SCENE V. OLIVIA'S garden.
[Enter SIR TOBY, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN.]
SIR TOBY.
Come thy ways, Signior Fabian.
FABIAN.
Nay, I'll come: if I lose a scruple of this sport, let me be
boil'd to death with melancholy.
SIR TOBY.
Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly rascally
sheep-biter come by some notable shame?
FABIAN.
I would exult, man; you know he brought me out o' favour with my
lady about a bear-baiting here.
SIR TOBY.
To anger him, we'll have the bear again; and we will fool him
black and blue: shall we not, Sir Andrew?
SIR ANDREW.
And we do not, it is pity of our lives.
[Enter MARIA.]
SIR TOBY.
Here comes the little villain.
How now, my metal of India!
