Scene III

Olivia's house

[Enter Sir Toby and Sir Andrew.]

SIR TOBY:

Approach, Sir Andrew: not to be abed after midnight
is to be up betimes; and ‘diluculo surgere,’ thou 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(5)
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. Do not our
lives consist of the four elements?

SIR ANDREW:

Faith, so they say; but I think it rather consists of
eating and drinking.(10)

SIR TOBY:

Thou'rt a scholar; let us therefore eat and drink.
Marian, I say! a stoup of wine!

[Enter Clown]

SIR ANDREW:

Here comes the fool, i' faith.

CLOWN:

How now, my hearts. Did you never see the picture
of ‘we three’?(15)

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, thou wast
in very gracious fooling last night, when thou spokest of(20)
Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians passing the equinoctial of
Queubus; 'twas very good, i' faith. I sent thee sixpence
for thy leman: hadst it?

CLOWN:

I did impeticos thy gratillity; for Malvolio's nose is no
whipstock: my lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons(25)
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.(30)

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.(35)

CLOWN:

[sings]

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;(40)
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
Every wise man's son doth know.

SIR ANDREW:

Excellent good, i' faith.

SIR TOBY:

Good, good.

CLOWN:

What is love? 'tis not hereafter;(45)
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What's to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies no plenty;
Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty,(50)
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(55)
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:

An you love me, let's do't: I am dog at a catch.

CLOWN:

By'r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well.(60)

SIR ANDREW:

Most certain. Let our catch be, ‘Thou knave.’

CLOWN:

‘Hold thy peace, thou knave’ knight? I shall be constrained
in't to call thee knave, knight.

SIR ANDREW:

'Tis not the first time I have constrained one to call
me knave. Begin, fool; it begins ‘Hold thy peace.’(65)

CLOWN:

I shall never begin if I hold my peace.

SIR ANDREW:

Good, i' faith! Come, begin.

[They sing a catch.]

[Enter Maria.]

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.(70)

SIR TOBY:

My lady's a Cataian, we are politicians; Malvolio's a
Peg-a-Ramsey, and [Singing.] ‘Three merry men be we.’Am
not I consanguineous? am I not of her blood? Tillyvalley,
Lady! [sings] ‘There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady, lady.’

CLOWN:

Beshrew me, the knight's in admirable fooling.(75)

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:

[Sings]

‘O, the twelfth day of December,’—

MARIA:

For the love o' God, peace!(80)

[Enter Malvolio.]

MALVOLIO:

My masters, are you mad? or what are you? Have ye
no wit, manners, nor honesty, but to gabble like tinkers
at this time of night? Do ye make an alehouse of my lady's
house, that ye squeak out your coziers' catches without
any mitigation or remorse of voice? Is there no respect of(85)
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(90)
separate yourself and your misdemeanors, you are welcome
to the house; if not, an 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.(95)

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.(100)

SIR TOBY:

‘Shall I bid him go?’

CLOWN:

‘What an 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: ye lie. Art any more than a steward?(105)
Dost thou think, because thou 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:

Thou'rt 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.(115)