SCENE V. OLIVIA's garden.
Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN
SIR TOBY BELCH
Come thy ways, Signior Fabian.
FABIAN
Nay, I'll come: if I lose a scruple of this sport,
let me be boiled to death with melancholy.
SIR TOBY BELCH
Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly
rascally sheep-biter come by some notable shame?
FABIAN
I would exult, man: you know, he brought me out o'
favour with my lady about a bear-baiting here.
SIR TOBY BELCH
To anger him we'll have the bear again; and we will
fool him black and blue: shall we not, Sir Andrew?
SIR ANDREW
An we do not, it is pity of our lives.
Enter SIR TOBY BELCH, SIR ANDREW, and FABIAN
SIR TOBY BELCH
Come thy ways, Signior Fabian.
FABIAN
Nay, I'll come: if I lose a scruple of this sport,
let me be boiled to death with melancholy.
SIR TOBY BELCH
Wouldst thou not be glad to have the niggardly
rascally sheep-biter come by some notable shame?
FABIAN
I would exult, man: you know, he brought me out o'
favour with my lady about a bear-baiting here.
SIR TOBY BELCH
To anger him we'll have the bear again; and we will
fool him black and blue: shall we not, Sir Andrew?
SIR ANDREW
An we do not, it is pity of our lives.
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