Page 579 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

will lie in thy sheet of paper, although the sheet were big enough for the bed
of Ware in England, [45] set’ em down. Go, about it. Let there be gall enough
in thy ink, though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter: about it.

SIR ANDREW
Where shall I find you?

SIR TOBY
We’ll call thee at thy cubiculo. Go! [50]

Exit Sir Andrew.

FABIAN
This is a dear manikin to you, Sir Toby.

SIR TOBY
I have been dear to him, lad, some two thousand strong, or so.

FABIAN
We shall have a rare letter from him; but you’ll not deliver’t. [55]

SIR TOBY
Never trust me then: and by all means stir on the youth to an answer. I think
oxen and wainropes cannot hale them together. For Andrew, if he were

opened and you find so munch blood in his liver as will clog the foot of a flea,
I’ll eat the rest of th’ anatomy. [60]

FABIAN
And his opposite, the youth, bears in his visage no great presage of cruelty.

Enter Maria.

SIR TOBY
Look where the youngest wren of nine comes.

MARIA
If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourselves into stitches, follow me.

Yond gull Malvolio is [65] turned heathen, a very renegado; for there is no