[Exeunt.]
Enter Sir Toby and Sir Andrew.
SIR TOBY.
Why, man, he’s a very devil. I have not seen such a firago. I had a pass with him, rapier, scabbard, and all, and he gives me the stuck-in with such a mortal motion that it is inevitable; and on the answer, he pays you as surely as your feet hits the ground they step on. They say he has been fencer to the Sophy.
SIR ANDREW.
Pox on’t, I’ll not meddle with him.
SIR TOBY.
Ay, but he will not now be pacified: Fabian can scarce hold him yonder.
SIR ANDREW.
Plague on’t, an I thought he had been valiant, and so cunning in fence, I’d have seen him damned ere I’d have challenged him. Let him let the matter slip, and I’ll give him my horse, grey Capilet.
SIR TOBY.
I’ll make the motion. Stand here, make a good show on’t. This shall end without the perdition of souls. [Aside.] Marry, I’ll ride your horse as well as I ride you.
Enter Fabian and Viola.
[To Fabian.] I have his horse to take up the quarrel. I have persuaded him the youth’s a devil.
FABIAN.
He is as horribly conceited of him, and pants and looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels.