If this be so, as yet the glass seems true, I shall have share in this most happy wreck.
Boy, thou hast said to me a thousand times thou never shouldst love woman like to me.
And all those sayings will I overswear.
Give me thy hand. Your master quits you; and for your service done him, so much against the mettle of your sex, here is my hand: you shall from this time be Your master's mistress.
By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier o' nights. That quaffing and drinking will undo you: I heard my lady talk of it yesterday; and of a foolish knight that you brought here to be her wooer.
Sir Toby Belch:
Who, Sir Andrew Aguecheek?
Sir Toby Belch:
He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria.
What's that to the purpose?
Were not you even now with the Countess Olivia?
Even now, sir; on a moderate pace I have since arrived but hither.
She returns this ring to you, sir: you might have saved me my pains, to have taken it away yourself. She adds, moreover, that you should put your lord into a desperate assurance she will none of him. Receive it so.
She took the ring of me? I'll none of it.
Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her; and her will is, it should be so returned: if it be worth stooping for, there it lies in your eye; if not, be it his that finds it.
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