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 knowest –
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?
element (n.) 1 (plural) substances from which all material things are made [believed to be earth, water, air, fire]
SIR ANDREW
Faith, so they say; but I think it rather consists
of eating and drinking.
SIR TOBY
Thou'rt a scholar. Let us therefore eat and
drink. Marian, I say! A stoup of wine!
Enter Feste
SIR ANDREW
Here comes the fool, i'faith.
FESTE
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
leg (n.) 1 bending of a knee, genuflection, obeisance
sweet a breath to sing, as the fool has. In sooth, thou
wast in very gracious fooling last night, when thou
spok'st of Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians passing the
equinoctial of Queubus. 'Twas very good, i'faith. I sent
thee sixpence for thy leman, hadst it?
FESTE
I did impetticoat thy 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 –
FESTE
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.
FESTE
(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;
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
Every wise man's son doth know.
SIR ANDREW
Excellent good, i'faith.
SIR TOBY
Good, good.
FESTE
(sings)
What is love? 'Tis 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,
twenty, and [ballad catch phrase, used as an intensifer] and many more
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
An you love me, let's do't. I am dog at a
catch.
FESTE
By'r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well.
SIR ANDREW
Most certain. Let our catch be ‘ Thou
knave.’
FESTE
‘ 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 (he sings)
‘ Hold thy peace – ’
FESTE
I shall never begin if I hold my peace.
SIR ANDREW
Good, i'faith. Come, begin!
Catch sung. 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.
SIR TOBY
My lady's a – Cataian; we are – politicians;
Malvolio's a – Peg-a-Ramsey; and (he sings)
Three merry men be we!
Am not I consanguineous? Am I not of her blood?
Tilly-vally! ‘ Lady ’! (He sings)
There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady, lady –
FESTE
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
(sings)
O' the twelfth day of December –
MARIA
For the love o' God, peace!
Enter Malvolio
MALVOLIO
My masters, are you mad? Or what are you?
Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty, but to gabble
wit (n.) 1 intelligence, wisdom, good sense, mental ability
like tinkers at this time of night? Do ye make an ale-house
of my lady's house, that ye 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, an it would please you to
take leave of her, she is very willing to bid you farewell.
SIR TOBY
(sings)
Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be gone –
MARIA
Nay, good Sir Toby!
FESTE
(sings)
His eyes do show his days are almost done –
MALVOLIO
Is't even so!
SIR TOBY
(sings)
But I will never die –
FESTE
(sings)
Sir Toby, there you lie –
MALVOLIO
This is much credit to you!
SIR TOBY
(sings)
Shall I bid him go?
FESTE
(sings)
What an if you do?
SIR TOBY
(sings)
Shall I bid him go and spare not?
FESTE
(sings)
O no, no, no, no, you dare not!
SIR TOBY
Out o' tune, sir, ye lie. (To Malvolio) Art any
more than a steward? Dost thou think, because thou art
virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?
FESTE
Yes, by Saint Anne, and ginger shall be hot i'the
mouth, too.
SIR TOBY
Th' art i'the right. (To Malvolio) 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!
Exit
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 thee a challenge; or I'll
deliver thy 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
wit (n.) 1 intelligence, wisdom, good sense, mental ability
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? Thy 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 swathes; 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 thou 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 thou wilt
drop that they come from my niece, and that she's 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.
Exit
SIR TOBY
Good night, Penthesilea.
SIR ANDREW
Before me, she's a good wench.
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. Thou 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 thou hast her not
i'the 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, 'tis too
late to go to bed now. Come, knight; come, knight.
Exeunt