Mar.

Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will not open my lips so wide, as a bristle may enter, in way of thy excuse; 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 shall see none to fear.

Mar.

A good lenten* ^note answer: I can tell thee where that saying was born, of, I fear no colours.

Clo.

Where, good mistress Mary?

Mar.

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

Clo.

Well, heaven give them wisdom, that have it; and those that are fools, let them use their talents.

Mar.

Yet you will be hang'd for being so long absent, or be turn'd away; is not that as good as a hanging to you?

Clo.

Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage! and for turning away, let summer bear it out.

Mar.

You are resolute, then?

Clo.

Not so, neither, but I am resolv'd on two points.

Mar.

That if one break, the other will hold; or, if both break, your gaskins† ^note fall.

Clo.

Apt, in good faith, very apt: well, go thy way; if Sir Toby would leave drinking, thou wert as witty a piece of Eve's flesh, as any in Illyria.

Mar.

Peace, you rogue, no more o'that: here comes my lady; make your excuse wisely; you were best.