Twelfth Night, Act 1, Scene 3

What a plague means my niece to take the death of her brother thus? I am sure care’s an enemy to life.

What the devil does my niece mean by taking her brother's death like this? I'm sure worry is an enemy to life.

By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier o’ nights; your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions to your ill hours.

Honestly, Sir Toby, you must come home earlier at night; your cousin, my lady, strongly objects to your late hours.

Why, let her except, before excepted.

Well, let her object, with the objections already made.

Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest limits of order.

Yes, but you must keep yourself within the decent bounds of good behaviour.

Confine? I’ll confine myself no finer than I am. These clothes are good enough to drink in, and so be these boots too; and they be not, let them hang themselves in their own straps.

Keep myself in bounds? I'll dress myself no finer than I am. These clothes are good enough to drink in, and so are these boots; and if they aren't, let them hang themselves by their own straps.

That quaffing and drinking will undo you: I heard my lady talk of it yesterday; and of a foolish knight that you brought in one night here to be her wooer.

All that swilling and drinking will ruin you. I heard my lady speak of it yesterday, and of a foolish knight that you brought here one night to court her.

Who? Sir Andrew Aguecheek?

Who? Sir Andrew Aguecheek?

Ay, he.

Yes, him.

He’s as tall a man as any’s in Illyria.

He's as fine a man as any in Illyria.

What’s that to th’ purpose?

What does that have to do with it?

Why, he has three thousand ducats a year.

Why, he has three thousand ducats a year.

Ay, but he’ll have but a year in all these ducats. He’s a very fool, and a prodigal.

Yes, but he'll only have a year's worth of all those ducats. He's an absolute fool, and a spendthrift.

Fie, that you’ll say so! he plays o’ the viol-de-gamboys, and speaks three or four languages word for word without book, and hath all the good gifts of nature.

Shame on you for saying so! He plays the bass viol, and speaks three or four languages word for word without a book, and has all the good gifts nature gives.

He hath indeed, almost natural: for, besides that he’s a fool, he’s a great quarreller; and, but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, ’tis thought among the prudent he would quickly have the gift of a grave.

He does indeed, almost the gifts of an idiot: because besides being a fool, he's a great quarreller; and if he didn't have the gift of cowardice to cool his appetite for quarrelling, sensible people think he'd quickly be given a grave.

By this hand, they are scoundrels and substractors that say so of him. Who are they?

By this hand, they're scoundrels and slanderers who say that about him. Who are they?

They that add, moreover, he’s drunk nightly in your company.

The ones who add, besides, that he gets drunk every night in your company.

With drinking healths to my niece; I’ll drink to her as long as there is a passage in my throat, and drink in Illyria. He’s a coward and a coystril that will not drink to my niece till his brains turn o’ the toe like a parish top. What, wench! Castiliano vulgo: for here comes Sir Andrew Agueface.

Drinking toasts to my niece, that's why. I'll drink to her as long as there's a passage down my throat and drink in Illyria. Anyone's a coward and a stable-boy who won't drink to my niece until his brain spins on its toe like a village spinning-top. Hey, girl! Castiliano vulgo: here comes Sir Andrew Agueface.

Sir Toby Belch! How now, Sir Toby Belch?

Sir Toby Belch! How are you, Sir Toby Belch?

Sweet Sir Andrew!

Dear Sir Andrew!

Bless you, fair shrew.

Bless you, pretty shrew.

And you too, sir.

And you as well, sir.

Accost, Sir Andrew, accost.

Accost her, Sir Andrew, accost her.

What’s that?

What's that?

My niece’s chamber-maid.

My niece's personal maid.

Good Mistress Accost, I desire better acquaintance.

Good Mistress Accost, I'd like to know you better.

My name is Mary, sir.

My name is Mary, sir.

Good Mistress Mary Accost,—

Good Mistress Mary Accost—

You mistake, knight: accost is front her, board her, woo her, assail her.

You've got it wrong, knight. To accost means to go up to her, to board her, to court her, to attack her.

By my troth, I would not undertake her in this company. Is that the meaning of accost?

Honestly, I wouldn't take her on in this company. Is that what accost means?

Fare you well, gentlemen.

Goodbye, gentlemen.

And thou let part so, Sir Andrew, would thou mightst never draw sword again.

If you let her go like that, Sir Andrew, I hope you may never draw your sword again.

And you part so, mistress, I would I might never draw sword again. Fair lady, do you think you have fools in hand?

If you go like that, mistress, I hope I may never draw my sword again. Fair lady, do you think you have fools in hand?

Sir, I have not you by the hand.

Sir, I don't have you by the hand.

Marry, but you shall have, and here’s my hand.

Well then, you shall have, and here's my hand.

Now, sir, thought is free. I pray you, bring your hand to th’ buttery bar and let it drink.

Now, sir, thinking is free. Please, bring your hand to the drinks counter and let it have a drink.

Wherefore, sweetheart? What’s your metaphor?

Why, sweetheart? What do you mean by that?

It’s dry, sir.

It's dry, sir.

Why, I think so; I am not such an ass but I can keep my hand dry. But what’s your jest?

Well, I should think so; I'm not such a donkey that I can't keep my hand dry. But what's your joke?

A dry jest, sir.

A dry joke, sir.

Are you full of them?

Are you full of them?

Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers’ ends: marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren.

Yes, sir, I have them at my fingertips: but now that I let go of your hand, I'm empty.

O knight, thou lack’st a cup of canary: When did I see thee so put down?

Oh knight, you need a cup of sweet wine. When did I ever see you so beaten?

Never in your life, I think, unless you see canary put me down. Methinks sometimes I have no more wit than a Christian or an ordinary man has; but I am a great eater of beef, and I believe that does harm to my wit.

Never in your life, I think, unless you count seeing the wine knock me down. Sometimes I think I have no more brains than any Christian or ordinary man has; but I'm a great eater of beef, and I believe that damages my wits.

No question.

No question about it.

And I thought that, I’d forswear it. I’ll ride home tomorrow, Sir Toby.

If I believed that, I'd swear off beef. I'll ride home tomorrow, Sir Toby.

Pourquoy, my dear knight?

Pourquoy, my dear knight?

What is pourquoy? Do, or not do? I would I had bestowed that time in the tongues that I have in fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting. O, had I but followed the arts!

What does pourquoy mean? Do, or don't do? I wish I had spent the time on languages that I've spent on fencing, dancing, and bear-baiting. Oh, if only I had studied the arts!

Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair.

Then you would have had a splendid head of hair.

Why, would that have mended my hair?

Why, would that have improved my hair?

Past question; for thou seest it will not curl by nature.

Beyond question; since you can see it won't curl naturally.

But it becomes me well enough, does’t not?

But it suits me well enough, doesn't it?

Excellent, it hangs like flax on a distaff; and I hope to see a huswife take thee between her legs, and spin it off.

Wonderfully; it hangs like flax on a spinning staff, and I hope to see a housewife take you between her legs and spin it off.

Faith, I’ll home tomorrow, Sir Toby; your niece will not be seen, or if she be, it’s four to one she’ll none of me; the Count himself here hard by woos her.

Truly, I'll go home tomorrow, Sir Toby. Your niece won't let herself be seen, and if she does, it's four to one she'll have nothing to do with me. The Count himself, close by here, is courting her.

She’ll none o’ the Count; she’ll not match above her degree, neither in estate, years, nor wit; I have heard her swear’t. Tut, there’s life in’t, man.

She'll have nothing to do with the Count; she won't marry above her rank, either in wealth, age, or intelligence. I've heard her swear it. Come on, there's hope in it yet, man.

I’ll stay a month longer. I am a fellow o’ the strangest mind i’ the world; I delight in masques and revels sometimes altogether.

I'll stay a month longer. I'm a man with the strangest mind in the world; sometimes I take nothing but delight in masked balls and parties.

Art thou good at these kick-shawses, knight?

Are you any good at these fancy trifles, knight?

As any man in Illyria, whatsoever he be, under the degree of my betters; and yet I will not compare with an old man.

As good as any man in Illyria, whoever he may be, so long as he's not my social superior; and even so I won't compete with an experienced man.

What is thy excellence in a galliard, knight?

How good are you at a galliard, knight?

Faith, I can cut a caper.

Truly, I can leap and kick my heels.

And I can cut the mutton to’t.

And I can cut the sauce to go with it.

And I think I have the back-trick simply as strong as any man in Illyria.

And I think my backward step is simply as strong as any man's in Illyria.

Wherefore are these things hid? Wherefore have these gifts a curtain before ’em? Are they like to take dust, like Mistress Mall’s picture? Why dost thou not go to church in a galliard, and come home in a coranto? My very walk should be a jig; I would not so much as make water but in a sink-a-pace. What dost thou mean? Is it a world to hide virtues in? I did think, by the excellent constitution of thy leg, it was formed under the star of a galliard.

Why are these talents hidden away? Why do these gifts have a curtain drawn in front of them? Are they likely to gather dust, like Mistress Mall's portrait? Why don't you go to church dancing a galliard and come home dancing a coranto? My own walk would be a jig; I wouldn't even relieve myself except in a five-step dance. What are you thinking of? Is this a world to hide talents in? Judging by the excellent build of your leg, I did think it was made under a dancing star.

Ay, ’tis strong, and it does indifferent well in a dam’d-colour’d stock. Shall we set about some revels?

Yes, it is strong, and it looks reasonably well in a dun-coloured stocking. Shall we get some festivities going?

What shall we do else? Were we not born under Taurus?

What else should we do? Weren't we born under Taurus?

Taurus? That’s sides and heart.

Taurus? That governs the sides and the heart.

No, sir, it is legs and thighs. Let me see thee caper. Ha, higher: ha, ha, excellent!

No, sir, it governs the legs and thighs. Let me see you leap. Ha, higher! Ha, ha, excellent!