Page 603 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3
P. 603
SIR TOBY
Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier, put up your iron: you
are well fleshed. Come on!
SEBASTIAN
I will be free from thee. What would’st thou [40] now? If thou dar’st tempt
me further, draw thy sword.
(Draws.)
SIR TOBY
What, what! Nay, then, I must have an ounce or two of this malapert blood
from you.
(Draws.)
Enter Olivia.
OLIVIA
Hold, Toby! on thy life I charge thee, hold!
SIR TOBY
Madam! [45]
OLIVIA
Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch,
Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves,
Where manners ne’er were preach’d! Out of my sight!
Be not offended, dear Cesario.
Rudesby, be gone!
(Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, and Fabian.)
I prithee, gentle friend, [50]
Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway
In this uncivil and unjust extent
Against thy peace. Go with me to my house,
And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks
This ruffian hath botch’d up, that thou thereby [55]
May’st smile at this. Thou shalt not choose but go:
Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me,
He started one poor heart of mine, in thee.
