Act 2, Scene III

SCENE III. OLIVIA's house.

Enter SIR TOBY BELCH and SIR ANDREW
SIR TOBY BELCH
Approach, Sir Andrew: not to be abed after
midnight is to be up betimes; and 'diluculo
surgere,' thou know'st,--

SIR ANDREW
Nay, my troth, I know not: but I know, to be up
late is to be up late.

SIR TOBY BELCH
A false conclusion: I hate it as an unfilled 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 ANDREW
Faith, so they say; but I think it rather consists
of eating and drinking.

SIR TOBY BELCH
Thou'rt a scholar; let us therefore eat and drink.
Marian, I say! a stoup of wine!

Enter Clown

SIR ANDREW
Here comes the fool, i' faith.

Clown
How now, my hearts! did you never see the picture
of 'we three'?

SIR TOBY BELCH
Welcome, ass. Now let's have a catch.

SIR ANDREW
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. In
sooth, thou wast in very gracious fooling last
night, when thou spokest of Pigrogromitus, of the
Vapians passing the equinoctial of Queubus: 'twas
very good, i' faith. I sent thee sixpence for thy
leman: hadst it?

Clown
I did impeticos thy gratillity; for Malvolio's nose
is no whipstock: my lady has a white hand, and the
Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses.

SIR ANDREW
Excellent! why, this is the best fooling, when all
is done. Now, a song.

SIR TOBY BELCH
Come on; there is sixpence for you: let's have a song.

SIR ANDREW
There's a testril of me too: if one knight give a--

Clown
Would you have a love-song, or a song of good life?

SIR TOBY BELCH
A love-song, a love-song.

SIR ANDREW
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 ANDREW
Excellent good, i' faith.

SIR TOBY BELCH
Good, good.

Clown
[Sings]
What is love? 'tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What's to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies no plenty;
Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty,
Youth's a stuff will not endure.

SIR ANDREW
A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight.

SIR TOBY BELCH
A contagious breath.

SIR ANDREW
Very sweet and contagious, i' faith.