Twelfth Night; Or, What You Will

AGUECHEEK. A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight.

SIR TOBY. A contagious breath.

AGUECHEEK. Very sweet and contagious, i' faith.

SIR TOBY. To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in contagion. But shall
we make the welkin dance indeed? Shall we rouse the nightowl in
a catch that will draw three souls out of one weaver? Shall we do
that?

AGUECHEEK. 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.

AGUECHEEK. Most certain. Let our catch be 'Thou knave.'

CLOWN. 'Hold thy peace, thou knave' knight? I shall be constrain'd
in't to call thee knave, knight.

AGUECHEEK. '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.

AGUECHEEK. Good, i' faith! Come, begin. [Catch sung]

Enter MARIA

MARIA. What a caterwauling do you keep here! If my lady have not
call'd up her steward Malvolio, and bid him turn you out of
doors, never trust me.

SIR TOBY. My lady's a Cataian, we are politicians, Malvolio's a
Peg-a-Ramsey, and [Sings]
Three merry men be we.
Am not I consanguineous? Am I not of her blood? Tilly-vally,
lady. [Sings]
There dwelt a man in Babylon,
Lady, lady.

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

AGUECHEEK. Ay, he does well enough if he be dispos'd, and so do
I too; he does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural.

SIR TOBY. [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 you no
wit, manners, nor honesty, but to gabble like tinkers at this
time of night? Do ye make an ale-house 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. 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 kins-man, she's nothing
allied to your disorders. If you can separate yourself and your
misdemeanours, you are welcome to the house; if not, and it would
please you to take leave of her, she is very willing to bid you
farewell.

SIR TOBY. [Sings] Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be gone.

MARIA. Nay, good Sir Toby.

CLOWN. [Sings] His eyes do show his days are almost done.

MALVOLIO. Is't even so?

SIR TOBY. [Sings] But I will never die. [Falls down]

CLOWN. [Sings] Sir Toby, there you lie.

MALVOLIO. This is much credit to you.

SIR TOBY. [Sings] Shall I bid him go?

CLOWN. [Sings] What an if you do?

SIR TOBY. [Sings] Shall I bid him go, and spare not?

CLOWN. [Sings] O, no, no, no, no, you dare not.

SIR TOBY. [Rising] 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' th' mouth too.

SIR TOBY. Th' art i' th' right. Go, sir, rub your chain with crumbs.
A stoup of wine, Maria!

MALVOLIO. Mistress Mary, if you priz'd my lady's favour at anything