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My masters, are you mad?

My masters, are you mad? Or what are you?
Have you no wit, manners, nor honesty but to
gabble like tinkers at this time of night? Do you
make an ale-house of my lady's house, that you
squeak out your coziers' catches without any mitigation
or remorse of voice? Is there no respect of
place, persons, nor time in you?
Sir Toby Belch
We did keep time, sir, in our catches. Sneck up!
Sir Toby, I must be round with you. My lady
bade me tell you that, though she harbors you as her
kinsman, she's nothing allied to your disorders. If
you can separate yourself and your misdemeanors,
you are welcome to the house; if not, an it would
please you to take leave of her, she is very willing to
bid you farewell.
Sir Toby Belch sings
Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be gone.
Nay, good Sir Toby.
Fool  sings
His eyes do show his days are almost done.
Is ‘t even so?
Sir Toby Belch sings
But I will never die.
Fool sings
Sir Toby, there you lie.
This is much credit to you.
Sir Toby Belch sings
Shall I bid him go?
Fool sings
What an if you do?
Sir Toby Belch sings
Shall I bid him go, and spare not?
Fool sings
O no, no, no, no, you dare not.
Sir Toby Belch
Out o' tune, sir? You lie. Art any more than a
steward? Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous,
there shall be no more cakes and ale?
Yes, by Saint Anne, and ginger shall be hot i' th'
mouth, too.
Sir Toby Belch
Thou ‘rt i' th' right.—Go, sir, rub your chain
with crumbs.—A stoup of wine, Maria!
Mistress Mary, if you prized my lady's favor
at anything more than contempt, you would not give
means for this uncivil rule. She shall know of it, by
this hand.

He exits

Act 2
Scene 3
Line 87

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