Enter Sir Toby, with Sir Andrew, in a great fright.
Sir To. Why, man, he's a very devil;—
Sir And. Oh!
Sir To. I have not seen such a virago. I had a pass with him,—rapier, scabbard, and all,—and he gives me the stuck-in,——
Sir And. Oh!
Sir To. With such a mortal motion, that it is inevitable: they say, he has been fencer to the Sophy.
Sir And. Plague on't, I'll not meddle with him.
Sir To. Ay, but he will not now be pacified: Fabian can scarce hold him yonder.
Sir And. Plague on't; an I thought he had been valiant, and so cunning in fence, I'd have seen him damn'd ere I had challenged him. Let him let the matter slip, and I'll give him my horse, grey Capilet.
Sir To. I'll make the motion: Stand here, make a good show on't.—[Aside.] Marry, I'll ride your horse as well as I ride you.