VIOLA.
I pray you, sir, what is he?
SIR TOBY. He is knight, dubb'd with unhatch'd rapier and on carpet consideration; but he is a devil in private brawl: souls and bodies hath he divorc'd three; and his incensement at this moment is so implacable that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death and sepulchre. Hob, nob, is his word; give 't or take 't.
VIOLA. I will return again into the house and desire some conduct of the lady. I am no fighter. I have heard of some kind of men that put quarrels purposely on others, to taste their valour; belike this is a man of that quirk.
SIR TOBY. Sir, no; his indignation derives itself out of a very competent injury. Therefore get you on and give him his desire. Back you shall not to the house, unless you undertake that with me which with as much safety you might answer him. Therefore on, or strip your sword stark naked; for meddle you must, that 's certain, or forswear to wear iron about you.
VIOLA. This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you, do me this courteous office, as to know of the knight what my offence to him is; it is something of my negligence, nothing of my purpose.
SIR TOBY.
I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by this gentleman till my
return.
[Exit.]
VIOLA.
Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter?
FABIAN. I know the knight is incens'd against you, even to a mortal arbitrement; but nothing of the circumstance more.
VIOLA.
I beseech you, what manner of man is he?
FABIAN. Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read him by his form, as you are like to find him in the proof of his valour. He is, indeed, sir, the most skilful, bloody, and fatal opposite that you could possibly have found in any part of Illyria. Will you walk towards him? I will make your peace with him, if I can.