Vio. I left no Ring with her: what meanes this Lady? Fortune forbid my out-side haue not charm'd her: She made good view of me, indeed so much, That me thought her eyes had lost her tongue, For she did speake in starts distractedly. She loues me sure, the cunning of her passion Inuites me in this churlish messenger: None of my Lords Ring? Why he sent her none; I am the man, if it be so, as tis, Poore Lady, she were better loue a dreame: Disguise, I see thou art a wickednesse, Wherein the pregnant enemie does much. How easie is it, for the proper false In womens waxen hearts to set their formes: Alas, O frailtie is the cause, not wee, For such as we are made, if such we bee: How will this fadge? My master loues her deerely, And I (poore monster) fond asmuch on him: And she (mistaken) seemes to dote on me: What will become of this? As I am man, My state is desperate for my maisters loue: As I am woman (now alas the day) What thriftlesse sighes shall poore Oliuia breath? O time, thou must vntangle this, not I, It is too hard a knot for me t' vnty. Scoena Tertia. Enter Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew. To. Approach Sir Andrew: not to bee a bedde after midnight, is to be vp betimes, and Deliculo surgere, thou know'st And. Nay by my troth I know not: but I know, to be vp late, is to be vp late To. A false conclusion: I hate it as an vnfill'd Canne. To be vp after midnight, and to go to bed then is early: so that to go to bed after midnight, is to goe to bed betimes. Does not our liues consist of the foure Elements? And. Faith so they say, but I thinke it rather consists of eating and drinking To. Th'art a scholler; let vs therefore eate and drinke Marian I say, a stoope of wine. Enter Clowne. And. Heere comes the foole yfaith Clo. How now my harts: Did you neuer see the Picture of we three? To. Welcome asse, now let's haue a catch And. By my troth the foole has an excellent breast. I had rather then forty shillings I had such a legge, and so sweet a breath to sing, as the foole has. Insooth thou wast in very gracious fooling last night, when thou spok'st of Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians passing the Equinoctial of Queubus: 'twas very good yfaith: I sent thee sixe pence for thy Lemon, hadst it? Clo. I did impeticos thy gratillity: for Maluolios nose is no Whip-stocke. My Lady has a white hand, and the Mermidons are no bottle-ale houses An. Excellent: Why this is the best fooling, when all is done. Now a song To. Come on, there is sixe pence for you. Let's haue a song An. There's a testrill of me too: if one knight giue a Clo. Would you haue a loue-song, or a song of good life? To. A loue song, a loue song An. I, I. I care not for good life Clowne sings . O Mistris mine where are you roming? O stay and heare, your true loues coming, That can sing both high and low. Trip no further prettie sweeting. Iourneys end in louers meeting, Euery wise mans sonne doth know An. Excellent good, ifaith