Act 1, Scene III - Page 2

SIR TOBY BELCH
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 BELCH
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 BELCH
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 BELCH
No question.

SIR ANDREW
An I thought that, I'ld forswear it. I'll ride home
to-morrow, Sir Toby.

SIR TOBY BELCH
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 BELCH
Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair.

SIR ANDREW
Why, would that have mended my hair?

SIR TOBY BELCH
Past question; for thou seest it will not curl by nature.

SIR ANDREW
But it becomes me well enough, does't not?

SIR TOBY BELCH
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 BELCH
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