SIR TOBY.
There’s no remedy, sir, he will fight with you for’s oath sake. Marry, he hath better bethought him of his quarrel, and he finds that now scarce to be worth talking of. Therefore, draw for the supportance of his vow; he protests he will not hurt you.
VIOLA.
[Aside.] Pray God defend me! A little thing would make me tell them how much I lack of a man.
FABIAN.
Give ground if you see him furious.
SIR TOBY.
Come, Sir Andrew, there’s no remedy, the gentleman will for his honour’s sake have one bout with you. He cannot by the duello avoid it; but he has promised me, as he is a gentleman and a soldier, he will not hurt you. Come on: to’t.
SIR ANDREW.
[Draws.] Pray God he keep his oath!
Enter Antonio.
VIOLA.
[Draws.] I do assure you ’tis against my will.
ANTONIO.
Put up your sword. If this young gentleman
Have done offence, I take the fault on me.
If you offend him, I for him defy you.
SIR TOBY.
You, sir? Why, what are you?
ANTONIO.
[Draws.] One, sir, that for his love dares yet do more
Than you have heard him brag to you he will.