SCENE III. OLIVIA's house. Twelfth Night  Shakespeare homepage  |  Twelfth Night  | Act 2, Scene 3 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene  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. 

 SIR TOBY BELCH  To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in contagion. 

 But shall we make the welkin dance indeed? shall we 

 rouse the night-owl in a catch that will draw three 

 souls out of one weaver? shall we do that? 

 SIR ANDREW  An you love me, let's do't: I am dog at a catch. 

 Clown  By'r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well. 

 SIR ANDREW  Most certain. Let our catch be, 'Thou knave.' 

 Clown  'Hold thy peace, thou knave,' knight? I shall be 

 constrained in't to call thee knave, knight. 

 SIR ANDREW  'Tis not the first time I have constrained one to 

 call me knave. Begin, fool: it begins 'Hold thy peace.' 

 Clown  I shall never begin if I hold my peace. 

 SIR ANDREW  Good, i' faith. Come, begin. 



 Catch sung 

 Enter MARIA  MARIA  What a caterwauling do you keep here! If my lady 

 have not called up her steward Malvolio and bid him 

 turn you out of doors, never trust me. 

 SIR TOBY BELCH  My lady's a Cataian, we are politicians, Malvolio's 

 a Peg-a-Ramsey, and 'Three merry men be we.' Am not 

 I consanguineous? am I not of her blood? 

 Tillyvally. Lady! 



 Sings  'There dwelt a man in Babylon, lady, lady!' 

 Clown  Beshrew me, the knight's in admirable fooling. 

 SIR ANDREW  Ay, he does well enough if he be disposed, and so do 

 I too: he does it with a better grace, but I do it 

 more natural. 

 SIR TOBY BELCH  [Sings]  'O, the twelfth day of December,'-- 

 MARIA  For the love o' God, peace! 



 Enter MALVOLIO  MALVOLIO  My masters, are you mad? or what are you? Have ye 

 no wit, manners, nor honesty, but to gabble like 

 tinkers at this time of night? Do ye make an 

 alehouse of my lady's house, that ye squeak out your 

 coziers' catches without any mitigation or remorse 

 of voice? Is there no respect of place, persons, nor 

 time in you? 

 SIR TOBY BELCH  We did keep time, sir, in our catches. Sneck up! 

 MALVOLIO  Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My lady bade me 

 tell you, that, though she harbours you as her 

 kinsman, she's nothing allied to your disorders. If 

 you can separate yourself and your misdemeanors, you 

 are welcome to the house; if not, an it would please 

 you to take leave of her, she is very willing to bid 

 you farewell. 

 SIR TOBY BELCH  'Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be gone.' 

 MARIA  Nay, good Sir Toby. 

 Clown  'His eyes do show his days are almost done.' 

 MALVOLIO  Is't even so? 

 SIR TOBY BELCH  'But I will never die.' 

 Clown  Sir Toby, there you lie. 

 MALVOLIO  This is much credit to you. 

 SIR TOBY BELCH  'Shall I bid him go?' 

 Clown  'What an if you do?' 

 SIR TOBY BELCH  'Shall I bid him go, and spare not?' 

 Clown  'O no, no, no, no, you dare not.' 

 SIR TOBY BELCH  Out o' tune, sir: ye lie. Art any more than a 

 steward? Dost thou think, because thou art 

 virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale? 

 Clown  Yes, by Saint Anne, and ginger shall be hot i' the 

 mouth too. 

 SIR TOBY BELCH  Thou'rt i' the right. Go, sir, rub your chain with 

 crumbs. A stoup of wine, Maria! 

 MALVOLIO  Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady's favour at any 

 thing more than contempt, you would not give means 

 for this uncivil rule: she shall know of it, by this hand. 



 Exit  MARIA  Go shake your ears. 

 SIR ANDREW  'Twere as good a deed as to drink when a man's 

 a-hungry, to challenge him the field, and then to 

 break promise with him and make a fool of him. 

 SIR TOBY BELCH  Do't, knight: I'll write thee a challenge: or I'll 

 deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth. 

 MARIA  Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for tonight: since the 

 youth of the count's was today with thy lady, she is 

 much out of quiet. For Monsieur Malvolio, let me 

 alone with him: if I do not gull him into a 

 nayword, and make him a common recreation, do not 

 think I have wit enough to lie straight in my bed: 

 I know I can do it. 

 SIR TOBY BELCH  Possess us, possess us; tell us something of him. 

 MARIA  Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of puritan. 

 SIR ANDREW  O, if I thought that I'ld beat him like a dog! 

 SIR TOBY BELCH  What, for being a puritan? thy exquisite reason, 

 dear knight? 

 SIR ANDREW  I have no exquisite reason for't, but I have reason 

 good enough. 

 MARIA  The devil a puritan that he is, or any thing 

 constantly, but a time-pleaser; an affectioned ass, 

 that cons state without book and utters it by great 

 swarths: the best persuaded of himself, so 

 crammed, as he thinks, with excellencies, that it is 

 his grounds of faith that all that look on him love 

 him; and on that vice in him will my revenge find 

 notable cause to work. 

 SIR TOBY BELCH  What wilt thou do? 

 MARIA  I will drop in his way some obscure epistles of 

 love; wherein, by the colour of his beard, the shape 

 of his leg, the manner of his gait, the expressure 

 of his eye, forehead, and complexion, he shall find 

 himself most feelingly personated. I can write very 

 like my lady your niece: on a forgotten matter we 

 can hardly make distinction of our hands. 

 SIR TOBY BELCH  Excellent! I smell a device. 

 SIR ANDREW  I have't in my nose too. 

 SIR TOBY BELCH  He shall think, by the letters that thou wilt drop, 

 that they come from my niece, and that she's in 

 love with him. 

 MARIA  My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour. 

 SIR ANDREW  And your horse now would make him an ass. 

 MARIA  Ass, I doubt not. 

 SIR ANDREW  O, 'twill be admirable! 

 MARIA  Sport royal, I warrant you: I know my physic will 

 work with him. I will plant you two, and let the 

 fool make a third, where he shall find the letter: 

 observe his construction of it. For this night, to 

 bed, and dream on the event. Farewell. 



 Exit  SIR TOBY BELCH  Good night, Penthesilea. 

 SIR ANDREW  Before me, she's a good wench. 

 SIR TOBY BELCH  She's a beagle, true-bred, and one that adores me: 

 what o' that? 

 SIR ANDREW  I was adored once too. 

 SIR TOBY BELCH  Let's to bed, knight. Thou hadst need send for 

 more money. 

 SIR ANDREW  If I cannot recover your niece, I am a foul way out. 

 SIR TOBY BELCH  Send for money, knight: if thou hast her not i' 

 the end, call me cut. 

 SIR ANDREW  If I do not, never trust me, take it how you will. 

 SIR TOBY BELCH  Come, come, I'll go burn some sack; 'tis too late 

 to go to bed now: come, knight; come, knight. 



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