[_Exit Sir Toby._] VIOLA. Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter? FABIAN. I know the knight is incensed against you, even to a mortal arbitrement, but nothing of the circumstance more. VIOLA. I beseech you, what manner of man is he? FABIAN. Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read him by his form, as you are like to find him in the proof of his valour. He is indeed, sir, the most skilful, bloody, and fatal opposite that you could possibly have found in any part of Illyria. Will you walk towards him? I will make your peace with him if I can. VIOLA. I shall be much bound to you for’t. I am one that had rather go with sir priest than sir knight: I care not who knows so much of my mettle. [_Exeunt._] Enter Sir Toby and Sir Andrew. SIR TOBY. Why, man, he’s a very devil. I have not seen such a firago. I had a pass with him, rapier, scabbard, and all, and he gives me the stuck-in with such a mortal motion that it is inevitable; and on the answer, he pays you as surely as your feet hits the ground they step on. They say he has been fencer to the Sophy. SIR ANDREW. Pox on’t, I’ll not meddle with him. SIR TOBY. Ay, but he will not now be pacified: Fabian can scarce hold him yonder. SIR ANDREW. Plague on’t, an I thought he had been valiant, and so cunning in fence, I’d have seen him damned ere I’d have challenged him. Let him let the matter slip, and I’ll give him my horse, grey Capilet. SIR TOBY. I’ll make the motion. Stand here, make a good show on’t. This shall end without the perdition of souls. [_Aside._] Marry, I’ll ride your horse as well as I ride you. Enter Fabian and Viola. [_To Fabian._] I have his horse to take up the quarrel. I have persuaded him the youth’s a devil. FABIAN. He is as horribly conceited of him, and pants and looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels. SIR TOBY. There’s no remedy, sir, he will fight with you for’s oath sake. Marry, he hath better bethought him of his quarrel, and he finds that now scarce to be worth talking of. Therefore, draw for the supportance of his vow; he protests he will not hurt you. VIOLA. [_Aside._] Pray God defend me! A little thing would make me tell them how much I lack of a man. FABIAN. Give ground if you see him furious. SIR TOBY. Come, Sir Andrew, there’s no remedy, the gentleman will for his honour’s sake have one bout with you. He cannot by the duello avoid it; but he has promised me, as he is a gentleman and a soldier, he will not hurt you. Come on: to’t. SIR ANDREW. [_Draws._] Pray God he keep his oath! Enter Antonio. VIOLA. [_Draws._] I do assure you ’tis against my will. ANTONIO. Put up your sword. If this young gentleman Have done offence, I take the fault on me. If you offend him, I for him defy you. SIR TOBY. You, sir? Why, what are you? ANTONIO. [_Draws._] One, sir, that for his love dares yet do more Than you have heard him brag to you he will. SIR TOBY. [_Draws._] Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for you. Enter Officers.