To. Good, good Clo. What is loue, tis not heereafter, Present mirth, hath present laughter: What's to come, is still vnsure. In delay there lies no plentie, Then come kisse me sweet and twentie: Youths a stuffe will not endure An. A mellifluous voyce, as I am true knight To. A contagious breath An. Very sweet, and contagious ifaith To. To heare by the nose, it is dulcet in contagion. But shall we make the Welkin dance indeed? Shall wee rowze the night-Owle in a Catch, that will drawe three soules out of one Weauer? Shall we do that? And. And you loue me, let's doo't: I am dogge at a Catch Clo. Byrlady sir, and some dogs will catch well An. Most certaine: Let our Catch be, Thou Knaue Clo. Hold thy peace, thou Knaue knight. I shall be constrain'd in't, to call thee knaue, Knight An. 'Tis not the first time I haue constrained one to call me knaue. Begin foole: it begins, Hold thy peace Clo. I shall neuer begin if I hold my peace An. Good ifaith: Come begin. Catch sung Enter Maria. Mar. What a catterwalling doe you keepe heere? If my Ladie haue not call'd vp her Steward Maluolio, and bid him turne you out of doores, neuer trust me To. My Lady's a Catayan, we are politicians, Maluolios a Peg-a-ramsie, and Three merry men be wee. Am not I consanguinious? Am I not of her blood: tilly vally. Ladie, There dwelt a man in Babylon, Lady, Lady Clo. Beshrew me, the knights in admirable fooling An. I, he do's well enough if he be dispos'd, and so do I too: he does it with a better grace, but I do it more naturall To. O the twelfe day of December Mar. For the loue o' God peace. Enter Maluolio. Mal. My masters are you mad? Or what are you? Haue you no wit, manners, nor honestie, but to gabble like Tinkers at this time of night? Do yee make an Alehouse of my Ladies 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? To. We did keepe time sir in our Catches. Snecke vp Mal. Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My Lady bad me tell you, that though she harbors you as her kinsman, she's nothing ally'd to your disorders. If you can separate your selfe and your misdemeanors, you are welcome to the house: if not, and it would please you to take leaue of her, she is very willing to bid you farewell To. Farewell deere heart, since I must needs be gone Mar. Nay good Sir Toby Clo. His eyes do shew his dayes are almost done Mal. Is't euen so? To. But I will neuer dye Clo. Sir Toby there you lye Mal. This is much credit to you To. Shall I bid him go Clo. What and if you do? To. Shall I bid him go, and spare not? Clo. O no, no, no, no, you dare not To. Out o' tune sir, ye lye: Art any more then a Steward? Dost thou thinke because thou art vertuous, there shall be no more Cakes and Ale? Clo. Yes by S[aint]. Anne, and Ginger shall bee hotte y'th mouth too