Twelfth Night (Modern)
Not Peer Reviewed
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1.3
¶Sir Toby What a plague means my niece to take the 120death of her brother thus! I am sure care's an enemy to ¶life.
¶Maria By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier ¶a-nights. Your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions ¶to your ill hours.
125Sir Toby Why let her except, before excepted.
¶Sir Toby Confine? I'll confine myself no finer than I am! ¶These clothes are good enough to drink in, and so be 130these boots too; an they be not, let them hang ¶themselves in their own straps.
¶Maria 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 wooer.
135Sir Toby Who, Sir Andrew Aguecheek?
¶Maria Ay, he.
¶Sir Toby He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria.
¶Maria What's that to th'purpose?
¶Sir Toby Why, he has three thousand ducats a year.
¶Sir Toby Fie that you'll say so! He plays o'th'viol-de-gamboys, ¶and speaks three or four languages word for word ¶without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature.
145Maria He hath indeed, all most natural. For besides that ¶he's a fool, he's a great quarreler; and but that he hath ¶the gift of a coward, to allay the gust he hath in ¶quarreling, 'tis thought among the prudent he would quickly ¶have the gift of a grave.
¶Sir Toby With drinking healths to my niece! I'll drink 155to her as long as there is a passage in my throat, and drink ¶in Illyria. He's a coward and a coistrel that will not ¶drink to my niece till his brains turn o'th'toe, like a ¶parish top.
160
Enter Sir Andrew.
¶Sir Andrew Sir Toby Belch! How now, Sir Toby Belch!
¶Sir Toby Sweet Sir Andrew!
¶Sir Andrew Bless you, fair shrew.
¶Maria And you too, sir.
165Sir Toby Accost, Sir Andrew, accost!
¶Sir Andrew What's that?
¶Sir Toby My niece's chambermaid.
¶Sir Andrew Good Mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance.
¶Maria My name is Mary, sir.
170Sir Andrew Good Mistress Mary Accost--
¶Sir Toby [Aside to Sir Andrew] You mistake, knight. "Accost" is front her, board ¶her, woo her, assail her.
¶Sir Andrew [Aside to Sir Toby, indicating audience] By my troth, I would not undertake her in this ¶company. Is that the meaning of "accost"?
175Maria Fare you well, gentlemen.
¶Sir Toby [Aside to Sir Andrew] An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, would thou ¶might'st never draw sword again.
¶Sir Andrew An you part so, mistress, I would I might never ¶draw sword again! Fair lady, do you think you have 180fools in hand?
¶Maria Sir, I have not you by th'hand.
¶Sir Andrew Marry, but you shall have, and here's my hand.
¶Maria [Taking his hand] Now sir, thought is free. I pray you, bring your ¶hand to th'buttery bar, and let it drink.
¶Maria It's dry, sir.
¶Sir Andrew Why, I think so. I am not such an ass but I ¶can keep my hand dry. But what's your jest?
190Maria A dry jest, sir.
¶Sir Andrew Are you full of them?
¶Maria Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers' ends. [Letting go his hand] Marry, now ¶I let go your hand, I am barren.
Exit Maria.
¶Sir Toby O knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary. [Pouring wine] When did 195I see thee so put down?
¶Sir Andrew 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 200to my wit.
¶Sir Toby No question.
205Sir Andrew What is pourquoi? "Do," or "not do"? I would I had ¶bestowed that time in the tongues that I have in fencing, ¶dancing, and bear-baiting. O had I but followed the ¶arts!
¶Sir Toby Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair.
210Sir Andrew Why, would that have mended my hair?
¶Sir Toby Past question, for thou see'st it will not curl by nature.
¶Sir Andrew But it becomes me well enough, dost not?
¶Sir Toby Excellent! It hangs like flax on a distaff; and I hope ¶to see a housewife take thee between her legs, and spin it off.
215Sir Andrew Faith, I'll home tomorrow, 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 woos her.
¶Sir Toby She'll none o'th'count. She'll not match above her ¶degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; I have heard her 220swear't. Tut, there's life in't, man.
¶Sir Andrew I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o'th' ¶strangest mind i'th'world. I delight in masques and ¶revels sometimes altogether.
¶Sir Toby Art thou good at these kickshawses, knight?
225Sir Andrew 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 Toby What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight?
¶Sir Andrew Faith, I can cut a caper.
[He dances.]
230Sir Toby And I can cut the mutton to it.
[He demonstrates.]
¶Sir Toby Wherefore are these things hid? Wherefore have ¶these gifts a curtain before 'em? Are they like to take 235dust, like Mistress Moll's picture? Why dost 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 cinquepace! What dost thou ¶mean! Is it a world to hide virtues in? I did think by 240the excellent constitution of thy leg, it was formed ¶under the star of a galliard.
¶Sir Andrew Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent well in a ¶flame-colored stock. Shall we set about some revels?
¶Sir Andrew Taurus? That's sides and heart.
[Sir Andrew dances.]
Ha, higher! Ha, ha, excellent!
Exeunt.
