At Olivia's house, it is late and Sir Toby and Sir Andrew have been drinking, or "revelling," as they call it. They are noisily celebrating — reciting fragments of songs, Latin sayings, and old country proverbs. They play at logic: Sir Andrew says in all inebriated seriousness that "to be up late is to be up late." Sir Toby absolutely disagrees: "a false conclusion," he pronounces, and a flaw in reasoning, a vexation which he dislikes as much as he does an empty beer mug. Then he launches into an involved, implausible, and ridiculous diatribe involving the hours of the day and of the night and the four elements, and ends by praising Sir Andrew for being such a superb scholar because Sir Andrew agrees with Sir Toby's final conclusion — that "life . . . consists of eating and drinking," which reminds Sir Toby that what they both need is another drink. Thus he bellows loudly for "Marian" (Maria) to fetch them "a stoup of wine."
Feste, the jester, has not gone to bed and is delighted to come in and discover a party going on. They all joke uproariously in broad comedy about their all being asses, and then they attempt to approximate the acerbic flair of high comedy, but their bits and pieces of joking become so disjointed that it is impossible to know exactly what they are laughing about, nor is it terribly important. The point is, they are having manly, goodhearted drunken fun and, therefore, they indulge quite naturally in some loud singing. Very naturally, one of the first songs is a love song. It is sung by Feste and begins "O mistress mine" and concerns men wooing their true loves. The second verse praises the experience of love: love is an act, to be acted upon; "tis not hereafter." The future, according to the song, is unsure, therefore, lovers should kiss for "youth's a stuff [which] will not endure." The philosophy of the song is agreeable to all, as is Feste's "mellifluous voice," according to the tipsy Sir Andrew. Sir Toby criticizes Feste's breath, pondering momentarily on the possibility of one's being able to hear with one's nose. Then in the next breath, he suggests that they celebrate so thoroughly that they will "rouse the night-owl" and make the sky itself (the "welkin") dance. Sir Andrew thinks that this is a splendid idea: "I am dog at a catch," he cries out, meaning that he is clever at singing. Yet no sooner do they begin, than their tongues tumble over the words "knaves" and "knights," two completely different kinds of men, and they attempt to begin all over again when Maria comes in. She warns them that their "caterwauling," their wailing like three sex-starved tomcats, is going to get them thrown out of the place. If Olivia is awakened, she will have her steward, Malvolio, toss them all out. Neither Sir Toby nor Sir Andrew pays any attention whatsoever to her; they are too far gone in their cups, and they call Olivia a "Cataian" (a bitch) and call Malvolio a "Peg-a-Ramsey." This latter slur is very insulting, referring to an over-the-hill, henpecked impotent man who woefully longs for the long-gone days when men sported yellow hose and wooed the village maids. Sir Toby begins a new song, with the words "On the twelfth day of December . . ." and suddenly they are all startled to see a figure in the doorway. It is Malvolio.
