Twelfth Night By William Shakespeare Act I: Scene 3

SIR ANDREW.
And I thought that, I'd forswear it. I'll ride home to-morrow,
Sir Toby.

SIR TOBY.
Pourquoi, my dear knight?

SIR ANDREW.
What is 'pourquoi'? do or not do? I would I had bestow'd that
time in the tongues that I have in fencing, dancing, and
bear-baiting! O, had I but follow'd the arts!

SIR TOBY.
Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair.

SIR ANDREW.
Why, would that have mended my hair?

SIR TOBY.
Past question; for thou seest it will not curl by nature.

SIR ANDREW.
But it becomes me well enough, does't not?

SIR TOBY.
Excellent; it hangs like flax on a distaff.

SIR ANDREW.
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 wooes her.

SIR TOBY.
She'll none o' th' count. She'll not match above her degree,
neither in estate, years, nor wit; I have heard her swear't. Tut,
there's life in't, man.

SIR ANDREW.
I'll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o' th' strangest mind i'
th' world; I delight in masques and revels sometimes altogether.

SIR TOBY.
Art thou good at these kickshawses, knight?

SIR ANDREW.
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 TOBY.
What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight?

SIR ANDREW.
Faith, I can cut a caper.

SIR TOBY.
And I can cut the mutton to't.

SIR ANDREW.
And I think I have the back-trick simply as strong as any man in
Illyria.

SIR TOBY.
Wherefore are these things hid? wherefore have these gifts a
curtain before 'em? are they like to take dust, like Mistress
Mall's picture? why dost thou not go to church in a galliard, and
come home in a coranto? My very walk should be a jig. What dost
thou mean? is it a world to hide virtues in? I did think, by the
excellent constitution of thy leg, it was form'd under the star
of a galliard.

SIR ANDREW.
Ay, 't is strong, and it does indifferent well in flame-colour'd
stock. Shall we set about some revels?

SIR TOBY.
What shall we do else? were we not born under Taurus?

SIR ANDREW.
Taurus! That's sides and heart.

SIR TOBY.
No, sir; it is legs and thighs. Let me see the caper. Ha! higher!
ha, ha, excellent!

[Exeunt.]

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