_Mar._ What's that to the purpose? _Sir To._ Why, he has three thousand ducats a year. 20 _Mar._ Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats: he's a very fool and a prodigal. _Sir To._ Fie, that you'll say so! he plays o' the viol-de-gamboys, and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature. 25 _Mar._ He hath indeed, almost natural: for besides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller; and but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among the prudent he would quickly have the gift of a grave. 30 _Sir To._ By this hand, they are scoundrels and substractors that say so of him. Who are they? _Mar._ They that add, moreover, he's drunk nightly in your company. _Sir To._ With drinking healths to my niece: I 'll drink 35 to her as long as there is a passage in my throat and drink in Illyria: he's a coward and a coystrill that will not drink to my niece till his brains turn o' the toe like a parish-top. What, wench! Castiliano vulgo; for here comes Sir Andrew Agueface. 40 _Enter_ Sir ANDREW AGUECHEEK. _Sir And._ Sir Toby Belch! how now, Sir Toby Belch! _Sir To._ Sweet Sir Andrew! _Sir And._ Bless you, fair shrew. _Mar._ And you too, sir. _Sir To._ Accost, Sir Andrew, accost. 45 _Sir And._ What's that? _Sir To._ My niece's chambermaid. _Sir And._ Good Mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance. _Mar._ My name is Mary, sir. 50 _Sir And._ Good Mistress Mary Accost,-- _Sir To._ You mistake, knight: 'accost' is front her, board her, woo her, assail her. _Sir And._ By my troth, I would not undertake her in this company. Is that the meaning of 'accost'? 55 _Mar._ Fare you well, gentlemen. _Sir To._ An thou let part so, Sir Andrew, would thou mightst never draw sword again. _Sir And._ An you part so, mistress, I would I might never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think you have 60 fools in hand? _Mar._ Sir, I have not you by the hand. _Sir And._ Marry, but you shall have; and here's my hand. _Mar._ Now, sir, 'thought is free': I pray you, bring your 65 hand to the buttery-bar and let it drink. _Sir And._ Wherefore, sweet-heart? what's your metaphor? _Mar._ It's dry, sir. _Sir And._ Why, I think so: I am not such an ass but I 70 can keep my hand dry. But what's your jest? _Mar._ A dry jest, sir. _Sir And._ Are you full of them? _Mar._ Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers' ends: marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren. [_Exit._ 75