’ll deliver indignation to him by word of mouth.
MARIA
Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for tonight. Since the youth of the Count’s was today with my lady, she is much out of quiet. For Monsieur Malvolio, let me alone with him. If I do not gull him into a nayword, and make him a common recreation, do not think I have wit enough to lie straight in my bed. I know I can do it.
SIR TOBY
Possess us, possess us, tell us something of him.
MARIA
Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of Puritan.
SIR ANDREW
O, if I thought that, I’d beat him like a dog.
SIR TOBY
What, for being a Puritan? exquisite reason, dear knight?
SIR ANDREW
I have no exquisite reason for’t, but I have reason good enough.
MARIA
The devil a Puritan that he is, or anything constantly but a time-pleaser, an affectioned ass that cons state without book and utters it by great swarths; the best persuaded of himself, so crammed (as he thinks) with excellencies, that it is his grounds of faith that all that look on him love him. And on that vice in him will my revenge find notable cause to work.
SIR TOBY
What wilt do?
MARIA
I will drop in his way some obscure epistles of love, wherein by the colour of his beard, the shape of his leg, the manner of his gait, the expressure of his eye, forehead, and complexion, he shall find himself most feelingly personated. I can write very like my lady your niece; on a forgotten matter we can hardly make distinction of our hands.
SIR TOBY
Excellent! I smell a device.
SIR ANDREW
I have’t in my nose too.
SIR TOBY
He shall think, by the letters that wilt drop, that they come from my niece, and that she is in love with him.
MARIA
My purpose is indeed a horse of that colour.
SIR ANDREW
And your horse now would make him an ass.
MARIA
Ass, I doubt not.
SIR ANDREW
O ’twill be admirable!
MARIA
Sport royal, I warrant you. I know my physic will work with him. I will plant you two, and let the fool make a third, where he shall find the letter. Observe his construction of it. For this night, to bed, and dream on the event. Farewell.
SIR TOBY
Good night, Penthesilea.
SIR ANDREW
Before me, she’s a good .
SIR TOBY
She’s a beagle true bred, and one that adores me. What o’ that?
SIR ANDREW
I was adored once too.
SIR TOBY
Let’s to bed, knight. hadst need send for more money.
SIR ANDREW
If I cannot recover your niece, I am a foul way out.
SIR TOBY
Send for money, knight; if her not i’ th’ end, call me cut.
SIR ANDREW
If I do not, never trust me, take it how you will.
SIR TOBY
Come, come, I’ll go burn some sack, too late to go to bed now. Come, knight, come, knight.