Vio. My lord, I do protest,—
Oli. O, do not swear;
Hold little faith, though thou hast too much fear.
[Olivia sends away the Friar.
Enter Sir Andrew, crying, with his Head broke.
Sir And. O, O,—For the love of heaven, a surgeon; send one presently to Sir Toby.
Oli. What's the matter?
Sir And. He has broke my head across, and has given Sir Toby a bloody coxcomb too: for the love of heaven, your help: I had rather than forty pound I were at home.
Oli. Who has done this, Sir Andrew?
Sir And. The count's gentleman, one Cesario: We took him for a coward, but he's the very devil incardinate.
Duke. My gentleman, Cesario?