FABIAN.
More matter for a May morning.
SIR ANDREW.
Here’s the challenge, read it. I warrant there’s vinegar and pepper in’t.
FABIAN.
Is’t so saucy?
SIR ANDREW.
Ay, is’t, I warrant him. Do but read.
SIR TOBY.
Give me. [Reads.] Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art but a scurvy fellow.
FABIAN.
Good, and valiant.
SIR TOBY.
Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind, why I do call thee so, for I will show thee no reason for’t.
FABIAN.
A good note, that keeps you from the blow of the law.
SIR TOBY.
Thou comest to the Lady Olivia, and in my sight she uses thee kindly: but thou liest in thy throat; that is not the matter I challenge thee for.
FABIAN.
Very brief, and to exceeding good sense—less.