Andrew.
Sir To.
Approach 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 as 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?
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.
Enter Clown.
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, now let's have a catch.
Sir And.
By my troth, the fool has an excellent breast. I
had rather than forty shillings I had such a leg, and so sweet a
breath to sing, 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 six pence for thy lemon, hadst it?
Clo.
I did impeticos thy gratillity; for Malvolio's nose is no
whip-stock. My lady has a white hand, and the Mirmidons are
no bottle-ale houses.
-- 490 --
Sir And.
Excellent: why this is the best fooling, when all is
done. Now a song.
Sir To.
Come on, there is six pence for you. Let's have a song.
Sir And.
There's a testril of me too; if one Knight give a—
Clo.
Would you have a love-song, or a song of good life?
Sir To.
A love-song, a love-song.
Sir And.
Ay, ay, I care not for good life.
Clown sings.
O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O stay and hear, your true love's coming,
That can sing both high and low.
Trip no further, pretty sweeting,
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
Every wise man's son doth know.
Sir And.
Excellent good, 'faith.
Sir To.
Good, good.
Clo.
What is love? 'tis not hereafter:
Present mirth hath present laughter:
What's to come, is still unsure.
In delay there lyes no plenty,
Then come kiss me sweet and twenty:
Youth's a stuff will not endure.
Sir And.
A mellifluous voice, as I am a true Knight.
Sir To.
A contagious breath.
Sir And.
Very sweet and contagious, i'faith.
Sir To.
To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in contagion. 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?
Sir And.
An you love me, let's do't: I am a dog at a catch.
-- 491 --
Clo.
Byr lady, Sir, and some dogs will catch well.
Sir And.
Most certain: let our catch be, Thou knave.
Clo.
Hold thy peace, thou knave, Knight. I shall be constrain'd
in't, to call thee knave, Knight.
Sir And.
'Tis not the first time I have constrain'd one to call
me knave. Begin, fool; it begins, Hold thy peace.
Clo.
I shall never begin, if I hold my peace.
Sir And.
Good i'faith: come, begin.
[They sing a catch.
George Sewell [1723–5], The works of Shakespear in six [seven] volumes. Collated and Corrected by the former Editions, By Mr. Pope ([Vol. 7] Printed by J. Darby, for A. Bettesworth [and] F. Fayram [etc.], London) [word count] [S11101].
