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FABIAN.
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I will not give my part of this sport for a pension of
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thousands to be paid from the Sophy.
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SIR TOBY.
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I could marry this wench for this device:
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SIR ANDREW.
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So could I too.
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SIR TOBY.
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And ask no other dowry with her but such another jest.
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[Enter MARIA.]
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SIR ANDREW.
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Nor I neither.
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FABIAN.
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Here comes my noble gull-catcher.
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SIR TOBY.
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Wilt thou set thy foot o' my neck?
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SIR ANDREW.
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Or o' mine either?
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SIR TOBY.
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Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and become thy bond-slave?
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SIR ANDREW.
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I' faith, or I either?
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SIR TOBY.
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Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that, when the
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image of it leaves him, he must run mad.
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MARIA.
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Nay, but say true; does it work upon him?
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SIR TOBY.
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Like aqua-vitae with a midwife.
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MARIA.
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If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark his
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first approach before my lady: he will come to her in yellow
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stockings, and 'tis a colour she abhors, and cross-gartered, a
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fashion she detests; and he will smile upon her, which will now
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be so unsuitable to her disposition, being addicted to a
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melancholy as she is, that it cannot but turn him into a notable
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contempt; if you will see it, follow me.
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SIR TOBY.
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To the gates of Tartar, thou most excellent devil of wit!
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SIR ANDREW.
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I'll make one too.
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[Exeunt.]
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ACT III. SCENE I.
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OLIVIA'S garden.
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[Enter VIOLA, and CLOWN with a tabor.]
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VIOLA.
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Save thee, friend, and thy music. Dost thou live by thy tabor?
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CLOWN.
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No, sir, I live by the church.
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VIOLA.
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Art thou a churchman?
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CLOWN.
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No such matter, sir: I do live by the church; for I do live
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at my house, and my house doth stand by the church.
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VIOLA.
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So thou mayst say the king lies by a beggar, if a beggar
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dwell near him; or the church stands by thy tabor, if thy tabor
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stand by the church.
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CLOWN.
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You have said, sir.--To see this age!--A sentence is but a
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cheveril glove to a good wit. How quickly the wrong side may be
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turned outward!
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VIOLA.
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Nay, that's certain; they that dally nicely with words may
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quickly make them wanton.
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CLOWN.
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I would, therefore, my sister had had no name, sir.
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