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Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all thefe ducats: he's a very fool and a prodigal.

Sir To. Fy, that you'll fay fo! he plays o' th' violdegambo, and fpeaks three or four languages word for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature.

Mar. He hath, indeed,-almost natural; for befides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller; and but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the guft he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought, among the prudent, he would quickly have the gift of a grave. Sir To. By this hand they are fcoundrels and fubtractors that say so of him. Who are they? Mar. They that add, moreover, he's drunk nightly in your company.

Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece: I'll drink to her as long as there's a paffage in my throat, and drink in Illyria. He's a coward, and a coyftril, that will not drink to my niece 'till his brains turn o' th' toe, like a parish-top. What, wench? Caftiliano Volgo*; for here comes Sir Andrew Ague-cheek.

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Sir And. Sir Toby Belch! how now, Sir Toby Belch?

Sir To. Sweet Sir Andrew!

Sir And. Blefs you, fair fhrew.

Mar. And you too, Sir.

Sir To. Accoft, Sir Andrew, accost

Sir And. What's that?

Sir To. My niece's chamber-maid.

Sir And. Good Mistress Accost, I defire better acquaintance.

Mar. My name is Mary, Sir.

Sir And. Good Miftrefs Mary Accost,

* We should read volto. In English, put on your Caftilian countenance; that is, your grave, folemn looks. Warburton.

Sir To. You mistake, knight: accoft is, front her, board her, wooe her, aflail her.

Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake her in this company. Is that the meaning of accost? Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen.

Sir To. An thou let her part fo, Sir Andrew, would thou might'it never draw a fword again. Sir And. An you part so, miftrefs, I would I might never draw fword again. Fair lady, do you think you have fools in hand?

Mar. Sir, I have not you by th' hand.

Sir And. Marry but you fhall have, and here's my hand.

Mar. Now, Sir, thought is free: I pray you bring your hand to th' buttery-bar, and let it drink. Sir And. Wherefore, sweet heart? what's your metaphor?

Mar. It's dry, Sir.

Sir And. Why, I think fo: I am not such an afs but I can keep my hand dry. But what's your jeft? Mar. A dry jeft, Sir.

Sir And. Are you full of them?

Mar. Ay, Sir, I have them at my fingers ends : marry, now I let your hand go, I am barren. [Exit Maria. Sir To. O knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary: when did I fee thee fo put down?

Sir And. Never in your life, I think, unless you fee canary put me down. Methinks, fometimes 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 to my wit.

Sir To. No question.

Sir And. An I thought that, I'd forfwear it. I'll ride home to-morrow, Sir Toby.

Sir To. Pourquoy, my dear knight.

Sir And. What is pourquoy? do, or not do? I would I had beftowed that time in the tongues that I have in fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting. O, had I but follow'd the arts!

Sir To. Then hadft thou had an excellent head of hair.

Sir And Why, would that have mended my hair? Sir To. Paft queftion; for thou feeft it will not curl by nature.

Sir And. But it becomes me well enough, does't not?

Sir To. Excellent! it hangs like flax on a distaff; and I hope to see a house-wife take thee between her legs, and fpin it off.

Sir And. Faith, I'll home to morrow, Sir Toby; your neice will not be feen, or, if the be, it's four to one she'll none of me: the Duke himself here, hard by, wooes her.

Sir To. She'll none o'th' Duke; fhe'll not match above her degree, neither in eftate, years, nor wit; I have heard her fwear it. Tut, there's life in't,.

man.

Sir And. I'll ftay a month longer. I am a fellow o'th' ftrangest mind i'th' world: I delight in masks and revels fometimes altogether.

Sir To. Art thou good at these kick-fhaws, knight? Sir And. As any man in Illyria, whatfoever he be, under the degree of my betters; and yet I will not compare with an old man.

Sir To. What, is thy excellence in a galliard, knight?

Sir And. Faith I can cut a caper.

Sir To. And I can cut the mutton to't.

Sir And. And, I think, I have the back-trick fimply as ftrong as any man in Illyria.

Sir To. Wherefore are these things hid? where-fore have the e gifts a curtain before them? are they like to take duft, like Mistress Mall's picture? why dost thou not go to church in a galliard, and come home in a coranto? my very walk fhould be. a jig! I would not fo much as make water, but in a fink-a-pace! what 'doft thou mean? is it a world to hide virtues in? I did think, by the excellent conftitution of thy leg, it was form'd under the star of a galliard.

Sir And. Ay, 'tis ftrong, and it does indifferent well in a flame-colour'd stocking. Shall we fet about fome revels?

Sir To. What fhall we do elfe? were we not born under Taurus ?

Sir And. Taurus? that's fides and heart *.

Sir To. No, Sir, it is legs and thighs. Let me fee thee caper; ha! higher: ha, ha!

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-excellent.
[Exeunt.

Enter Valentine, and Viola in Man's Attire.

Val. If the Duke continue these favours towards you, Cefario, you are like to be much advanc'd; he hath known you but three days, and already you are no ftranger.

Vio. You either fear his humour, or my negli gence, that you call in queftion the continuance of his love. Is he inconftant, Sir, in his favours? Kal. No, believe me.

Enter Duke, Curio, and Attendants. Vio. I thank you: here comes the Duke.. Duke. Who faw Cefario. hoa?

Vio. On your attendance, my Lord, here.. Duke. Stand you a-while aloof.-Cefario, Thou know'ft no lefs, but all: I have unclafp'd To thee the book ev'n of my fecret foul: Therefore, good youth, addrefs thy gait unto her; Be not deny'd accefs, ftand at her doors, And tell them, there thy fixed foot fhall grow, 'Till thou have audience.

Vio. Sure, my noble Lord,

If the be fo abandon'd to her forrow
As it is fpoke, fhe never will admit me.

Duke. Be clamorous, and leap all civil bounds, Rather than make unprofited return.

Alluding to the medical aftrology ftill preferved in almanacks, which refers the affections of particular parts of the body, to the predominance of particular conftel• lations. Johnfon.

Vio. Say I do fpeak with her, my Lord; what then?
Duke. O, then, unfold the pallion of my love,
Surprize her with difcourfe of my dear faith;
It hall become thee well to act my woes;
She will attend it better in thy youth,
Than in a nuncio of more grave afpect.
Vio. I think not fo, my Lord.
Duke. Dear lad, believe it:

For they fhall yet belie thy happy years,
That fay thou art a man: Diana's lip

Is not more smooth and rubious; thy fmall pipe
Is as the maiden's organ, fhrill, and found,
And all is femblative-a woman's part.

I know thy conftellation is right apt

For this affair.- -Some four or five attend him;
All, if you will; for I myself am best

When leaft in company. Profper well in this,
And thou fhalt live as freely as thy Lord,

To call his fortunes thine.

Vio. I'll do my best

To woo your Lady; [Exit Duke.] yet, O baneful ftrife!

Whoe'er I woo, my self would be his wife. [Exeunt.

S CE NE VI.

Changes to Olivia's Houfe.

Enter Maria and Clown.

Mar. Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will not open my lips fo wide as a briftle may enter, in way of thy excufe; my Lady will hang thee for thy absence.

Clo. Let her hang me; he that is well hang'd in this world, needs fear no colours. Mar. Make that good.

Clo. He fhall fee none to fear.

Mar. A good lenten answer: I can tell thee where that faying was born, of, I fear no colours. Clo. Where, good Mistress Mary?

Mar. In the wars, and that may you be bold to fay in your foolery.

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