Sir To.

Come, Sir Andrew, not to be a-bed after midnight, is to be up betimes, and Diluculo surgere, thou know'st.—

Sir And.

Nay, by my troth, I know not; but I know, to be up late, is to be up late.

Sir To.

A false conclusion; I hate it worse than an unfill'd 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* ^note?

Sir And.

'Faith, so they say, but I think it rather consists of eating and drinking.

Sir To.

Th'art a scholar, let us therefore eat and drink. Maria! I say; a stoop of wine.

Sir And.

Here comes the fool, i'faith.

Clo.

How now, my hearts? did you never see the picture of we three?

Sir To.

Welcome, ass.

Sir And.

By my troth, the fool has an excellent wit. I had rather than forty shillings I had such a leg as the fool has. Insooth 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, had'st it?

Clo.

I did† ^note impeticos thy gratillity; for Malvolio's nose is no whip-stock, my lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no bottle ale houses.

Sir And.

Excellent: why, this is the best fooling, when all is done.

Sir To.

But shall we make the welkin dance, indeed? shall we rouze the night-owl in a catch, that will draw three souls out of one weaver? shall we do that‡ ^note?

Sir And.

An you love me, let's do't: I am a dog at a catch.

Clo.

By'r lady, Sir, and some dogs will catch well.

Sir And.

Begin, fool; it begins, Hold thy peace.

Clo.

I shall never begin, if I hold my peace.

Sir And.

Good, i'faith: why then some thing else, or what you will. Come, begin.