Prescanned Shakespeare.com
presented by Acoustic Learning
OLIVIA's house.
[Enter SIR TOBY BELCH and SIR ANDREW]
SIR TOBY BELCH
Approach Sir Andrew: not to be abed after midnight, is to be up betimes, and
diluculo surgere, thou knowst.
SIR ANDREW
Nay my troth I know not: but I know, to be up late, is to be up late.
SIR TOBY BELCH
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 life consist of the four elements?
SIR ANDREW
Faith so they say, but I think it rather consists of eating and drinking.
SIR TOBY BELCH
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 in faith.
CLOWN
How now my hearts: did you never see the picture of we three?
SIR TOBY BELCH
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 spokst
of Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians passing the equinoctial of Queubus: 'twas
very good in 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 are no bottle-ale houses.
SIR ANDREW
Excellent: why this is the best fooling, when all is done. Now a song.
SIR TOBY BELCH
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 BELCH
A love song, a love song.
SIR ANDREW
Aye, aye. I care not for good life.
CLOWN [Sings]
, , ,
, o
O mist|ress mine,| where are | you roam|ing?
,
, ,
, o
O stay | and hear,| your true | love's^com|ing,
, ,
, ___
That can | sing both | high and | low.
, ,
, ,
Trip no | further,| pretty | sweeting,
, , ,
,
Journeys | end in | lovers | meeting,
, T
T T
,
Every | wise man's son | doth know.
SIR ANDREW
Excellent good, in faith.
SIR TOBY BELCH
Good, good.
CLOWN
[Sings]
,
, ,
,
What is | love, 'tis | not here|after,
,
, ,
,
Present | mirth, hath | present | laughter:
,
, , __
What's to | come is | still un|sure:
, ,
, ,
In de|lay there | lies no | plenty,
,
, , ,
Then come | kiss me | sweet and | twenty:
,
, ,
__
Youth's a | stuff will | not en|dure.
SIR ANDREW
A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight.
SIR TOBY BELCH
A contagious breath.
SIR ANDREW
Very sweet, and contagious in faith.
SIR TOBY BELCH
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 it: I am dog at a catch.
CLOWN
By our lady sir, and some dogs will catch well.
SIR ANDREW
Most certain: Let our catch be, Thou Knave.
CLOWN
Hold thy peace, thou knave knight. I shall be constrained in it, 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.
CLOWN
I shall never begin if I hold my peace.
SIR ANDREW
Good in 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 BELCH
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:
Tillyvally. Lady, [Sings] There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady, lady.
CLOWN
Beshrew me, the knight's in admirable fooling.
SIR ANDREW
Aye, 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 BELCH
[Sings] O the twelfth day of December.
MARIA
For the love of God peace.
[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 place,
persons, nor time in you?
SIR TOBY BELCH
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 harbors 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, and it would please you to take leave of her, she is very
willing to bid you farewell.
SIR TOBY BELCH
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 it even so?
SIR TOBY BELCH
But I will never die.
CLOWN
Sir Toby there you lie.
MALVOLIO
This is much credit to you.
SIR TOBY BELCH
Shall I bid him go.
CLOWN
What and if you do?
SIR TOBY BELCH
Shall I bid him go, and spare not?
CLOWN
O no, no, no, no, you dare not.
SIR TOBY BELCH
Out of tune sir, ye lie: Art any more than a steward? 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 in the mouth too.
SIR TOBY BELCH
Thou'rt in the right. Go sir, rub your chain with crumbs. A stoup of
wine Maria.
MALVOLIO
Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady's favor 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 BELCH
Do it 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 thy 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 BELCH
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 BELCH
What for being a puritan, thy exquisite reason, dear knight.
SIR ANDREW
I have no exquisite reason for it, 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 BELCH
What wilt thou do?
MARIA
I will drop in his way some obscure epistles of love, wherein by the color
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 BELCH
Excellent, I smell a device.
SIR ANDREW
I have it in my nose too.
SIR TOBY BELCH
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 color.
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 BELCH
Good night Penthesilea.
SIR ANDREW
Before me she's a good wench.
SIR TOBY BELCH
She's a beagle true-bred, and one that adores me: what of that?
SIR ANDREW
I was adored once too.
SIR TOBY BELCH
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 BELCH
Send for money knight, if thou hast her not in the end, call me cut.
SIR ANDREW
If I do not, never trust me, take it how you will.
SIR TOBY BELCH
Come, come, I'll go burn some sack, 'tis too late to go to bed now: come
knight, come knight.
[Exeunt]