Sir To. Who? Sir Andrew Ague-cheek? Mar. Ay, be. Sir To. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria. Sir To. Why, he has three thousand ducats a year. Mar. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats ; he's a very fool, and a prodigal. Sir To. Fye, that you'll say so! he plays o' th' viol-derambo, and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature. Mar. 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 To. By this hand, they are scoundrels, and subtractors, that say so of him. Who are they? Mar. They that add moreover, he's drunk nightly in your company. Sir To. 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 coystril, 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 Ague-face. Enter Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEek. Sir And. Sir Toby Belch! how now, sir Toby Belch? Sir To. Sweet sir Andrew! Sir And. Bless you, fair shrew. Mar. And you too, sir. Sir To. Accost, sir Andrew, accost. Sir And. What's that? Sir To. My niece's chamber-maid. [5] The viol-de-gambo seems, in our author's time, to have been a tery fashionable instrument; from the Italian word Gaiba, the leg; it being heid between the legs when played upon. STEEVENS. [6] i. e. a coward coek. It may however be a keystril, or a bastard hawk; a kind of stone-hawk. A costril is a paltry groom, one only fit to carry arms, but not to use them. TOLLET. [7] This is one of the customs now laid aside. A large top was formerly kept in every village, to be whipped in frosty weather, that the peasants may be kept warm by exercise, and out of mischief, while they could not work. STEEVENS. To sleep like a town-top," is a proverbial expression A top is said to sleep, when it turns round with great velocity, and makes a smooth humming noise. BLACKSTONE. [8] We should read volto. In English, put on your Castilian countevance $ that is, your grave, solemn looks. WARBURTON. VOL. IV. E Sir And. Good mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance. Mar. My name is Mary, sir. Sir And. Good mistress Mary Accost,— Sir To. You mistake, knight: accost, is, front her, board her, woo her, assail her. Sir And. By my troth, I would not undertake her in this company. Is that the meaning of accost? Mar. Fare you well, gentlemen. Sir To. An thou let part so, sir Andrew, 'would thou might'st never draw sword again. Sir And. An you part so, mistress, I would I might never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think you have fools in hand? Mar. Sir, I have not you by the hand. Sir And. Marry, but you shall have; and here's my hand. Mar. Now, sir, thought is free: I pray you, bring your hand to the buttery-bar, and let it drink. Sir And. Wherefore, sweet heart? what's your metaphor? Mar. It's dry, sir.9 Sir And. Why, I think so; I am not such an ass, but I can keep my hand dry. But what's your jest? Mar. A dry jest, sir. Sir And. Are you full of them? Mar. Ay, sir; I have them at my fingers' ends: marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren. [Exit MAR. Sir To. O knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary: When did I see thee so put down? Sir And. 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 To. No question. Sir And. An I thought that, I'd forswear it. I'll ride home to-morrow, sir Toby. Sir To. Pourquoy, my dear knight? Sir And. What is pourquoy? do or not do? I would I had bestowed that time in the tongues, that I have in [9] According to the rules of physiognomy, she may intend to insinuate, that it is not a lover's hand, a moist hand being vulgarly accounted a sign of an amorous constitution. JOHNSON. fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting: O, had I but followed the arts! Sir To. Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair. Sir And. Why, would that have mended my hair? Sir To. Past question; for thou seest, it will not curl by nature. Sir And. But it becomes me well enough, does't not? Sir To. Excellent; it hangs like flax on a distaff; and I hope to see a house-wife take thee between her legs, and spin it off. Sir And. '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 To. She'll none o' the count; she'll not match above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; I have heard her swear it. Tut, there's life in't, man. Sir And. I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o' the strangest mind i' the world; I delight in masques and revels sometimes altogether. Sir To. Art thou good at these kick-shaws, knight? Sir And. As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be, under the degree of my betters; and yet I will not compare with an old man. Sir To. What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight? Sir And. 'Faith, I can cut a caper. Sir To. And I can cut the mutton to't. Sir And. And, I think, I have the back-trick, simply as strong as any man in Illyria. Sir To. Wherefore are these things hid? wherefore have these gifts a curtain before them? are they like to take dust, like mistress Mall's picture? why dost [1] The real name of the woman whom I suppose to have been meant by Sir Toby, was Mary Frith. The appeilation by which she was generally known, was Mall Cutpurse. She was at once an hermaphrodite, a prostitute, a bawd, a bully, a thief, a receiver of stolen goods, &c. &c. A life of this woman was published, 12mo. in 1662. As this extraordinary personage appears to have partook of both Fexes, the curtain which Sir Toby mentions would not have been unnecessarily drawn before such a picture of her as might have been exhibited in an age, of which neither too much delicacy or decency was the characteristic. STEEVENS. It is for the sake of correcting a mistake of Dr Grey, that I observe this is the character alluded to in the second of the following lines: and not Mary Carleton, the German Princess, as he has very erroneously and unaccountably imagined: "A bold virago stout and tall, As Joan of France, or English Mall," Hudibras, P. I. c. iii. The latter of these lines is borrowed by Swift in his Baucis and Philemon. RITSON. thou not go to church in a galliard, and come home in a coranto? My very walk should be a jig; I would not so much as make water, but in a sink-a-pace.' What dost thou mean? is it a world to hide virtues in? I did think, by the excellent constitution of thy leg, it was formed under the star of a galliard. Sir And. Ay, 'tis strong, and it does indifferent well in a flame-coloured stock. Shall we set about some revels? Sir To. What shall we do else? were we not born under Taurus? Sir And. Taurus ? that's sides and heart ?3 Sir To. No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let me see thee caper: ha! higher: ha, ha!—excellent! [Exeunt. SCENE IV. A Room in the Duke's Palace. Enter VALENTINe, and VIOLA in man's attire. Val. If the duke continue these favours towards you, Cesario, you are like to be much advanced; he hath known you but three days, and already you are no stranger. Vio. You either fear his humour, or my negligence. that you call in question the continuance of his love: Is he inconstant, sir, in his favours ? Val. No, believe me. Enter Duke, CURIO, and Attendants. Vio. On your attendance, my lord; here. Thou know'st no less but all; I have unclasp'd Vio. Sure, my noble lord, If she be so abandon'd to her sorrow As it is spoke, she never will admit me. [2] i e a cinque pace; the name of a dance, the measures whereof are regulated by the number five. SIR J. HAWKINS. [3] Alluding to the medical astrology still preserved in almanacks, which refers the affections of particular parts of the body to the predominance of particular constellations. JOHNSON. Duke. Be clamorous, and leap all civil bounds, Rather than make unprofited return. Vio. Say, I do speak with her, my lord; What then? Duke. Ŏ, then unfold the passion of my love, Surprise her with discourse of my dear faith; It shall become thee well to act my woes : She will attend it better in thy youth, Than in a nuncio of more grave aspect. Vio. I think not so, my lord. Duke. Dear lad, believe it; For they shall yet belie thy happy years, Is.not more smooth, and rubious; thy small pipe I know, thy constellation is right apt For this affair :-Some four, or five, attend him ; When least in company :-Prosper well in this, Vio. I'll do my best, To woo your lady: yet, [Aside.] a barful strife! SCENE V. A Room in OLIVIA'S House. [Exeunt. Enter MARIA, and Clown.* Mar. Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will not open my lips, so wide as a bristle may enter, in way of thy excuse my lady will hang thee for thy ab sence. Clo. Let her hang me: he, that is well hanged in this world, needs to fear no colours. Mar. Make that good. Clo. He shall see none to fear. Mar. A good lenten answer: I can tell thee where that saying was born, of, I fear no colours. [4] Clown-It may not be amiss, from a passage in Tarleton's News out of Purgatory, to point out one of the ancient dresses appropriated to this character: "I saw one attired in russet, with a button'd cap on his head, a bag by his side, and a strong bat in his hand; so artificially attired for a clowne, as I began to call STEEVENS. Tarleton's woonted shape to remembrance." Such perhaps was the dress of the Clown in this comedy, in All's well that ends well, &c. The Clown, however, in Measure for Measure, (as an anonymous writer bas observed,) is only the tapster of a brothel, and probably was not so apparelled. MALONE. [5] A lean, or as we now call it, a dry answer. JOHNSON. |