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 fay fo of him. Who are they? Mar. They that add moreover, he's drunk night. ly in your company.

Sir To. With drinking healths to my niece; I'll drink to her, as long as there is 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' the toe like a parish top. What, wench? Caftiliano volgo; for here comes Sir Andrew Ague-face.

Enter Sir ANDrew.

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, fir.

Sir To. Accoft, Sir Andrew, accoft.

Sir And. What's that?

Sir To. My niece's chamber-maid.

Sir And. Good mistress Accoft, I defire better acquaintance.

Mar. My name is Mary, fir.

Sir And. Good Mrs Mary Accost

Sir To. You mistake, knight: accoft, is, front

her, board her, woo her, affail her.

Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake

her

her in this company. Is that the meaning of accoft?

Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen.

Sir To. An thou let part fo, Sir Andrew, 'would thou might'st never draw fword again.

Sir And. An you part fo, mistress, 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 the hand.

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

Mar. Now, fir, thought is free: I pray you, bring your hand to the buttery-bar, and let it drink.

Sir And. Wherefore, fweet heart? what's your metaphor?

Mar. It's dry, fir.

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

Mar. A dry jeft, fir.

Sir And. Are you full of them?

Mar. Ay, fir; I have them at my fingers' ends i marry, now I let go your hand, 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.

B 3

Sir And.

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

Sir To. Porquey, my dear knight?

Sir And. What is porquoy? do, or not do, I would I had beftow'd that time in the tongues, that I have in fencing, dancing, and bear-beating: 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 seest, 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 fee a housewife take thee between her legs, and fpin it off.

Sir Aud. 'Faith, I'll home to-morrow, Sir Toby: your niece will not be feen; or, if the be, it's four to one he'll none of me: the count himself, here hard by, woes her.

Sir To. She'll none o'the count; 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 stay a month longer. I am a felJow o' the frangeft mind i' the world; I delight in mafques and revels fometimes altogether.

Sir To. Art thou good at thefe kick-flaws, knight?

Sir And. 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 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? wherefore have thefe gifts a curtain before them? are they like to take duft, like mistress Mall's picture? why doft thou not go to church in a galliard, and come home in a coranto? my very walk fhould be a jigg; 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 formed under the ftar of a galliard.

Sir And. Ay, 'tis ftrong, and it does indifferent well in a flame-colour'd ftock. 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, fir; it is legs and thighs.

thee caper: ha! higher: ha, ha

Let me fee excellent! [Exeunt.

SCENE IV. The Palace.

Enter VALENTINE, and VIOLA in Man's attire.

Val. If the duke continue thefe 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

gence that you call in question the continuance of his love: Is he inconstant, fir, in his favours? Val. No, believe me.

Enter Duke, CURIO, and Attendants.

Vio. I thank you. Here comes the count.
Duke. Who faw Cefario, ho?

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 even of my fecret foul:
Therefore, good youth, addrefs thy gait unto her;
Be not deny'd access, 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.

Vio. Say, I do fpeak with her, my lord, what then?

Duke. O, then, unfold the paffion of my love, Surprize her with difcourfe of my dear faith: It fhall become thee well to act my woes; She will attend it better in thy youth, Than in a nuncio of more grave aspect. Vio. I think not so, 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 small pipe
Is as the maiden's organ, fhrill and found,

And all is femblative a woman's part.

I know,