[OLIVIA'S house.]
Enter SIR TOBY BELCH and MARIA
SIR TOBY BELCH
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 BELCH
Why, let her except, before excepted.
MARIA
Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest
limits of order.
SIR TOBY BELCH
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 BELCH
Who, Sir Andrew Aguecheek?
MARIA
Ay, he.
SIR TOBY BELCH
He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria.
MARIA
What's that to the purpose?
SIR TOBY BELCH
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 BELCH
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 BELCH
By this hand, they are scoundrels and subtractors
that say so of him. Who are they?
MARIA
They that add, moreover, he's drunk nightly in your company.
SIR TOBY BELCH
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
SIR ANDREW
Sir Toby Belch! how now, Sir Toby Belch!
SIR TOBY BELCH
Sweet Sir Andrew!
SIR ANDREW
YOU ARE READING
Twelfth Night
Romance"Twelfth Night; or, What You Will" is a comedy by William Shakespeare, believed to have been written around 1601-02 as a Twelfth Night's entertainment for the close of the Christmas season. Viola is shipwrecked on the coast of Illyria and she comes...
