| ACT I.
3. SCENE III. A Room in OLIVIA'S House.
 (continued)MARIA.
Sir, I have not you by the hand.
 
 SIR ANDREW.
Marry, but you shall have; and here's my hand.
 
 MARIA.
Now, sir, thought is free. I pray you, bring your hand to
 the buttery-bar and let it drink.
 
 SIR ANDREW.
Wherefore, sweetheart? what's your metaphor?
 
 MARIA.
It's dry, sir.
 
 SIR ANDREW.
Why, I think so; I am not such an ass but I can keep my
 hand dry. But what's your jest?
 
 MARIA.
A dry jest, sir.
 
 SIR ANDREW.
Are you full of them?
 
 MARIA.
Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers' ends: marry, now I let
 go your hand I am barren.
 
 [Exit MARIA.]
 
 SIR TOBY.
O knight, thou lack'st a cup of canary: When did I see
 thee so put down?
 
 SIR ANDREW.
Never in your life, I think; unless you see canary put
 me down. Methinks sometimes I have no more wit than a Christian
 or an ordinary man has; but I am great eater of beef, and, I
 believe, that does harm to my wit.
 
 SIR TOBY.
No question.
 
 SIR ANDREW.
An I thought that, I'd forswear it. I'll ride home
 to-morrow, Sir Toby.
 
 SIR TOBY.
Pourquoy, my dear knight?
 
 SIR ANDREW.
What is pourquoy? do or not do? I would I had bestowed
 that time in the tongues that I have in fencing, dancing, and
 bear-baiting. Oh, had I but followed the arts!
 
 SIR TOBY.
Then hadst thou had an excellent head of hair.
 
 SIR ANDREW.
Why, would that have mended my hair?
 
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