_Sir And._ 'Twere as good a deed as to drink when a man's a hungry, to challenge him to the field; and then to break promise with him, and make a fool of him. _Sir To._ Do't, knight; I'll write thee a challenge: or I'll deliver thy indignation to him by word of mouth. _Mar._ Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for to-night; since the youth of the Duke's was to-day with my lady, she is much out of quiet. For Monsieur Malvolio, let me alone with him: if I do not gull him into a nayword, and make him a common recreation, do not think I have wit enough to lie straight in my bed: I know, I can do it. _Sir To._ Possess us, possess us; tell us something of him. _Mar._ Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of Puritan. _Sir And._ O, if I thought that, I'd beat him like a dog. _Sir To._ What, for being a Puritan? Thy exquisite reason, dear knight? _Sir And._ I have no exquisite reason for't, but I have reason good enough. _Mar._ The devil a Puritan that he is, or any thing constantly but a time-pleaser; an affectioned ass; so crammed, as he thinks, with excellencies, that it is his ground of faith, that all, that look on him, love him; and on that vice in him will my revenge find notable cause to work. _Sir To._ What wilt thou do? _Mar._ I will drop in his way some obscure epistles of love; wherein, by the colour of his beard, the shape of his leg, the manner of his gait, the expressure of his eye, he shall find himself most feelingly personated: I can write very like my lady, your niece; on a forgotten matter we can hardly make distinction of our hands. _Sir To._ Excellent! I smell a device. _Sir And._ I have't in my nose too. _Sir To._ He shall think, by the letters that thou wilt drop, that they come from my niece, and that she is in love with him? _Sir And._ O, 'twill be admirable. _Mar._ Sport royal, I warrant you. I will plant you two, and let Fabian make a third, where he shall find the letter; observe his construction of it. For this night, to bed, and dream on the event. Farewell. [_Exit_ MARIA. _Sir To._ Good night, Penthesilea. _Sir And._ Before me, she's a good wench. _Sir To._ She's a beagle, true bred, and one that adores me; What o' that? _Sir And._ I was adored once too. _Sir To._ Let's to bed, knight.--Thou hadst need send for more money. _Sir And._ If I cannot recover your niece, I am a foul way out. _Sir To._ Send for money, knight; if thou hast her not i' the end, call me Cut. _Sir And._ If I do not, never trust me, take it how you will. _Sir To._ Come, come; I'll go burn some sack, 'tis too late to go to bed now. _Sir And._ I'll call you Cut. _Sir To._ Come, knight,--come, knight. _Sir And._ I'll call you Cut. [_Exeunt._ SCENE III. _A Hall in_ DUKE ORSINO'S _Palace_.