SCENE III.-A Room in Olivia's House.
Enter SIR TOBY BELCH and SIR ANDREW

AGUE-CHEEK.

Sir To. Approach, sir Andrew: not to be a-bed after midnight is to be up betimes; and diluculo surgere, thou know'st,

Sir And. Nay, by my troth, I know not: but I know, to be up late is to be up late.

Sir To. 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. Do not our lives consist of the four elements?

Sir And. Faith, so they say; but, I think, it rather consists of eating and drinking.

Sir To. Thou 'rt a scholar; let us therefore eat and drink.-Marian, I say!—a stoop of wine!

Enter Clown.

Sir And. Here comes the fool, i' faith.

Clo. How now, my hearts? Did you never see the picture of we three? a

Sir To. Welcome, ass. Now let's have a catch.

Sir And. 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 Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians passing the equinoctial of Queubus; 't was very good, i' faith. I sent thee sixpence for thy leman: Hadst it? Clo. I did impeticos thy gratillity; for Malvolio's

a "The picture of we three" was a picture, or sign, of Two Fools, upon which was an inscription, we be three, so that the anlucky wight who was tempted to read it supplied" argument for a week, laughter for a month, and a good jest for ever." b Excellent breast-excellent voice.

• Impeticos thy gratillity. This is evidently a touch of the fantastic language which the Clown continually uses.

nose is no whipstock: My lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses.

Sir And. Excellent! Why, this is the best fooling, when all is done. Now, a song.

Sir To. Come on; there is sixpence for you: let 's have a song.

Sir And. There's a testril of me too; if one knight give a

Clo. Would you have a love-song, or a song of good life?

Sir To. A love-song, a love-song.

Sir And. Ay, ay; I care not for good life.

Clo.

SONG.

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 doth know.

Sir And. Excellent good, i' faith.
Sir To. Good, good.

Clo.

What is love? 't is not hereafter;
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,
Youth 's a stuff will not endure.

Sir And. A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight.
Sir To. A contagious breath.

Sir And. Very sweet and contagious, i' faith.

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

Clo. By 'r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well.

Sir And. Most certain: let our catch be, "Thou knave." a

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

Sir And. T is not the first time I have constrained one to call me knave. Begin, fool; it begins, "Hold thy peace."

Clo. I shall never begin, if I hold my peace.

Sir And. Good, i' faith! Come, begin.

Enter MARIA.

[They sing a catch.

Mar. 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 To. My lady's a Cataian, we are politicians; Malvolio's a Peg-a-Ramsay, and "Three merry men be we." Am not I consanguineous? am I not of her blood? Tilly-valley! lady! "There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady, lady!" [Singing.

Clo. Beshrew me, the knight 's in admirable fooling. Sir And. 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 To. "O, the twelfth day of December,”—

Mar. For the love o' God, peace.

Enter MALVOLIO.

[Singing.

Mal. 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 you make an alehouse of my lady's house, that ye squeak out your coziers' catches b without any mitigation or remorse of

a The music of this catch is given in the 'Pictorial' Edition; as also of the old air of Peg-a-Ramsay.'

b Coziers' catches. A cozier is a botcher-whether a tailor or a cobbler is not material.

VOL. III.

K

voice? Is there no respect of place, persons, nor time, in you?

Sir To. We did keep time, sir, in our catches. Sneck up! a

Mal. 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 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 To. "Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be gone."

Mar. Nay, good sir Toby.

Clo.

"His eyes do show his days are almost done."

Mal. Is 't even so?

Sir To. "But I will never die."

Clo. Sir Toby, there you lie.
Mal. This is much credit to you.
Sir To. "Shall I bid him go?"
Clo. "What an if you do?

Sir To. "Shall I bid him go, and spare not?”
Clo. "O no, no, no, no, you dare not."

Sir To. Out o' time? sir, ye lie.-Art any more than a steward? Dost thou think because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?

Clo. Yes, by saint Anne; and ginger shall be hot i' the mouth too.

Sir To. Thou 'rt i' the right.-Go, sir, rub your chain with crumbs: A stoop of wine, Maria!

Mal. Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady's favour at anything more than contempt, you would not give

a Sneck up-hang yourself.

b The old ballad, from which this, and subsequent lines, are quoted, is found in Percy's' Reliques.'

The steward's office of authority was denoted by a chain.

means for this uncivil rule; she shall know of it, by this hand.

Mar. Go shake your ears.

[Exit.

Sir And. 'T were 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 To. Do 't, knight; I'll write thee a challenge; or I'll deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth.

Mar. Sweet sir Toby, be patient for to-night; since the youth of the count's was to-day 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 ĺ have wit enough to lie straight in my bed: I know I can do it.

Sir To. Possess us, possess us;b tell us something of him.

Mar. Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of Puritan. Sir And. O, if I thought that, I'd beat him like a dog. Sir To. What, for being a Puritan? thy exquisite reason, dear knight?

Sir And. I have no exquisite reason for 't, but I have reason good enough.

c

Mar. 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 excellences, that it is his ground 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 To. What wilt thou do?

Mar. I will drop in his way some obscure epistles of love; wherein, by the colour of his beard, the shape of

a Rule-conduct, method of life.

b Possess us-inform us.

Affectioned. Affection is several times used by Shakspere m the sense of affectation.