| | Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW,
| |
| | and FABIAN
| |
| | | |
| |
SIR ANDREW
| |
| 3.2.1 |
No, faith, I'll not stay a jot longer.
| |
| | | |
| |
SIR TOBY BELCH
| |
| |
Thy reason, dear venom, give thy reason.
| venom venomous one |
| | | |
| |
FABIAN
| |
| |
You must needs yield your reason, Sir
| |
| |
Andrew.
| |
| | | |
| |
SIR ANDREW
| |
| 3.2.5 |
Marry, I saw your niece do more favours
| Marry i.e., I swear | do more favours to i.e., be nicer to |
| |
to the count's serving-man than ever she
| the count's serving-man i.e., Cesario/Viola |
| |
bestowed upon me. I saw't i' the orchard.
| orchard garden |
| | | |
| |
SIR TOBY BELCH
| |
| |
Did she see thee the while, old boy?
| the while at that time |
| |
tell me that.
| |
| | | |
| |
SIR ANDREW
| |
| 3.2.10 |
As plain as I see you now.
| |
| | | |
| |
FABIAN
| |
| |
This was a great argument of love in her
| argument proof |
| |
toward you.
| |
| | | |
| |
SIR ANDREW
| |
| |
'Slight, will you make an ass o' me?
| 'Slight (by) his (God's) light |
| | | |
| |
FABIAN
| |
| |
I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths
| |
| 3.2.15 |
of judgment and reason.
| |
| | | |
| |
SIR TOBY BELCH
| |
| |
And they have been grand-jurymen since
| grand-jurymen i.e., excellent judges of evidence |
| |
before Noah was a sailor.
| |
| | | |
| |
FABIAN
| |
| |
She did show favour to the youth in your sight only
| |
| |
to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse valour,
| exasperate make rough and violent |
| 3.2.20 |
to put fire in your heart and brimstone in your liver.
| dormouse i.e., sleeping |
| |
You should then have accosted her; and with some
| |
| |
excellent jests, fire-new from the mint, you should
| fire-new from the mint freshly minted, original |
| |
have banged the youth into dumbness. This was
| banged the youth into dumbness beaten ["Cesario"] into |
| |
looked for at your hand, and this was balk'd. The
| silence | looked for at your hand expected from you |
| 3.2.25 |
double gilt of this opportunity you let time wash
| balk'd let slip | double gilt heavy gold-plating |
| |
off, and you are now sailed into the north of my
| north of . . . opinion i.e., looked upon coldly |
| |
lady's opinion; where you will hang like an icicle
| icicle . . . beard >>>
|
| |
on a Dutchman's beard, unless you do redeem it by
| |
| |
some laudable attempt either of valour or policy.
| policy cunning plan |
| | | |
| |
SIR ANDREW
| |
| 3.2.30 |
An't be any way, it must be with valour; for policy
| |
| |
I hate: I had as lief be a Brownist as a
| as lief as readily | Brownist >>>
|
| |
politician.
| politician schemer |
| | | |
| |
SIR TOBY BELCH
| |
| |
Why, then, build me thy fortunes upon the basis of
| build me, Challenge me (In these colloquialisms "me" |
| |
valour. Challenge me the count's youth to fight
| adds the sense of "I've got a good idea.") |
| 3.2.35 |
with him; hurt him in eleven placesmy niece shall
| |
| |
take note of it; and assure thyself, there is no
| |
| |
love-broker in the world can more prevail in man's
| love-broker go-between in matters of the heart |
| |
commendation with woman than report of valour.
| report of reputation for |
| | | |
| |
FABIAN
| |
| |
There is no way but this, Sir Andrew.
| |
| | | |
| |
SIR ANDREW
| |
| 3.2.40 |
Will either of you bear me a challenge to
| bear me deliver for me |
| |
him?
| |
| | | |
| |
SIR TOBY BELCH
| |
| |
Go, write it in a martial hand; be curst and brief.
| a martial hand military handwriting | curst insulting |
| |
It is no matter how witty, so it be eloquent and full
| so it be as long as it is |
| |
of invention. Taunt him with the licence of ink.
| invention imagination, wit >>>
| licence freedom (It's safer
|
| 3.2.45 |
If thou thou'st him some thrice, it shall not be
| to be insulting in a letter than face-to-face.) |
| |
amiss; and as many lies as will lie in thy sheet of
| thou'st him call him "thou" (insulting to someone who is |
| |
paper, although the sheet were big enough for the
| not a friend or a servant) |
| |
bed of Ware in England, set 'em down. Go about it.
| bed of Ware (A famous bed, about eleven feet square.) |
| |
Let there be gall enough in thy ink, though thou
| gall bitterness and Oak gall, an ingredient of ink |
| 3.2.50 |
write with a goose-pen, no matter. About it.
| goose-pen goose-quill pen (And Sir Toby may also mean |
| | | that Sir Andrew will write like a silly goose.) |
| |
SIR ANDREW
| |
| |
Where shall I find you?
| |
| | | |
| |
SIR TOBY BELCH
| |
| |
We'll call thee at the cubiculo. Go.
| call thee call for you | cubiculo little chamber |
| | | |
| |
Exit SIR ANDREW
| |
| | | |
| |
FABIAN
| |
| |
This is a dear manikin to you, Sir Toby.
| dear manikin beloved puppet |
| | | |
| |
SIR TOBY BELCH
| |
| |
I have been dear to him, lad, some two thousand
| dear expensive |
| 3.2.55 |
strong, or so.
| two thousand (Sir Toby has wrangled quite a lot of money |
| | | out of Sir Andrew.) |
| |
FABIAN
| |
| |
We shall have a rare letter from him; but you'll
| rare exceptional, oustanding (but Fabian is being ironic) |
| |
not deliver't?
| but you'll not deliver't? (Actually delivering the letter |
| | | might be carrying the joke too far.) |
| |
SIR TOBY BELCH
| |
| |
Never trust me, then; and by all means stir on the
| Never trust me, then i.e., you bet I will |
| |
youth to an answer. I think oxen and wainropes
| wainropes wagon ropes |
| 3.2.60 |
cannot hale them together. For Andrew, if he were
| hale haul, drag |
| |
opened, and you find so much blood in his liver as
| blood in his liver (Cowards have white, bloodless livers.) |
| |
will clog the foot of a flea, I'll eat the rest of
| |
| |
the anatomy.
| anatomy body |
| | | |
| |
FABIAN
| |
| |
And his opposite, the youth, bears in his visage no
| opposite adversary | the youth i.e., Cesario/Viola |
| 3.2.65 |
great presage of cruelty.
| visage face | presage sign, prophecy |
| | | |
| |
Enter MARIA
| |
| | | |
| |
SIR TOBY BELCH
| |
| |
Look, where the youngest wren of nine
| youngest wren of nine i.e., Maria (The runt of a litter of |
| |
comes.
| wrens is very small, like Maria.) |
| | | |
| |
MARIA
| |
| |
If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourself
| the spleen uncontrollable laughter |
| |
into stitches, follow me. Yond gull Malvolio is
| gull sucker |
| 3.2.70 |
turned heathen, a very renegado; for there is no
| renegado renegade (who has renounced Christianity) |
| |
Christian, that means to be saved by believing
| |
| |
rightly, can ever believe such impossible passages
| impossible passages of grossness obvious absurdities |
| |
of grossness. He's in yellow stockings.
| (in the letter than Maria wrote and Malvolio read) |
| | | |
| |
SIR TOBY BELCH
| |
| |
And cross-gartered?
| |
| | | |
| |
MARIA
| |
| 3.2.75 |
Most villanously; like a pedant that keeps a school
| pedant pompous schoomaster |
| |
i' the church. I have dogged him, like his
| like his murderer i.e., as if I were going to ambush him |
| |
murderer. He does obey every point of the letter
| |
| |
that I dropped to betray him. He does smile his
| |
| |
face into more lines than is in the new map with the
| |
| 3.2.80 |
augmentation of the Indies; you have not seen such
| the new map with the augmentation of the Indies >>>
|
| |
a thing as 'tis. I can hardly forbear hurling things
| |
| |
at him. I know my lady will strike him. If she do,
| |
| |
he'll smile and take't for a great favour.
| |
| | | |
| |
SIR TOBY BELCH
| |
| 3.2.84 |
Come, bring us, bring us where he is.
| |
| | | |
| |
Exeunt
| |
| | | |