Twelfth Night

this thy fair and outward character.
I prithee, and I’ll pay thee bounteously,
Conceal me what I am, and be my aid
For such disguise as haply shall become
The form of my intent. I’ll serve this duke:
Thou shall present me as an eunuch to him:
It may be worth thy pains; for I can sing
And speak to him in many sorts of music
That will allow me very worth his service.
What else may hap to time I will commit;
Only shape thou thy silence to my wit. Captain

Be you his eunuch, and your mute I’ll be:
When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see.

Viola I thank thee: lead me on. Exeunt.

Scene III

Olivia’s house.

	Enter Sir Toby Belch and Maria.
Sir Toby	What a plague means my niece, to take the death of her brother thus? I am sure care’s an enemy to life.
Maria	By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier o’ nights: your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions to your ill hours.
Sir Toby	Why, let her except, before excepted.
Maria	Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest limits of order.
Sir Toby	Confine! I’ll confine myself no finer than I am: these clothes are good enough to drink in; and so be these boots too: an they be not, let them hang themselves in their own straps.
Maria	That quaffing and drinking will undo you: I heard my lady talk of it yesterday; and of a foolish knight that you brought in one night here to be her wooer.
Sir Toby	Who, Sir Andrew Aguecheek?
Maria	Ay, he.
Sir Toby	He’s as tall a man as any’s in Illyria.
Maria	What’s that to the purpose?
Sir Toby	Why, he has three thousand ducats a year.
Maria	Ay, but he’ll have but a year in all these ducats: he’s a very fool and a prodigal.
Sir Toby	Fie, that you’ll say so! he plays o’ the viol-de-gamboys, and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature.
Maria	He hath indeed, almost natural: for besides that he’s a fool, he’s a great quarreller; and but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, ’tis thought among the prudent he would quickly have the gift of a grave.
Sir Toby	By this hand, they are scoundrels and substractors that say so of him. Who are they?
Maria	They that add, moreover, he’s drunk nightly in your company.
Sir Toby	With drinking healths to my niece: I’ll drink to her as long as there is a passage in my throat and drink in Illyria: he’s a coward and a coystrill that will not drink to my niece till his brains turn o’ the toe like a parish-top. What, wench! Castiliano vulgo! for here comes Sir Andrew Agueface.
	Enter Sir Andrew Aguecheek.
Sir Andrew	Sir Toby Belch! how now, Sir Toby Belch!
Sir Toby	Sweet Sir Andrew!
Sir Andrew	Bless you, fair shrew.
Maria	And you too, sir.
Sir Toby	Accost, Sir Andrew, accost.
Sir Andrew	What’s that?
Sir Toby	My niece’s chambermaid.
Sir Andrew	Good Mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance.
Maria	My name is Mary, sir.
Sir Andrew	Good Mistress Mary Accost⁠—
Sir Toby	You mistake, knight: “accost” is front her, board her, woo her, assail her.
Sir Andrew	By my troth, I would not undertake her in this company. Is that the meaning of “accost”?
Maria	Fare you well, gentlemen.
Sir Toby	An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, would thou mightst never draw sword again.
Sir Andrew	An you part so, mistress, I would I might never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think you have fools in hand?
Maria	Sir, I have not you by the hand.
Sir Andrew	Marry, but you shall have; and here’s my hand.
Maria	Now, sir, “thought is free:” I pray you, bring your hand to the buttery-bar and let it drink.
Sir Andrew	Wherefore, sweet-heart? what’s your metaphor?
Maria	It’s dry, sir.
Sir Andrew	Why, I think so: I am not such an ass but I can keep my hand dry. But what’s your jest?
Maria	A dry jest, sir.
Sir Andrew	Are you full of them?
Maria	Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers’ ends: marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren. Exit.
Sir Toby	O knight, thou lackest a cup of canary: when did I see thee so put down?
Sir Andrew	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 Toby	No question.
Sir Andrew	An I thought that, I’ld forswear it. I’ll ride home to-morrow, Sir Toby.
Sir Toby	Pourquoi, my dear knight?
Sir Andrew	What is “pourquoi”? 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 followed the arts!
Sir Toby	Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair.
Sir Andrew	Why, would that have mended my hair?
Sir Toby	Past question; for thou seest it will not curl by nature.
Sir Andrew	But it becomes me well enough, does’t not?
Sir Toby	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 Andrew	Faith, I’ll home to-morrow, Sir Toby: your niece will not be seen; or if she be, it’s four to one she’ll none of me: the count himself here hard by woos her.
Sir Toby	She’ll none o’ the count: she’ll not match above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; I have heard her swear’t. Tut, there’s life in’t, man.
Sir Andrew	I’ll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o’ the strangest mind i’ the world; I delight in masques and revels sometimes altogether.
Sir Toby	Art thou good at these kickshawses, knight?
Sir Andrew	As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be, under the degree of my betters; and yet I will not compare with an old