Sir And.

Sir Toby Belch! how now, Sir Toby Belch?

Sir To.

Sweet Sir Andrew!

Sir And.

Bless you, fair Shrew.

Mar.

And you too, Sir.

Sir To.

Accost, Sir Andrew, accost.

Sir And.

What's that?

Sir To.

My neice's chamber-maid.

Sir And.

Good mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance.

Mar.

My name is Mary, Sir.

Sir And.

Good mistress Mary Accost.

Sir To.

You mistake, Knight: accost is, front her, board her, wooe her, assail 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.

If thou let her part so, Sir Andrew, would thou might'st never draw sword again.

Sir And.

If you part so, mistress, I would I might never draw sword 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 shall 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 so: I am not such an ass, but I can keep my hand dry. But what's your jest?

Mar.

A dry jest, Sir.

Sir And.

Are you full of them?

Mar.

Ay, Sir, I have them at my finger ends: marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren.

Sir To.

O Knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary: when did I see thee so put down?

Sir And.

Never in your life, I think, unless you see canary put me down: methinks sometimes 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.

If I thought that, I'd forswear it. I'll ride home tomorrow, Sir Toby.

Sir To.

Pourquoy, my dear Knight?

Sir And.

What is pourquoy? do, or not do? I would I had bestowed 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 hadst thou had an excellent head of hair.

Sir And.

Why, would that have mended my hair?

Sir To.

Past question, for thou seest it will not cool my 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 housewife take thee between her legs and spin it off.

Sir And.

Faith I'll home to-morrow, Sir Toby, your neice will not be seen, or if she 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, she'll not match above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; I have heard her swear. Tut, there's life in't man.

Sir And.

I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o'th' strangest mind i'th' world: I delight in masks and revels sometimes altogether.

Sir To.

Art thou good at these kick-shaws, 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, simply as strong as any man in Illyria.

Sir To.

Wherefore are these things hid? wherefore have these gifts a curtain before 'em? are they like to take dust, like mistress Mall's picture? why dost thou not go to church in a galliard, and come home in a coranto? my very walk should be a jig! I would not so much as make water but in a sink-a-pace: what dost thou mean? is it a world to hide virtues in? I did think, by the excellent constitution of thy leg, it was form'd under the star of a galliard.

Sir And.

Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent well in a flame-colour'd stocking. Shall we set about some revels?

Sir To.

What shall we do else? were we not born under Taurus?

Sir And.

Taurus? that's sides and heart.

Sir To.

No, Sir, it is legs and thighs. Let me see thee caper; ha, higher: ha, ha, excellent.