SIR TOBY.
I mean, to go, sir, to enter.
VIOLA.
I will answer you with gait and entrance: but we are prevented.
Enter Olivia and Maria.
Most excellent accomplished lady, the heavens rain odours on you!
SIR ANDREW.
That youth’s a rare courtier. ‘Rain odours,’ well.
VIOLA.
My matter hath no voice, lady, but to your own most pregnant and vouchsafed ear.
SIR ANDREW.
‘Odours,’ ‘pregnant,’ and ‘vouchsafed.’—I’ll get ’em all three ready.
OLIVIA.
Let the garden door be shut, and leave me to my hearing.
[Exeunt Sir Toby, Sir Andrew and Maria.]
Give me your hand, sir.