SIR ANDREW.
Marry, I saw your niece do more favours to the Count’s servingman than ever she bestowed upon me; I saw’t i’ th’ orchard.
SIR TOBY.
Did she see thee the while, old boy? Tell me that.
SIR ANDREW.
As plain as I see you now.
FABIAN.
This was a great argument of love in her toward you.
SIR ANDREW.
’Slight! will you make an ass o’ me?
FABIAN.
I will prove it legitimate, sir, upon the oaths of judgment and reason.
SIR TOBY.
And they have been grand-jurymen since before Noah was a sailor.
FABIAN.
She did show favour to the youth in your sight only to exasperate you, to awake your dormouse valour, to put fire in your heart and brimstone in your liver. You should then have accosted her, and with some excellent jests, fire-new from the mint, you should have banged the youth into dumbness. This was looked for at your hand, and this was balked: the double gilt of this opportunity you let time wash off, and you are now sailed into the north of my lady’s opinion; where you will hang like an icicle on Dutchman’s beard, unless you do redeem it by some laudable attempt, either of valour or policy.
SIR ANDREW.
And’t be any way, it must be with valour, for policy I hate; I had as lief be a Brownist as a politician.
SIR TOBY.
Why, then, build me thy fortunes upon the basis of valour. Challenge me the Count’s youth to fight with him. Hurt him in eleven places; my niece shall take note of it, and assure thyself there is no love-broker in the world can more prevail in man’s commendation with woman than report of valour.