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
    more than contempt, you would not give means for this uncivil
    rule; she shall know of it, by this hand.
 Exit
  MARIA. Go shake your ears.
  AGUECHEEK. 'Twere as good a deed as to drink when a man's
ahungry,
    to challenge him the field, and then to break promise with
him
    and make a fool of him.
  SIR TOBY. Do't, knight. I'll write thee a challenge; or I'll
    deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth.
  MARIA. Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for to-night; since the youth
of
    the Count's was to-day with my lady, she is much out of
quiet.
    For Monsieur Malvolio, let me alone with him; if I do not
gull
    him into a nayword, and make him a common recreation, do not
    think I have wit enough to lie straight in my bed. I know I
can
    do it.
  SIR TOBY. Possess us, possess us; tell us something of him.
  MARIA. Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of Puritan.
  AGUECHEEK. O, if I thought that, I'd beat him like a dog.
  SIR TOBY. What, for being a Puritan? Thy exquisite reason, dear
    knight?
  AGUECHEEK. I have no exquisite reason for't, but I have reason
good
    enough.
  MARIA. The devil a Puritan that he is, or anything constantly
but a
    time-pleaser; an affection'd ass that cons state without book
and
     utters it by great swarths; the best persuaded of himself,
so
    cramm'd, as he thinks, with excellencies that it is his
grounds
    of faith that all that look on him love him; and on that vice
in
    him will my revenge find notable cause to work.
  SIR TOBY. What wilt thou do?
  MARIA. I will drop in his way some obscure epistles of love;
    wherein, by the colour of his beard, the shape of his leg,
the
    manner of his gait, the expressure of his eye, forehead, and
    complexion, he shall find himself most feelingly personated.
I
    can write very like my lady, your niece; on forgotten matter
we
    can hardly make distinction of our hands.
  SIR TOBY. Excellent! I smell a device.
  AGUECHEEK. I have't in my nose too.
  SIR TOBY. He shall think, by the letters that thou wilt drop,
that
    they come from my niece, and that she's in love with him.
  MARIA. My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour.
  AGUECHEEK. And your horse now would make him an ass.
  MARIA. Ass, I doubt not.
  AGUECHEEK. O, 'twill be admirable!
  MARIA. Sport royal, I warrant you. I know my physic will work
with
    him. I will plant you two, and let the fool make a third,
where
    he shall find the letter; observe his construction of it. For
    this night, to bed, and dream on the event. Farewell.
 Exit
  SIR TOBY. Good night, Penthesilea.
  AGUECHEEK. Before me, she's a good wench.
  SIR TOBY. She's a beagle true-bred, and one that adores me.
    What o' that?
  AGUECHEEK. I was ador'd once too.
  SIR TOBY. Let's to bed, knight. Thou hadst need send for more
    money.
  AGUECHEEK. If I cannot recover your niece, I am a foul way out.
  SIR TOBY. Send for money, knight; if thou hast her not i' th'
end,
    call me Cut.
  AGUECHEEK. If I do not, never trust me; take it how you will.
  SIR TOBY. Come, come, I'll go burn some sack; 'tis too late to
go
    to bed now. Come, knight; come, knight.
                                                          Exeunt